TFS: Dueling Queens

It's PissyFest '09, bitches!

"Frankly Andrew, your dress bored me on a cellular level. You would eat better if you thought outside the box."

"And as a shoe person, I kindly disagree with you. I think Andrew eats just fine. Don't you, Andrew?"

*gigglehairflip*

"This isn't the salesman show, you know. It's The Fashion Show, Starring Isaac Mizrahi."

"I think you're being too hard on the boy! I can see many many women shopping at Bergdorf who would buy a dress like that. You remember Bergdorf's don't you, Princess Target?"

"Designers, you'll have to excuse us. Clearly, our little guest judge here is getting a bit of a swelled head regarding his role here on The Fashion Show, Starring Isaac Mizrahi."

"Oh, I'm sorry. How silly of me to assume that gravitas isn't on the menu for this little rag show you've got here. By all means, there's the camera, Target Boy. Play to it."

"Gravitas? Is that what they're calling it now? What was wrong with 'Creepy old queens with no socks hitting on men half their age?"

"Isaac dear, we're not here to talk about your personal life. The dress is fine! Andrew's a boy with a future!"

"Ah yes, his future. I'm picturing you in a caftan making an embarassingly drunken pass at him. Does that about sum it up? Listen, you glorified Payless cashier, you're on The Fashion Show, Starring Isaac Mizrahi. You keep that tired old thing in your poorly tailored pants and do what you were hired to do and deliver opinions that don't conflict mine while leaving me an opening to say something bitchy and clever. That's the gig, grandpa. You can audition houseboys on your own time."

"Blahblahblah. Whatever. You'll be just fine, son. Come see me after the show."


[Screencaps: Projectrungay.blogspot.com]


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