This has been requested, so here we go:
Ah Lindsay. Constantly posing like a fish supper, ubiquitously sashaying about the place looking like an un-cordinated fright, attending the openings of all and sundry doors and envelopes, and then whining in the media about her Party Girl reputation.
Lindz, darling, if you don’t want the rep, stop going to so many parties, falling down flights of stairs, breaking bones, getting boob jobs, denying boob jobs, having boob job reversals and getting caught by the paparazzi whilst off your head in your car at 6am.
All that aside, after all, you are only a young’wan and I don’t think I’d want what I got up to at 19 splashed all over the worlds media, so what I actually want to take you to task over is the bleedin’ state of you. I’m mystified when I hear that Rachel Zoe styles you because it seems to me that you just can’t dress yourself. At all. Even with HELP. Your red carpet looks baffle me as well – you’re nineteen, not ninety! Wear something fun, please! Also, Scarlett Johansson, if you’re reading this, please take similar note.
Lindsay usually looks like she gets all her clothes in Penneys. And I do not say this in an admiring ‘wow, look how cleverly you dress on such a tight budget‘ manner, I say this in a ‘Lindsay, you look like all your clothes come from Penneys‘ way. Not quite so good.
I hereby present to you a heavily edited selection of Lindsay’s fashion disasters, which include the time she channeled an Elizabethan fop; the time she wore an outfit of such utter heinousness that it could hardly have been made worse – but she did it by completing it with some frump-a-licious shoes; the time she wore some LEATHER BERMUDA SHORTS and the time she wore boots and a jacket the colour of dog poo.