What Miss Plumcake is…

Reading: No One Writes to the Colonel – Gabriel García Márquez My person-friend and I decided to read this novella at the same time. Unfortunately, I had some lines crossed in my head so was confusing him with Garcia Lorca and was highly displeased when this wasn’t Neruda-esque. This isn’t a cheery little novella, but it’s beautifully written and translated and will stay with you for quite a while.

Watching: Y Tu Mamá También I’m pretty sure I was at the North American premier of this back in 2001 and hadn’t seen it since, but I picked it up because I was feeling a bit down about being The Older Woman. Gosh this is a great flick. Sexy, poignant, heartbreaking and exquisitely shot. It reminds me a bit of the movie I wanted Bertolucci’s The Dreamers to be.

Hearing: Sketches of Spain – Miles Davis Even if I wasn’t spending most of my time trying to will myself to be from somewhere more exotic than Swansea, this is my all-time favorite summer album. Chill, sophisticated, sort of lazily hot…if you’ve never heard it you’ve got to check it out.

Smelling: Rossy de Palma Eau de Protection – Etat Libre d`Orange. Named after the Spanish star, this is a big black-red rose with a huge dose of high-end patchouli. A nightmare on me, but worth trying if you like that sort of thing.

Loving: Oak Baroque Heels – Alexander McQueen It is a good damn thing I have never been able to cantilever my Flintstone feet into a single McQueen shoe because these leafy beauties would set me back a lot of lettuce.

Hating: Lanvin’s $500 Chucks Seriously? Seriously you’re going to make a pair of fabric Converse knock offs and sell them for $500? I’m trying not to even DWELL on the fact that it’s possible my cuddly little Alber Elbaz signed off on this. I’d expect this from Marc Jacobs, but Lanvin? For shame!

Wanting: Real Techniques by Sam Chapman Brush Set Okay, these things are harder to get than cigarettes in jail and I want ‘em. If you have a way to get me that eyeliner brush you just let me know and I’ll reward you bountifully.

Buying: Avenue’s Belted Mini-Ottoman Dress I haven’t actually made up my mind on this one. It looks great in the photo –though the necklace obscures the neckline– but the fabric is kind of…weird. I haven’t decided if it’s bad weird or just different weird. Time will tell.

That being said, we ought to differentiate between Fashion and the Fashion Industry.

The mainstream fashion industry and media has its head so far up its own emaciated backside that it can use its own lungs as convenient and ergonomically sound in-flight neck pillows.  That’s not going to change any time soon, so take whatever good you can find from it as a pleasant surprise and leave the rest. My current scientifically bangin’ measurements are 53-36^1/2-54 and I cannot buy ready-to-wear from any major designer.  That is screwed up.  I have –albeit on a larger scale– pretty the exact same proportions as Marilyn Monroe, Sophia Loren and the Venus De frickin’  Milo.  If you can’t design clothes that look great on my figure *coughMiucciaPradacough* the problem? Is not with me.

But Fashion? Fashion is by no means the exclusive provenance of 15 year-old Eastern Bloc automatons with bones but no faces. Sure that may be what we see on the runways right now –although admittedly with the revival of the early 90′s looks, we’re getting a bit more diversity of look on the catwalk– but after poring through thousands of editorial fashion images this weekend, particularly from the How to be a F**king Lady tumblr stream which is beyond fabulous I’ve decided one thing:

When you create something unusual, maybe even shocking, put it on your body and  sell it so hard that it becomes fabulous by sheer force of will, THAT is Capital F Fashion. It doesn’t belong to the thin or tall or blonde or rich or whatever actress has a new movie coming out. It belongs to anyone with courage and courage doesn’t give a damn about measurements.

Which isn’t to say there’s anything wrong with wanting to be pretty, but good Fashion –like all good art– is challenging and challenging ain’t always pretty.

So take this as a call to arms.

If we want to do Fashion, we can do Fashion. In fact, as big girls, we might actually even have a natural advantage because we command more attention with our physical presence. After all, there’s a reason Cadillacs are in parades but those little SmartCars aren’t. BE the Cadillac, girls and go commit some Fashion.

British Vogue – By far the best, sharpest journalism of its kind. It’s a spendy subscription, but worth every penny. Less fawning than American Vogue and less kiddie-porn than Paris Vogue, the UK version of the Conde Nast giant is my favorite fashion publication.

Yves Saint Laurent Tribute Sandals – The word iconic is overused, yet it’s justified with the YSL “Tribute” series. With new iterations released every season, still maintaining that sky-high heel and architectural platform, they’re destined to become the YSL signature wink for those in the know as much as the legendary Le Smoking.

Menswear Gold Watch – We’ve been seeing women wearing men’s over-sized watches for a few seasons now –wear it slightly loose, like a bangle– but mostly with round faces. I’m really feeling the louche good taste/bad taste 70′s feeling of a big chunky square face now. Think borrowing your grandfather’s (or father’s) Rolex, but not getting the links taken out.

Madame Grès: Sphinx of Fashion by Patrica Mears- Fashion isn’t stupid. It’s shallow, but it’s not stupid.  The history of why we wear what we wear is fascinating and real lovers of fashion know their history.  Sure any yahoo can recognize a Chanel jacket or might be able to tell you that Valentino is known for bows and its signature shade of red, but if you’re really interested in fashion, you’d do well to dig deeper. Madame Grès, described as the “couturier that time forgot”  by Linda Grant, is a fascinating study and although few know her name, anyone who has noticed those Grecian goddess dresses that’ve been ubiquitous on the red carpet for half a decade might be interested to know it was the reclusive Grès who brought that look to the forefront of modern fashion in the 1930′s.

Be sure to check back at the main ‘Tis the Season page to look back on profiles you’ve missed and look forward to ones that are soon to come!

Well you were WRONG.

I’ve just been really busy with stuff and I get a little absentminded. I can juuust about show up where I’m supposed to be, but I have no idea who or what is in store for me once I get there. Just another reason why you should always wear cute underwear.

Oh, SPEAKING of underwear, I bought a whole flock of those Avenue Cotton Girl Short Panties last month because a girl can never have too many britches. Yeah. They suck. I mean, I understand a little migration here and there. It’s one of those cruelties of life, like hot married guys. BUT these things aren’t merely migratory, they’re INVASIVE and the less said about them the better. Save yourself the uh, heartache, and skip these.

Right, where were we? Shoes!

So I think I missed three days of Shoe Month, and what better way to end than with Lanvin?

I love Lanvin. Always have and I love Alber Elbaz AT Lanvin (although I’d really like to see what he could do at Chanel, if those Karl retirement rumors are true, which I don’t think they are) and I really love whoever is doing the accessories and shoes, because these “Sunbeam” snakeskin pumps on sale at Net a Porter?

Made. Me. Cry.

Honestly, it’s got pretty much everything I love in a couture shoe: neutral snakeskin, almond toe, an ankle strap, an interesting heel AND a little dash of paprika in the form of a hint of bad taste (don’t worry, the gold chain is removable). CRUELLY they’re not in my size, but that’s probably a good thing considering even on sale they’re well over a thousand dollars.

Also making me cry:

These are an absolute bargain at 60% off, and I adore the graceful shape, the 3″ wearability and (bites knuckle) the green heel. Again not in my size, but maybe in yours? I’ll hate you forever, but it’ll be worth it.

Finally we’ve got a pair that is about as close as you’ll get to a comfort shoe in Lanvin. A fuchsia, heeled ballet slipper.

It’s got the same styling you’d see in a traditional elasticated ballet flat, but has a nice solid little midheel. Also? Under $200, and how often to see Lanvin for under $200?

These things would be So. Dang. Useful.

I’m not buying them because I’ve got probably five or six pairs of shoes this exact color, but although they don’t look earth shattering in the first picture, when you see it on the leg it really comes together.

It’s actually a fairly slow week for sales thanks to the swing back from Memorial Day, so we’re doing something a little different.   One of the things I hate hate HATE is when people I know copy my personal style –which is pretty specific– just a little too closely. It’s awkward for everyone involved. I’ll never forget that day years ago when I walked into church to find some sweet but terribly misguided Young Thing wearing what can only be described as a Plumcake costume.

In the parlance of my people, “I liketa died.”

That being said, I thought it might be fun –and I invite you all to play along in the comments– to actually CREATE a Plumcake costume using the sales this week.  Create your own costume in the comments field, just don’t worry if it takes a few minutes to post. It might get caught in the pending filter.

First up are these Original Ray Ban Wayfarers in dark tortoise shell, on sale at Lord and Taylor using code FRIENDS to take 25% off your entire purchase. I never leave my house without my torties, which are just as cool as the traditional black ones but a bit more sophisticated.

These are timeless timeless timeless and perfect for either sex, so if your father is still wearing those tragiculous Blu-Blockers, why not buy him a pair of Wayfarers?  He’ll look like  an Italian movie star (white loafers not included.)

And if I’m never without my Wayfarers I’m never ever without my Hermes scarf. In fact, you could probably execute a fairly reputable Plumcake costume with just the scarf and the sunnies, plus a pair of vintage clip ons.

Pictured here is my absolute favorite foulard from my not-inconsiderable collection. It’s called Les Rivieres de Babel and although I have it in the aqua, there is precisely ONE of these available for purchase  from Potero (on sale too, it is to weep), so get it quick. It’s the only scarf I’ve ever paid a premium for and the photos simply do NOT do it justice. So pretty. So SO pretty.  When a woman d’une certain age showed up fresh off the plane from Paris with it wrapped around her neck, I fell in love and proceeded to hairlip hell until I located one and purchased it with much whimpering of bank account and a month of meal planning that involved the phrase “beans and toast” more often that I typically find ideal.  And you know what? Worth. Every. Penny.

And of course one good turn of Hermes deserves another: the Hermes Bolide in brown box calf.  Again, there’s only one of them, but it’s at 63% off retail and in great condition. Of course as with all Hermes bags, it is entitled to the legendary spa, where loved bags are buffed, primped and polished back to new. Now in the spirit of full disclosure: I don’t own a Bolide, I have a Birkin which I received as a break up gift (sorta) and have used exactly once, but for all the folderol over the Birkin being il handbag di tutti handbags, I’d kinda rather have the Bolide.

Moving from the screamingly expensive to the cheap and cheerful, I mentioned earlier you could compose a pretty decent Plumcake costume with just the scarf, sunglasses and a pair of vintage clip on earrings.

I couldn’t tell you how many pairs of vintage earbobs I own. Hundreds probably. I might even know where a few of them are (I always carry some sparklies in my purse in case I need to put them on in a flash, and usually a few pair at the office, in the car…wherever)

It is a shameful truth that, like snails leave slime and skunks leave stink, I leave a trail of  earrings wherever I roam.  I’ve tried to fix it, but to no avail. I almost always find them again eventually, but in case I don’t, I really hate to invest too much.

I’m a sucker for figural earrings, or something with a little hint of whimsy, like these floral ear clips on clearance from La Vintage, which will set you back a measly 17 smackaroos.

These little darlings measure about 3/4″ and are just about exactly what I go for in an earring. Casual but still a little sparkly, charming but not cutesy and pretty enough to draw light but not so spectacular as to draw attention away from my face.

If you’re not in the habit of wearing earrings, give it a shot.  I have pierced ears but only wear clip-ons, so I can pull them off or put them on at a moment’s notice.  Also, you should always ALWAYS wear earrings when trying on clothing  (nothing dangly, please). You’ll be amazed on how much more put together you’ll look, just with a simple pair of bobs.

More fabulousness after the jump, clicky click!

Well let’s move from my ears to my neck.

We all know Miss Plumcake loves some perfume and Monday in the comments, faithful reader Lisa asked for some summer fragrance recommendations (she assures me her Rossy de Palma perfume from Etat Libre de Orange isn’t strong enough to stun a wild ox, but I’m not so sure, that’s some potent juice).

The problem is, most of the perfume I wear isn’t readily available online, or at least not conveniently.

An exception is my beloved Diptyque L’Ombre dans l’Eau, a lovely blackcurrent leaf bomb with a hint of early morning rose. It’s light and green enough for summer, but it’s not just some one-note cologne.  I keep a bottle of it in my glovebox (note: this is bad for your perfume, don’t do this at home) to spritz when I need a refresher.

It’s not overly complex, but you know, you don’t need a ballgown and furs every day, sometimes a linen dress will do.

SPEAKING of linen dresses, I love them. I’ll never know why people are so terrified of linen.

It doesn’t wrinkle nearly as badly as most people seem to think, and when it does crumple, it looks elegant, not messy. I’ve been positively living in this dress from J Jones New York for the past few weeks. If you wanted to come up with a standard Plumcake Dress, you couldn’t get much more perfect than this (okay, the neck would be a little deeper and there would be sleeves, but I wear a little white cardi and call it a day).

Most of my linen is lined, but this isn’t so I always wear a slip. Honestly I wear a slip most of the time anyway. It keeps me cooler in the summer and warm in the winter, plus I like knowing when The Archbishop of my Pants finally whisks me away to Canterbury at a moment’s notice, at least I’ll be dressed for entertaining.

I’m particularly liking this coral chemise from Torrid, which is a steal at $28. I think I’m going to go back and order a few more in black.

And while we’re on the subject of underthings, let me come clean once and for all: I wear granny panties.

Love ‘em.

You can keep your thongs and your creatively cut tangas, you will pry the granny pants off my cold dead backside, which will be challenging because I fully expect several beefy men to have thrown themselves on my dead but still lovely corpse in grief.

Besides, I think a nice nude or black full coverage brief in either a solid or lace is WAY sexier than those embarrassing striped and polkadotted novelty britches that look like granimals for grownups.  PLUS I spend most of my waking life (okay SOME of my waking life) suffering for the sake of beauty and I draw the line at walking around with something that uncomfortable lodged in my intimate person without at least getting dinner first.

These are by far my favorite undies on the planet.  The seamless brief from Lane Bryant, normally $15 each  they’re 3 for $29 right now.  I drove from Austin to the Grand Canyon in these (well, two pair, it took two days) and nary a chafe or wedge in sight. I always keep a spare pair in my car because, like the good scout I am, I’m always prepared.

Speaking of being prepared, here’s something you might not know about your pal Plumcake: I collect old umbrellas.

Umbrellas, like cars, just aren’t as cool now as they were way back when.

I’d picked up a few here and there for years, but it wasn’t until I was first in London tooling around the City that I realized how chic an umbrella could be. All these gorgeous silver foxes with their stiff upper lips and tightly wrapped umbrellas. It made the knees quiver.

Unfortunately, I’ve never had the expendable dosh to walk into James Smith and have a silver banded whangee cane fit-up made especially for me, or the legendary Brigg No. 92 with a flask in the handle that will set a girl back close to a grand, but I do require my bumbershoots to have at least a certain element of panache. A cheap and cheerful alternative is this charming lady’s umbrella. I’ll never understand why people don’t put a little more thought into their umbrellas. I mean, either they’re boring old Totes or embarrassingly cutesy. But when do you need a dash of charm more than when you’re walking in the rain? I particularly like a lighter colored parpluie for spring and summer showers. It can do double duty as a parasol for a picnic or when your beloved is rowing you across a limpid pool while you read Byron. People still do that, right?

FINALLY you can’t have a Plumcake costume without a truly fabulous pair of shoes, preferably with an almond toe, small platform, elegant heel, timelessly styled  and –if you want to tease me because I don’t own a single item of pink clothing and only two sets of black shoes but about 10 pairs of pink shoes– they ought to be pink.

I am crazy for these “Taro” heels from Brian Atwoods and while I didn’t pay the retail of $725 for them, I paid a heck of a lot more than what you’d pay for them now that they’re on major sale at Bluefly. NOT THAT I’M BITTER, BLUEFLY. But they matched my criteria: they had to be stylish in the 40′s, 70′s and today. These are “sixty year shoes” and

So that’s it, ten easy steps to the perfect Plumcake costume. I want to know what I would need to dress in YOUR costume, so be sure to tell me in the comments!

Well, life imitates art.

First, you must go and read Style Spy’s revelation.  She could be a plus sized model!

“But wait!” you say “Style Spy is a teensy tiny size 4!” and I say “I know. read on, my friends.”

Mme Style Spy posted a picture of one of Ford Models’ newest members of their plus division, Alyona Osmanova:

and remarked how they share almost the exact same measurements, except Aloyna is much, much taller.

Now, just for comparison, Ms Osmanova’s measurements are reported as 36″ 28″ 40″ and she stands at just a hair under six feet tall.

Cindy Crawford, one of the few TRUE supermodels, is only 5’9″ but her model card from 1992 had her measurements as 34″ 22″ 35″,  Naomi Campbell, same height, reported her measurements as 34″ 28″ 40″ on the Tyra show in 2005.

Once again:

Supermodel Naomi Campbell: 34″ 28″ 40″ at 5’9″

Plus size model Alyona Osmanova: 36″ 28″ 40″ at 5’11″

Huh?

Say what you will about the plus divisions of most modeling agencies (get a few sazeracs in me and I will) but at least back in my day –and we’re talking the late 90′s here– the plus sized models were actually plus sized: 12, 14, 16.

But I don’t think it’s all doom and gloom.

At this point, these size categories have been so bended and skewed as to be meaningless, and I think for the fashion world, that’s a good thing.

When reviewing the Chanel Resort collection, Andre Leon Talley (whose memoir ALT you MUST read) wrote:

“Lagerfeld had cast the show with a slightly more curvaceous model named Crystal Renn, not seen on any Chanel catwalk before. This in itself was groundbreaking for the house, but there was also the return of personality models encouraged to be themselves instead of robotic look-alikes.”

What I’m excited about isn’t known fatty hater Karl Lagerfeld casting “slightly more curvaceous” Crystal Renn (and THANK YOU, Mr Talley for that bit of intellectual honesty) it’s that we’re seeing a return to personality models.

We’ve kind of been doing 15 year old Eastern European automatons for almost a decade now, and they do look like robots, and while I understand the appeal having faceless identical clothes hangers must hold for a designer who wants all attention to go to his concept, not her beauty, I think we’ve gone as far as we can go in that direction and I’m extremely heartened to see pretty models once again, some of whom might even have what are recognizably womanly shapes.

I think the general acceptance of size 6 models –and dare I hope for an eight or *gasp* ten OTHER than Crystal Renn– is a much more tenable step in the right direction in the modeling industry than plopping down a handful of true plus size models as gimmick casting.

So I’ll end this little fashion rant the same way I end all my fashion rants, with a hope that fashion will start to incorporate actual meaningful diversity, not just high-heeled tokenism, into its editorials and advertisements.

There is no excess like wretched excess.

Most women don’t have many occasions where it’s socially acceptable to have a full on sartorial extravaganza. It’s pretty much costume balls and prom. Note how I DIDN’T say wedding? Although by all means keep wearing bad wedding dresses, it’s the only thing –except the open bar– that makes most weddings enjoyable. You just go ahead and marry your fourth husband while wearing a Cinderella gown. The gays and I will be in the back pew making knowing comments about the kind of girls –fairytale heroines included– who wear clear heels.

But the fact most of our lives –and most of our budgets– can’t support high octane fashion fantasies, shouldn’t stop us from occasionally indulging in a daydream or two.

Today Miss Plumcake wants to know:

If you had to do it all over again what would you wear to prom? Money, time, history and physics are of no matter. I just want to know your fantasy gown.

At first I thought I might want something by Poiret, but then decided my shape didn’t suit his ideas. Then I thought about putting Queen Elizabeth I’s dressmakers to the test. I AM awfully fond of that fabric with all the swampthings on it, but I just know I’d put it on and feel like an aquarium made sweet upholstered love to an overstuffed ottoman.

So then I went to the great couturiers. Cristobal Balenciaga: gorgeous and flawless but not exuberant enough. Coco Chanel: Nazi sympathizer. Christian Dior: now we’re getting somewhere.

I’ve always loved –and been flattered by– The New Look which took the fashion world by wasp-waisted, full-skirted storm in 1947.

It’s gotta be John Galliano.

I’d happily wear any of these from our Funky Little Fashion Troll for Dior’s 60th anniversary of the New Look. Heck, I’d wear pretty much any gown he’s done for Dior. Mostly I just want to wear a lyre on my head.

Of course, when I first asked myself the question, one dress did pop out and, surprisingly, it wasn’t from the mini maestro. It was the cream feather dress from Alexander McQueen’s Fall 2008 ready to wear.

Is it my favorite McQueen ever? No. It’s not even my favorite from that show, which literally made me weep it was so beautiful. But it’s up there and it’s haunted me for years, so in my made up life –the one where Stephen Fry is straight and MADLY in love with me and Hugh Laurie is just sick with jealousy– this is the dress I would wear to prom.

But I still want that damn lyre.

So I’ve got to say I haven’t been moved thusfar in Paris, and I’m especially disappointed in the Galliano show. We love John Galliano. He is our Funky Little Fashion Troll. He loves women, his models almost always have breasts and hips and other lady parts generally shunned by the fashion industry.  I love him at Dior and I love the stuff he does for his own house.  That being said:

HUH?

I just didn’t get it.

I mean, there are some amazing individual pieces like this coat.

I love this coat.

I want to LIVE in this coat.

I want to marry this coat and cook its dinner and emotionally blackmail it around the holidays.

But this coat?

This coat is made of Bumble scrotum.

I mean really. Moving on.

On the bright side, the unibrow is back, which means I guess I don’t need to do that eyebrow tutorial you all have been asking me for.  So, uh, that’s great I guess.

(actually I really love this look, insane fork crown notwithstanding)

but the whole thing sort of struck me as…off. Plus it reminded me a lot of the Gaultier couture show –which I LOVED from crazy beginning to crazy end– and that’s fine and all but c’mon. Is it possible they were both inspired by the Aztec exhibit in London?

To be fair, gimmicks aside, JPG did a fairly Dior-esque show.

Vis:

This is a great bar suit and if I don’t have that bag  and those shoes I will just DIE.

DIE!!!

But tell me if you didn’t know it was Gaultier that you wouldn’t say it’s Dior.

But Gaultier just seemed better edited and although he had roughly the same tribal theme going on he did it with so much more precision.

Now how fabulous would it have been if someone had worn THIS on the red carpet last Sunday?

First there was the downer we discussed yesterday, which was all about how Prada refused to design for non-model extras as the costume designer of the Met’s production of Attila. Bah and humbug and, as you may recall, suck it.

Then there was the bit about Mark Fast scoring a line with Topshop.  Fast, if you’ll recall, was the young buck who used to make his clothes only in one size but who sent down three plus-sized models the runway for Spring 2010, causing two of his stylists to quit.

I very much Do Not Love his clothes, but I love Mr Fast for using plus size models as models, not as tokens in his ultra-shredded sexpot show.

Then there was a note –and this is the most hopeful of all– about how models like Lara Stone (a size 4 sometimes 6) and Catherine McNeil –who has been getting a lot of flack for gaining weight and now looks to be a size 4– are getting tons and tons of work as the trend swings away from stick-thin and back to merely very slim.

According to style.com:

“If McNeil, Stone, and Gemma Ward—another reemerging catwalker dealing with negative body-image hype—were the new prototypes for healthier-looking models, we’d be much relieved. For now, there’s always Crystal Renn.”

This is exciting. This is REALLY exciting. Because one size 12 model in a lineup of thirty double-naughts is a gimmick, this is CHANGE. If we can get back to where a size 6 is model-normal, then maybe a size 12 model won’t seem so out of the ordinary. Maybe young girls won’t be so likely to develop eating disorders to starve themselves into a shape they’ll never EVER naturally be.  We’ve been in Waif World for about 15 years now –remember when Kate Moss was the thinnest model on the runway?– and there’s a change in the air. Whee!

I mean, this kid has been on my radar since we were both in our early 20′s (he’s a year younger than I am) and I never really thought much about his hotness until recently. When you think of hot guy designers usually you think of Tom Ford or maybe Marc Jacobs –because seriously, is there an editorial he hasn’t stripped for?— but Zac Posen is relatively unassuming which is why I was all breathless when I did some googling and discovered, wow, he is  REALLY good looking.

I think I’ve got a soft spot for the 29 year-old designer because he reminds me a bit of Andre, had Andre been hit with the Marlon Brando stick instead of the Overly Sensitive French Chef Who STILL Doesn’t Understand the Concept of International Time Zones stick (he’s back in Lyon at the moment and making me insane with his ill-timed calls.. “Hi Baby! Do you meeses me? I meese you. Do you meeses me now? I am still meesing you”).

And the things I find attractive about Zac are also what make me forgive Andre for all his Gallic goofiness. Great nose, beautiful lips, lovely curls and those sort of eyes that usually end morning-after trips to church or Planned Parenthood.

I think I like him best with a little stubble, he’s so clean cut here in his Clark Kent get up.

I get the blue suit because it looks great with the yellow dress, but what’s the deal, Superman?

Or maybe he really IS a superhero and he’s just going UNDERCOVER as a brilliant young designer so he can infiltrate their world. But no, that’s crazy. It’s not like the fashion world is being preyed upon by some evil genius with a weird costume and some sort of crazy German accen…

oh. Never mind.