Monday WHAT THE FOCK lets us take a look at Paris Fashion Week from a slightly different angle to our Friday Flash Lust…
I swear I saw that lady sitting on top of my Granny’s downstairs toilet – the posh one, for guests like. The one with the lavender soap and the potpourri and the toilet roll holder. Fanncccchhhhyyy.
Once the domain of cyber-crusties at music festivals, fairy wings have been appropriated by the fash pack, replacing glittery, gaudy, sequinned DIY jobs, with a more refined matchy-matchy look. Topped with a ludicrously expensive scarf natch.
A cross between the Reptisaurus in Jurassic Park and a Scottish Flying Machine, fashion, once again, predicts the future.
This is not a bag…this is a picture of a bag…seen at Paris Fashion Week snapped by Tommy Ton
A picture of a bag is a post-postmodern, self-reflexive, self-referential, existential oxymoron of Jungian proportions, but is just really an excuse to buy another bag.
