Textured, for the pleasure of the female.

“Does this make my thighs look fat?”

I’d kill for a big bag of gummy bears right now.

Gack. Please see my previous pontifications about designers and their inflated egos. (Say. Do you suppose that’s what those bulges are for? Storing ego?) No, I guess not.
What I started out to say was, I want to sue. I invented this look way (way) back while playing tennis and stuffing balls in my shorts and shirtsleeves. (Now now, get your mind out of the …) And I don’t want to hear about prior art.

The taste is all in the mouth.

One-bagger, two-bagger, …
How many bag-equivalents are these outfits? Total coverage, no apparent apertures. Can’t even see the *eyes*, for bog’s sake. The *window to the soul*!
Oh, right. Nevermind.

I kind of like it. Of course, it’s not fashion. Fashion is the intersection of art, craft, and yes – practicality. Art and taste are not the same thing. (Don’t get me wrong – taste and fashion are wonderful things, and they are of course the reason I read the Manolo with his incomparably sage judgement on these matters.)

This, instead, is art applied to playing with expression of the human silhouette. Taken for what it is, it’s fun and well done, no?

For some reason I think of tumors and B science fiction films.

I’m disturbed that their hands are showing. You’d have to have a hella good manicure to stand up to this.

And desertwind, I saw the gummy thing, too. They are like gummy mannequins.

condom avec les panniers. pourquoi?

How can she even see in that thing?

I saw a very strange opera years & years ago called “Help, help the Globolinks.” These are globolinks, I’m sure of it.

the Diva Leigh Says:

Uh, call girls for the Blue Men Group? Oh my!

Thank you, Diva, for helping me clean my keyboard. Most amusing! :-)