My pal Jayne and I got together on the internets to chat about the looks at the MET gala, a fancy exclusive party we will probably (99.9%) never ever be invited to, while sitting in our respective offices wearing some combination of muscle tees and ripped flannels, because that is just how we roll. (PS It should be noted we don’t HATE everything. We’d both like to be buried in Rihanna’s crocodile situation).
Here are some highlights:
Jayne: it looks like she got out of the shower, scrunched her hair with Dep, and wiped in on her skirt.
J: I wonder if she was mad they made her look like a puerto rican girl meeting her boyfriend’s parents for the first time?
J: Fuck You Gwyneth
Y: I think I have this dress. It’s from Judy’s and I wore it to my 8th grade dance.
J: It’s like futuristic DIY baroque.
Y: Cameron Diaz looks like the color beige. Like, I can’t even make out which part is her.
J: She needs to watch those frontal pleats. Like why do you work out like you’re an MMA fighter and then add inches with PLEATS?