That’s what Katy IM’d me about the Michael Kors show earlier today. Said the bronzed fashion behemoth, the collection was “all about ease … relaxed glamour … the quintessential American sportswear wardrobe,” provided she likes beige. And looking posh.
The Kors golden couple. She has forgotten her pants.
Looks like this gave new meaning to the words “chunky knits.”
Although they do look cozy in that beach house-in-the-winter way. Wait, I’m just thinking of Something’s Gotta Give, aren’t I? Damn it.
This, particularly sans bra, kind of reminds me of the insane woman found on all university campii.
When it came to the glam, Michael did not mess around.
Speaking of mammon and excess: check out this ski-lodge special.
It’s like he’s just spoiling for a throwdown with Newkirk. I mean, a fur dress?
A 1988 rich bitch costume?
A fur skirt?
A fur snuggie?
Even the Trumps, who were apparently his muses, were confounded by the boldness.
Meanwhile, the 19th century butcher’s apron made its inevitable return to fashion.
The “sportswear,” separates were, predictably, pretty luxe and nifty.
Even given the Midas overload, there’s a certain Carrington-esque charm to this!
Um, she liked it.
She admits nothing.
[Images via Getty]
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Still here. Still without airbrushing. Still with teeth.
