So I'm standing around outside Lincoln Center sort of freezing, despite my homeless strategy of wearing four days' worth of clothes instead of packing them, when a gasp and a hubbub and a convergence of bloggers happened, and I went to see the train wreck too. Instead I saw breasts. More clearly than I should have, given that it was 10 degrees below Fargo out. Turns out, a designer employed the old Tatas Sell song and dance with a fresh Frostbite Survivor twist.
The models paraded excruciatingly slowly around the entire square, attracting a lot of very close attention. I have so many questions, not the least of which is that this was supposed to be the fall collection -- skull and crossboobs for fall? I don't think so.
Who is this guy, and why is he wearing a shirt? And pants? The genius is the naked lips -- courageous! If you click on the photo so it's all huge and grainy, you can read the No Standing sign in the background. And the models' plans that are forming very slowly in their hypothermic minds about how they're going to axe murder that guy and floss the designer's neck with one of those dresses.
This is the designer enjoying the spotlight fully clothed. Her spring collection is hotly anticipated.