From the cell phone files of Shania Twain
SHANIA: Hey. I’m up for CMA Entertainer of the Year this time. I need to bring it.
STYLIST: You need to impress them much?
SHANIA: I want to feel like a woman. But also maybe like a sunburn.
STYLIST: HOT LIKE FIRE, then.
SHANIA: Go with me on this. I’m picturing a tube top. Bright pink.
STYLIST: Mmmmm.
SHANIA: Then we throw in hotpants.
STYLIST: Wait, WITH a tube top? Isn’t that–
SHANIA: And they’re the same pink. And then I’m thinking a duster.
STYLIST: You mean like a long trench? What if we did it in leather–
SHANIA: No, it’s gotta be pink. A matching pink.
STYLIST: Are we sure that’s not–
SHANIA: And HUGE lapels. Oh and don’t forget the hat!
STYLIST: You can’t throw on a random brown cowboy hat with–
SHANIA: In pink. It HAS TO match. And gloves. I want to look like I was lying on my yacht with nothing but Hawaiian Tropic oil on, for four hours. Match, match, match.
STYLIST: Okay, so shoes, then.
SHANIA: Boots.
STYLIST: Same pink.
SHANIA: Ew, no, are you nuts?
STYLIST: I just….
SHANIA: That’s taking it too far. I’m disappointed in you. They’ve gotta be baby pink.
STYLIST: … Can I at least put a chandelier around your neck?
SHANIA: That’s the most sensible thing you’ve said all day.
STYLIST: You’re still the one, Shania.