It’s 80 degrees today in New York City, but winter is supposedly coming at some point, and I don’t have a winter coat. What will happen if I do not find one in time? Will I lose a finger? Will I become one of those people who stubbornly layers five sweaters underneath a jean jacket, like this guy I briefly dated who…
It was inevitable, but given the relative youth of the phenomenon itself doesn't this feel, a little, well, premature?
The fugly, vintage Yves Saint Laurent dress; the unfortunately-timed Isabella Blow-esque headgear; the boyfriend who looks like he can't remember then last time he bathed. Oh Kirsten, it's all wrong, wrong, wrong. We see that Miuccia phoned for help — did the style ambulance arrive too late?