Chuck Taylors with a concho belt? This woman is totally fucking crushing it. Admit it. You wish you had the fashion balls of this broad. She is rolling up that sidewalk runway like the Biker from the Apocalypse. Vegetation is spontaneously combusting, varmints are scattering – and with good reason.
That white do-rag/painters cap puts the world on notice that blondie is having a bad hair day and doesn’t give a fuck. You want some of this? No, you don’t.
That black canvas shoulder bag is a nice touch too. It says, “I brought a change of clothes just in case things get messy.” She’s probably got a loaded .45 in there … and maybe some beef jerky and a can of spray paint. You just don’t know, but it’s roomy enough to launch some serious shenanigans. Switchblade? Clown suit? A box of Girl Scout Thin Mints? A director’s cut DVD of Bridget Jones’s Diary?
Whatever it is, she is keeping it tucked in tight. Maybe she’s muling some skunkweed into the gun show. Lord knows those people could use it. They’re pretty tightly wound. I mean, really … they always get their panties in a wad when people start pawing the assault weapons. They should really just relax, have a few bong hits, and let the snot nosed toddlers play cowboys and Indians with the Glocks and Lugers. It’s the American way. How else are kids going to learn gun safety? Grand Theft Auto?
LuvDoc Fashion Index: 9.5 (in order to save fashion, we must sometimes destroy it)
This article appears in June 29 • 2012.
