I’m not sure what’s going on with the Next to New shop, which is normally a classy institution. This one looks, literally, like something the cat dragged in. In fact, you can still see the cat. You can see it saying, “what in the name of Fancy Feast was I thinking??”
We might ask the same of the artist. And hope that it wasn’t a self-portrait, because I wouldn’t want to make fun of someone’s deficiencies, like a possibly fatal case of rosacea, challenging hair, and a HUGE SHELL GLUED TO HER FOREHEAD.
So is that cut a “flock of seagulls,” or just “seagulls?” My hair gets kind of like that in the winter. It kind of dries out and gets frizzy when it’s cold, and maribou storks use it for their nests.
The only solution for unmanagable thin hair is to accessorize with deep-fried tripe crispies. You wouldn’t think that one shell would clash with another shell, but the conjunction of majestic “clam shell as doctor’s reflector” and “tiny organic nodules of coral extending from the head like a disturbing white growth” just does not work. Nothing about this works except the grim “kill me now” stare. The face did not deserve the cruelty that hot glue perpetrated.
Craft kits. Just say no.
4 Responses to “Our Lady of One Huge Shell”
Yike! This looks so much like me I thought I was astral-projecting, AND nearly had a stroke.
What is that hideous silver thing on her left? Argh! Worst. Horror, ever.
Davy Jones’s sister?
I think Patricia is right.