The Great Minds

Manolo says, it is true, they think alike. The Fabulous Girl she wrote about the matching mother-daughter holiday sweaters yesterday!

4 Responses to “The Great Minds”

  1. Agnes October 12, 2005 at 3:12 pm #

    Manolo, have you been to this blog – http://youknitwhat.blogspot.com/ ? I highly suspect that you’d enjoy it very much.

  2. Manolo the Shoeblogger October 12, 2005 at 3:15 pm #

    The Agnes she is exactly correct. Manolo loves the You Knit What! In the fact, it is already in his copious blogroll.

    There are so many good blogs that the Manolo he is pressed hard to keep up with the readings on the internets.

  3. Annalucia October 12, 2005 at 4:19 pm #

    Regarding the matching mother-daughter outfits, the Annalucia will only say that the Manolo and the Fabulous Girl, they do not go far enough. The concept is the vile abomination from the infernal regions. Even when they are not in execrable taste, they are wrong – the design will either make the mother look childish or present too adult a style for the child. It is more than wrong; it is criminal.

    It is hoped that the Manolo will excuse the intemperate language of the Annalucia. But she had not yet recovered from the shock of the photos of the Sweater Lady in the spray-on gold stretchpants, and now she is struck in the face with this. Perhaps she should lie down awhile, with a cold compress to the eyes and the forehead.

  4. E. October 12, 2005 at 5:49 pm #

    I saw this article today, and I thought to myself: “Self! Surely the marvelousness that is Manolo would appreciate it? So send it to him!”

    http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2005/10/10/AR2005101001355.html

    The quote that the Manolo would like is here:

    [On Eeeeevil Karl Lagerfield]

    “He’s absolutely right, I have no idea. I can but try. The only thing I can come up with at that moment is that Lagerfeld’s powdered white ponytail has dusted the shoulders of his suit with what looks like dandruff but isn’t. Also, not yet having undergone his alarming weight loss, and seated on a tiny velvet chair, with his large doughy rump dominating the miniature piece of furniture like a loose, flabby . . . muffin overrisen from its pan, he resembles a Daumier caricature of some corpulent, inhumane oligarch drawn sitting on a commode, stuffing his greedy throat with the corpses of dead children, while from the other end he [excretes] huge, malodorous piles of tainted money. How’s that for new and groundbreaking, Mr. L.?”

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