Well, almost. It looks like they ran out of paint towards the end, but I’m sure any of us would make the same mistake. It’s impossible to estimate how much paint you’d need to cover Rihanna’s infinitely vast expanse of forehead. It’s like trying to comprehend how much water is in the ocean or grains of sand on a beach; it is not meant to be known (#deep).
Rihanna is W Magazine’s alien princess cover girl for September, and earlier today she revealed the cover on Twitter (insert Tobias Fünke “I’m afraid I just blue myself” joke here), as well as a bunch of pictures from the nightmare-looking photo shoot. RiRi calls it as an “Eskimo Horror Cover Story”, but I’d be more inclined to describe it as “Tired Ewok prostitute from the red light district of Endor” meets “The broken condom baby of Wez from The Road Warrior and a Qallupilluit, with just a pinch of Old Gregg.”
But if I didn’t know this was a high-fashion photo shoot for W Magazine, I’d be sure I was looking at a deviantART picture based off some weird Twilight/True Blood crossover fan fiction (I’m guessing either a story about Jacob Black losing his virginity to a sexy shape-shifting cloud of weed smoke).
The only thing missing was RiRi’s chichis. No greased-up booby balls! Someone at W must have a personal vendetta against RiRi’s Balzac Brat titties, because they were buried under layers and layers of Wookiee fur in each shot. Can you even legally call it a photo shoot if RiRi’s Barbadian blunt tip nips never make an appearance? I don’t think you can.
Here’s the rest of Rihanna looking like PETA‘s worst nightmare, as well RiRi posing in some Muppet-looking Balmain sweaters with the legendary Iman and bitchmaster general Naomi Campbell.