Instagram is a cesspool of skin.
Literally. Unless I’m following hoards of the wrong kind of users.
We should, however, be proud of our largest organ. After all, it is unique. Colour, markings, scars, clarity, texture, smell.
A single touch from someone or something, can send us sky rocketing, either into full on goosebumps of grossness or as my friend would say “a big ole batch of panty soup”.
Anyway, back to Instagram. I swear this all is connected.
I was thumb scrolling through miles of monotonous pictures when I hit this!
Right away I thought “did this fine beauty actually pick this out her own self?”
Sure, Gigi Hadid is a Victoria Secret model. Sure, she gets paid zillions to keep her body tight like a tiger. Sure, when a high-end designer wants to throw an expensive gown on you for free you sure as hell smile and nod and wear the hideous creation with pride. I, too, could do this I’m sure. If I only ate right, exercised, wanted to live my life for my weight and chummed with the elite of fashion cartel.
And, God bless Versace. The thought behind this dress is there. A company founded in 1978 and is estimated to be worth $410 million Euros. That family has suffered. With the murder of founder Gianni in 1997, his sister Donatella toke the reigns, with older brother Santo, to keep this rock ‘n roll Italian fashion boat going. All the highs and lows of creating the pieces that will make or break you….similar to the cattle business I suppose.
However, I do believe that Buffalo Bill was consulted in this collaboration. An eloquently chosen, thin, piece of human hide from his closet, next to the lotions, drapes over her body to showcase her own delicate skin at the Victoria Secret’s after party. Because, Lord forbid we may not have seen enough of her skin on stage. I do, also, feel that the bit of shimmer coming from the “sheer” has characteristics similar to the cleaning and filleting of fish. So a possibility that famous fish chef Rick Stein was hit up for his expertise in the design as well.
But to each their own. Quite possibly you have a number similar to this in your own closet. I suggest wearing it proudly, maybe not around serial killers or hungry, fish loving cats.