I'm sorry if it seems like I have a hair fixation lately, but you know what, reader? I do. I am all about hair. And if you're expecting my usual venom, then you are out of luck today, because I have nothing but good things to say about Maria Cristina's splendid barnet, as photographed by the irritatingly talented Tommy Ton of Jak and Jil (Incidentally, fuck you, Tommy. I'm sorry, but there it is. You are so very good at making me shirk in the workplace, and I resent you for it. You had better not be handsome as well, or so help me God.) Evidently someone at Oscar De La Renta feels the same, and saw fit to style their models with a sort of craze sexy version of Jack Nance's hair in Eraserhead, and I am all kinds of wild about it. If anyone knows how to recreate this hairstyle with relative ease, I will...well, you know the rest. I think we all know the format of this blog by now, no? I'm hoping that Vogue will do a characteristically patronising feature on it within the next two months, which would be perfect for me, because my skills in that area could best be described as "intermediate" and, dare I say it, "lazy".
As much as I hate to jump on the blog bandwagon (blogwagon?), I am so close to buying this:
It's unreal. Does anyone else find it ironic that they might have spent a few of their earlier teenage years trying to distance themselves from their "goffick" past, only to find themselves hitting sixteen and going full circle, wishing they'd kept all their original spooky garb (Man, I am deep today)? Unfortunately I'm not one of those bloggers who gets sent this kind of shit in the post, despite having literally FIVES of readers, so I have to be content with paying exorbitant tax on it, but that's the way things go. If it helps my cause, I can reveal to you exclusively that I heard once that wearing clothes by Obesity and Speed is, ironically, an effective cure for obesity. No? Worth a fucking shot, at least.
(I'd let him perform an act on on me, the possible outcome of which might be that nine months later, something would "Get Born", AMIRITE?
...oh, come on, gimmie a break. I had nothing to work with there. It's not like I could have chosen a still where his cue-card said "Blow Me".)