No, this is not a regional theater Romeo and Juliet costume... it's World Fashion Week.
You can thank me later. For now, I have devised a devilishly good plan to put an end, once and for all, to World Fashion Week. Now, when I refer to World Fashion Week, I mean places in this world besides Paris, Milan, London and New York that host "Fashion Weeks"...and I use the term loosely here. Having looked at image after image (click on links for a good giggle) from places such as Madrid, Rome, Kiev, Krygyzstan (no, I am not kidding), Abu Dabi, Pakistan, Lakme, San Paolo, Aspen (really?), Dubai, Couture Tranny, Los Angeles (they are actually claiming Los Angeles Fashion Month...tee hee), I have decided that all this needs to stop.
THE PLAN: My idea was inspired by the article in this week's The New York Observer about the The 9/11 Gay Terrorist named Ahmad Hikmat Shakir. Gay, yes, hot, no. "He was tall as a mushroom, fat and gay," one source familiar with the case told The Observer, "and the idea was to exploit him as an agent against Al Qaeda." The article also points out that Mohamed Atta, the 9/11 hijacker from Egypt, was also rumored to be gay. OK, so, reading about these queens, I consider the whole Gays in the Military, Don't Ask Don't Tell policy drama and think, "What if we just take all the gays in the military and assign them to the critical task of rounding up all the World Fashion Week "designers"...and I use the term loosely here...and bring them to Guantanamo Bay, Cuba. Once there, the "designers" can host massive styling fests with the other terrorists, that, who knows, might also be gay." Don't you love it? Move over The Hurt Locker, these outfits are potentially as dangerous as IEDs...at least on the eyes.
The brilliance of my plan should bring applause all around, and cheers by actual designers who are already feeling the pinch from the glut of celebrity designers. All these ancillary activities have to be eating into the core business of fashion. And if I am wrong, well, you can just thank me for getting rid of the fashion riff-raff. Check out these images from around the globe and tell me if I am not onto something here. I mean...what?!?
When the French refer to petites mains (tiny hands), they do not have this nonsense in mind.
When you say something costs an arm and a leg, it is not meant literally.
When the fatties from The Biggest Loser shed their pounds, the old wardrobes should not be recycled on a runway far away as "What's New for Fall 10 in Outer Mongolia".
Not that there's anything wrong with it, but Couture (Tranny) Fashion Week must go.
When a tarantula becomes the inspiration for a hat...all bad fashion must end.
This needs to be locked up alright...in Guantanamo Bay.
Can we all agree here that unless you are a Vegas show girl, this kind of stuff must go.
My plan to get all this off the radar and onto Guantanamo Bay is brilliant...correct?
Check out: I MEAN...WHAT?!?