Dear Jenna Lyons,

Were you raised by wolves who didn’t let you read Vogue (and then did you kill these wolves, wear their skins and read all the Vogue in the world?) Did no one ever tell you that wool and satin and polka dots and stripes look crazy together? Oh, everyone told you, and you didn’t give a shit, and now you’re a global style icon and one of the highest paid women in the fashion industry? You with your shnozzy shoz and leggy legness and dorky glasses and mousy hair, a sexy/ugly pillar of pattern-clad-sparkly-capri-pant-wearing perfection and the object of my Pen Pal affection.
Are you familiar with the term sexy/ugly? It just means that that you’re super hot in a nothing-about-you-should-work-but-all-of-it-does kind of way, like you should have been cast in “She’s All That” instead of Rachael Leigh Cook (what happened to her anyway?)
But back to you, wearing “mustard” before it was the “it” color for spring (I don’t know if it is the “it” color that just sounds right) and never not wearing high heels, even on casual Fridays. Because when you’re Jenna Lyons, nothing is casual, except leaving your husband and the father of your child for another woman and never publicly acknowledging any of it, I guess. I know that your star is rapidly rising in the Lezlie community (they love when semi-famous women leave their semi-famous husbands for other semi-famous women), but I want you to know that I had a girl crush on you first, before I even heard rumors that you were a scissor sister.
Jokes aside, Jenna, let’s be serious for a second. This isn’t just a physical thing that I feel for you; I admire your work ethic too. Styling an entire army of models to look like your clones at NY Fashion Week is impressively self-congratulatory, and I can’t wait to see how your narcissism manifests itself-I mean what you do next.
Jane Helpern

About Jane Helpern

Writer & Over-sharer. @janeohelp