Hot Slut Of The Day!

Iris Apfel, American fashion icon, serious business woman, purveyor of taste, HSN jooree designer and Arthur the Aardvark’s nana who taught him that if your glasses aren’t big enough to double as a cup holder for a Big Gulp, then they’re not worth throwing over your face, darling.

When a ho walks down the streets of Manhattan with their skin souffle top spilling out of their size 12 stretch jeans, they might get their fashion rights read to them by a glorious creature they’ll mistake for an owl that got tangled up in the curtain tieback drawer at Pier 1 Imports. But it’s actually the paragon of style herself, Iris Apfel!

The 90-year-old hybrid of Harry Potter and Hedwig the Owl (with a dash of George Burns for good measure) has long been a tastemaker in the fashion world and she spoke to W Magazine (via Daily Mail) about how her eyeballs regularly shoot out loads of topaz-encrusted barf into her dinosaur contact lens glasses over the state of style today. Since Andy Rooney is currently unavailable (get better, you old bitch!), we really need Iris to spoon feed us crusty mounds of grouchiness like this:

“Now when I walk down Fifth Avenue in the summertime I just want to throw up. It seems that the fatter and uglier people are, the fewer clothes they wear. The shorts and flip-flops and tight jeans on butts that go from here to Poughkeepsie.

I always say they should put people in jail for wearing clothes like that. Especially stretch jeans over size 10 – they should be outlawed. Ten years ago people were starting to look like slobs in New York, now it’s an epidemic…. Oh, now that would be horrible. It’s a free country – if you want to look like a freak, that’s your problem.”

Iris, who once turned down Lindsay Lohan’s offer to be that mess’ personal fashion mentor, then whipped her cane at the dreadful celebwhores of today:

“Most of the young people today look dreadful. And celebrities look even worse. They don’t know what to do with themselves. At the Golden Globes and Oscars they all look alike – it seems like they’re all wearing the same nightgown and this year nobody had any jewellery at all.

Only Helen Mirren was wearing a beautiful necklace, but even she got it wrong because the necklace just ruined the dress. I think the designer must have wanted to kill himself when he saw her.”

YES! Put on all your rings and slap us, Memaw Iris! There’s fat slobs in nightgowns everywhere. The sun would always be smiling if we all dressed like a Santa Fe gift shop and a Jo-Ann’s Fabric store wrestled on top of our bodies and the only winner was us, because we came out looking like a billion dollar hobo. Keep giving us the truth, Iris.

Iris has inspired me to dazzle up my current ensemble (of baggy torn sweat shorts and a stained v-neck that looks like it worked as rest stop toilet paper in a past life) with a big chunky ring. Well, I don’t have one of those, so I’ll just pass a kidney stone, spray paint it turquoise and WAH-LA!