I know it's a bore and very simple to write so much hate filled piss cakes, but people make it easy. Take Stella McCartney. Nothing against her personally. I mean, sure she's the daughter of Paul, she's hardly going to struggle. I understand she designs clothes. And from what I've seen I can't say that there's anything particularly that distinguishes her from most other British fashion designers. I suppose they're like artists, prone to bouts of the emperors new clothes syndrome. But none of this is important. It's the arseholes, the shallow sad lives that are willing to queue outside for four hours outside H&M just so they can bag a bargain and tell their mates, 'Ooh look, I've got a Stella McCartney...aren't I great?' Well, excuse me if I don't entertain this collective middle england gasp. Maybe it wasn't surprising that the majority were women but what was more surprising, considering that it was H&M, was that there wasn't a stampede of gay men, demanding McQueen!
This problem does go wider and it is particularly annoying. (I swear blind it does exist). It's the habit some fuckers have, to refer to items of clothes as fashion designers. Hence,
Prick. Ooh look it's a McCartney. Think it'll go with my Miyakke? Oh I don't know. Maybe it'll go with that McQueen belt or those Starke shades.
Me. I'm sorry for you. I used to be like that. Die soon.
Go ahead, if you want to be back-stabbingly despised or kind of treated as a secret joke. These people are living, and exisitng like they are in Absolutely Fabulous or Glamourama, and they need to be beheaded. There is an aristocracy out there but it's not the upper class, it's the new art media elite (again I have some experience in this area until I got myself better. But this tale does create other problems as I'll explore next week.) and they have to be stopped, as their stupidity and twattery inspires cold blooded murder. These will be the same cunts who will queue for years outside of King Harrods. They're just clothes. That's all.
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