Dearests Dolly and Ms. Streisand,
The skies have turned a jaundiced yellow, the air, sickly and stale, is too toxic to breathe. All around me people are dying slowly from the radiation poisoning. Our days are numbered…but at least I look fierce. Thanks to these inhabitable conditions, I’ve finally gotten down to a perfect size 2, and my spine has curved into a permanent hunch. I now have an entire wardrobe to suit this Mad Max world we’ve suddenly entered. Since money is practically obsolete, or so I like to think, I just murdered the salesgays at Rodarte and stole the entire Spring 2010 line. I know it’s a few seasons old, but it’s so apropos for how I’m feeling. And everyone’s envious. At least I think it’s envy, it might just be the H1N1. Either way, I’m looking amazing and I expect to be dead within the week. Thus, I’ve included the wardrobe for the rest of my life, as I went about my daily tasks. Wish you were here (instead of living it up in the newfound paradise that is New New Jersey).
xoxo,
Ms. Ross
This is after I tore out and ate the heart of Plum Sykes...not very filling...
I felt cute and flirty after leading a rather bloody stampede on Wall St...
Popping off to work at Trader Joe's...
Just came from the gym where I did 3 hours (!) of zombie takedown cardio
I had a hot date with what was left of Anderson Cooper...three locks of
silver hair and a Ralph Lauren suit...Gloria says 'Hi.'
End of the world party at Marc Jacobs'; Marc's dead, obvi, but I still like to use his townhouse.
I think he'd approve
No comments:
Post a Comment