Met Gala and Beard Awards
I have just returned to my humble abode after a romp in the Big Apple and I am having a panic attack. The influx of information, pictures, congratulatory tweets, and envy-because I am sitting at home with Mario Badescu drying lotion on my face- has become very overwhelming.
Expect the longest article to ever be written, longer than Infinite Jest and Swanns Way put together- on Met Gala, on Beard awards, on how I wish I was at both events simultaneously and how that’s just one reason I wish I had an identical twin (that is just slightly uglier than me). Expect drooling, expect shock, expect awe, expect photos, expect a novel on the puzzle that is K.Stew: her facial expression, her dress, and her mummified club feet at Met Ball.
I hope you all are better than I am currently. Need a beta blocker. Need a brown bag to breathe into. Need James Franco to shave and to stop appearing to public events stoned.
Sincerely Yours,
Rox
PS. Holy shit I need to get to Next restaurant in Chicago NOW (winner of Best New Restaurant at Beard Awards). They change themes every three months and they are currently doing an homage to El Bulli…. this could be my last opportunity. I just fainted.
