Sharon was notably, and vexingly, absent from Cannes this year despite almost always being on hand for the amfAR festivities. Every year, I look forward to the whirl of oddity that is Sharon’s wardrobe, and I felt bereft without it.
So imagine my relief when she bottled up all that concentrated crazy, shook it up as hard as she could for the past fortnight or so, and then uncorked it all over herself last night.
She’s got this dignified head, glorious lipstick… and then it’s like she lit a match and burned a path across her erogenous zones. Sharon, Sharon, Sharon. You would have looked so much better if you’d ignored your basic naked instinct, but I’ll give you this: You’re never a dull cocktail.