Miley is going through a really weird phase. It’s called “Pants.”
Well, more specifically, it’s wacky pants — but it’s a novelty enough that she is wearing becrotched leg coverings at all. Then again, her newness to such a concept may account for her inability to hem them, among other things; I could deal with the cutesy pattern a lot more easily if they were slim-fitting and allowed for a peek of a killer shoe, but as-is, they’re just this really strange mix of matronly and fourth-grade doodles. I have no idea why she has draped her neck in tulle, either, but ours is not to reason why. Ours is but to fug or die.
For the Tom Ford show earlier in the weekend, Miley went in a more familiar direction:
Because the universe must find a way to restore its balance. I’d prefer it if the universe poured those energies into smacking Tom Ford upside the head until his sense returned, but the universe prefers not to consult me.