Anna Wintour gets a hard-on for unseasoned soggy breadsticks floating in a Styrofoam bowl full of lukewarm tap water (see: Blake NotSoLively), so it’s not shocking or a surprise that she’d put Dakota Johnson on the February cover of former fashion magazine turned celebrity month Vogue. I’m all for Vogue putting a Johnson on their cover (surprisingly, I’m not about to make a dick joke), but if they really want to bring fashion and glamour, they’d put EJ Johnson or Don Johnson in a Speedo on the cover.
Fifty Shades of Grey is less than a month away from splattering against thousands of movie screens everywhere and advance ticket sales of that mess are already beating records. Fifty Shades’ PR team has begun trying to convince us that Dakota Johnson is someone we should pay attention to and they somehow managed to get her a Vogue cover. Only the cover has leaked so far, but I’m sure as soon as the other pictures and interview comes out, doctors will use it to cure patients suffering from severe chronic insomnia.
Dakota Johnson is like your cousin’s forgettable friend who works as an office assistant for a medical supplies company and whose name you always forget so you call her Ashley whenever you see her. I get why they cast her ass in Fifty Shades. I mean, nepotism is always alive in Hollywood and that Ana chick is supposed to be fifty shades of bland. But couldn’t they have glamour’d Dakota Johnson up a bit for the cover of Vogue? I’ve seen more glamour and charisma in senior yearbook photo shoots. It kind of looks like the cover of a pamphlet for a new yeast infection medication. If the whole “movie star” thing doesn’t work out for her, she should be a model for pharmaceutical companies.
And since February’s cover of Vogue is giving us the visual definition of “meh,” I’m guessing that on March’s cover trick will either be a wet piece of cardboard or Lauren Conrad. Same thing, really.
Kendall Jenner usually has a dead look in her eyes that tells us that her soul was sucked out of her being, put in an envelope and sent to Lucifer in Hell as part of the pact her family has with him. But at last night’s British Fashion Awards in London, Kendull’s usually dead eyes lit up when she saw the Gymboree Mick Jagger, Harry Styles, at the top of the stairs. While looking like a hobo Beetlejuice, Harry got locked in an intense conversation with Cara DellaReese (Their “intense conversation” went like this: He asked her, “You got any of the bad shit?” To which she said, “I ain’t got the bloat for nothing, bitch!“) as Kendull threw him a parched look that said, “Please pay attention to me, please pay attention to me, please take a picture with me or my Satanic pimp of a mother will punish me for not meeting this month’s fame whore quota!” Harry treated Kendull the same way Kim Kartrashian treats North West when a camera isn’t around. He ignored her. Kendull is me at every party.
You probably can’t even see that picture, because it’s hard to see anything when your eyelashes are on fire. Blame the scorching flames shooting off of the dude in the background’s piping hot eyebrow situation:
That butch George Michael is obviously Cara DeliVeal’s personal brow tamer. But then again that “What have I done to deserve this kind of punishment?” look he’s making tells me that he could also be Kendull’s bodyguard.
Anyway, according to E!, Harry didn’t ignore Kendall the entire night. Even though the children on Twitter want Emma Watson and Harry Styles to be a thing, he flirted with Kendall, so says E!’s source (Hi, PMK!).
Meanwhile, the source adds that Styles caught up with his former flings, and “flirted with Kendall a bunch.” He also got up on the dance floor as well and “was the ladies man all night.”
Oh, PMK, I mean, “source,” stop being bi-phobic. Harry himself has said that he’s not only a ladies man. He’s a ladies man, a gentleman’s man, a whatever man.
And here’s more pictures of Harry Styles looking like a group of strung out guinea pigs got the meth sweats in a bad way before dying on top of his head. I also threw in pictures of others last night including RiRi, Emma Watson, Lana Del Rey, Courtney Love, Posh Beckham and Naomi Campbell. Yes, Lana, Courtney and Cara were at the same event in London last night. If you’re in London and bought coke sometime between late last night and today, you got ripped off. You bought crushed Rolaids. All of the coke in London was snorted up last night.
When the employees of VOGUE moved into their new office at 1 World Trade Center earlier this month, they discovered a surprise. No, it wasn’t that building management had left them an all-blueberry muffin basket; it was that their office was overrun with rats. RATS! Pointy kitties! Multiple sources tell Gawker that the rat problem is so bad, fancy reptilian humanoid Anna Wintour has informed VOGUE staff that they have to prove that her office is rat-free before she steps into it. No word on where she’s currently working, but I’ll assume she was able to find a warm rock to curl up on.
I’m not sure what Anna’s problem is; rats are super smart! Has she never seen Ratatouille? That one rat learned how to speak English AND cook French food. Show some respect, Anna! And it’s not just rats! Remember how Cinderella’s mice friends designed AND sewed her a ballgown? A BALLGOWN! Rats and mice are practically people! Sure, maybe one will bite you and you’ll have to haul ass to the hospital for a rabies shot, but I’m sure the rest are cool.
Or maybe she refuses to enter her office because she’s terrified that one of the rats will look like Miss Bianca, and she knows she could never compete with such a chic bitch.
I know rats are everywhere in New York City, but I can’t help but wonder if somebody put those rats in Anna Wintour’s office on purpose? Let’s see, who would be deeply tasteless enough to get revenge on Anna Wintour by filling her office with creatures known to hang around trash. Quick, somebody check Kim Kardashian’s klothes for traces of rat hair!
Anna Wintour Admits That Putting Kim And Kanye Kardashian On The Kover Of Vogue Was A Stunt Queen Move
When Anna Wintour put the Cheap n’ Tacky Twins on the cover of VOGUE seven months ago, most of us assumed it was because she was getting sick of waking up every morning to 30 new voice mail messages left by Kanye West that start with him begging her to help him turn his porn star-turned-reality star girlfriend into a high klass lady, and end with him crying “IT’S NOT FAIR! I WANT IT!”
But it turns out it actually had nothing to do with Kanye throwing a tantrum or a kall from Kim Kardashian’s agent, Lucifer H. Satan. During an interview with Alina Cho for Fashionista at the MET on Monday night, Anna Wintour admitted that she put the Cheap n’ Tacky Twins on the cover of VOGUE because she knew it would be controversial and get VOGUE some much-needed attention. Then she made buttholes everywhere pucker with delight when she hissed this perfectly wonderful air-kiss to the drowsy hooker queen and her current husband:
“I think if we just remain deeply tasteful and just put deeply tasteful people on the cover, it would be a rather boring magazine! Nobody would talk about us. It’s very important that people do talk about us.”
At first I wanted to kick out a chair and tell that penis head haired-looking trick to take a seat for using those two dumb fame whores to get attention, but then she came in like a cunty cloud and threw that beautiful shade and I melted into a puddle of happiness. I always forget how devastating a good backhanded compliment can be! It’s easy to call Kim Kardashian a tacky trampy plastic-assed narcoleptic-faced hooker, but it takes a bitch working at a whole ‘nother level to describe her as “not deeply tasteful“.
If only Pink, the orphan Kim wanted to adopt from Thailand, had read Anna’s interview before she spoke to The Daily Mail about not wanting to get adopted into that family of fame-humping trash. Instead of saying “It wouldn’t be good for me“, she could have said “I’m not ready to drop out of school and become a full-time fame whore, so it wouldn’t be good for Kim and Pimp Mama Kris.”
Here’s Kim looking like a factory second Real Doll and wearing another rubber skirt while hustling her new toilet water (sorry, eau de toilette) in Australia:
Because Halloween is nothing if not a perfect opportunity to use your daughter as a prop in hopes of scoring brownie points with the fashion world, mother of the decade Kim Kardashian pulled her favorite fashion accessory out of the skunk costume she was originally wearing (skunks are so 5 minutes ago) and threw on a black satin throw pillow cover so that North West could be the André Leon Talley to her Anna Wintour. Kim’s partners in blatant kiss-assery are her makeup artist and her son, who look about as thrilled as North West to be dressed as Grace Coddington and Karl Lagerfeld. Not pictured: Kim’s current husband Kanye West, who was dressed as the most important fashion designer of all time, Kanye West.
Those poor babies – they want nothing to do with this mess! That Karl baby appears to be making a break for it (good for you, Baby Karl!), and you know North would do the same if it weren’t for Kim klutching on to her with that klassic Kardashian iron pimp grip. Even Kim’s friend appears to be going to her happy place. But Kim is living for that Anna Wintour costume, which is crazy because this has got to be the first Halloween in hooker history that she hasn’t worn something that shows off every inch of her silicone-stuffed ass.
Oh wait. It appears I spoke too soon.
Of course Kim couldn’t go a whole Halloween without stuffing 30lbs of ass into 5lbs of spandex. Shortly after Kim got a good picture of herself dressed up as the editor-in-chief of VOGUE for Instagram, she handed North off to the nannies and got her Slutoween on by dressing up as a dead-eyed hooker skeleton. Only Kim could make a skeleton costume look skanky. But her costume does make total sense – Kim is famous for getting boned, after all.
George Clooney Has Invited Anna Wintour To His Wedding, Which Means It Will Probably Be Featured In Vogue
Raise your hand if you just pictured a stoned Brad Pitt with pieces of wedding cake mashed into his beard elbowing a feminine-looking Montgomery Burns out of the better spot to catch the bouquet. Just me? Okay then.
According to Page Six, Anna Wintour will be a guest at the wedding between fancy human rights lawyer-type Amal Alamuddin and the nipple suit-wearing Batman George Clooney in Italy next month. A source claims that Anna got an invite because she hooked up Amal with a custom gown by Anna’s close friend Oscar de la Renta, and that she plans to feature the wedding in an upcoming issue of Vogue. Oooooh! Sounds like someone is desperately trying to crawl back out of the shame pit she threw herself in when she put the Cheap & Tacky Twins on the cover back in April. Too bad, Kaa from The Jungle Book, but the internet NEVER FORGETS.
The source also says that Anna will 100% be there to watch George and Amal cut the cake and drunk dance to YMCA while an obnoxious Craigslist DJ named MC Sweet Jamz screams into a mic “COME ON GRANDMA RUTH, GET YOUR ASS ON THE DANCE FLOOR!” (I wish – that’s more like the wedding of George Clooney and Sarah Larson) even though the wedding will take place in the middle of all the fancy European fashion shows. That’s how committed she is to making it up to him for the time she put George on the June 2000 cover with Gisele Bundchen looking like a cheesy prom photo from Mermaid High.
And speaking of Sarah Larson…do you think if George wasn’t marrying such a posh lady, he’d still get a spread in Vogue? You’re right, of course he wouldn’t; the pages of Vogue wouldn’t be able to handle all the refined taste and class that comes from a photo shot by Annie Leibovitz of that hot skanky mess Elisabetta Canalis in a white lace bridal bikini, trying to remove her own garter with her teeth.
I had two major thoughts while looking at this picture of Kristen Stewart at the Chanel Paris Fashion Week show. Yes, two – my brain was working extra hard this morning for some reason:
1. What the hell even is that smile supposed to be? It looks like KStew is trying to pull a Side Eyeing Chloe (the key word here being trying; KStew can never reach the level of flawless toothy DILLIGAF glamour of Chloe).
2. What picture of Blossom-era Joey Lawrence did Kristen Stewart bring in to her stylist? Was it this one? What am I saying, OF COURSE it was that one.
Kristen Stewart dyed her hair the same color as recalled tainted baby food for the movie American Ultra, but there’s no word on why she decided to go one step further up the fug ladder by chopping it all off. I’m guessing it’s also for a movie, and that movie is a biopic of Burnie, the Miami Heat mascot. Judging by how busted that hair is, combined with the fact that KStew’s acting range is limited to various shades of boredom, I’m guessing KStew plays Bernie during his awkward teen years. I smell an Oscaaaaaar!
And my say something nice is this: I always wondered what it would look like if early-Twlight Robert Pattinson moved out to the country, dyed his hair with some flea market Feria, married a drywall installer named Darryl and started hosted Passion Parties from the garage. And now I know! Thanks Kristen!
Here’s more of Kristen at the Chanel show wearing some shitty genie pants and $10 white pumps. Real talk – she looks like a dollar store Jasmine doll I had as a kid, and that’s all I’ll say about that. Also in attendance was Phil Collins daughter, the chick from the vampire show, Kaa from The Jungle Book wearing an Anna Wintour wig, and Jesus’s coke-dealing stepbrother Jared Leto.
Yesterday, model Emma Appleton tweeted a screenshot of a skeezy Facebook message that she claims came from the creeper who looks like he regularly hears the words, “Sir, jacking off on the women’s panties in the lingerie department will not be tolerated. Put your leaky dick away and please leave,” from a department store security guard. Emma alleged that he offered to shoot her for Vogue if she fucked him. Terry’s spokeswhore spit out a lukewarm stream of denials and accused Emma of faking it for attention. American Vogue also responded to that mess and in a vague statement, which they gave to The Wrap, they said that they haven’t hired Uncle Terry since 2010 and they’re not looking to work with him anytime soon.
“The last assignment Terry Richardson had for US Vogue appeared in the July 2010 issue and we have no plans to work with him in the future.”
Vogue is VAGUE. I’m not sure if Vogue is shading Uncle Terry or shading Emma or a little of both. In that Facebook message, Uncle Terry doesn’t specify which Vogue, so it could be Vogue Neverland or Vogue North Korea for all we know. But I wouldn’t put it past American Vogue. I mean, they put two dried cum stains stuck to a pair of dirty chonies on the cover, so Anna Wintour is devoid of shame.
Illustration: AleXsandro Palombo
Immediately after I read those words in Mindy Kaling’s Vogue interview, I ran around my house collecting all the candles I could, assembled a makeshift shrine out of a picture of Indigo from Rainbow Brite, an old DVD containing 6 burned episodes of The Office, a half-empty can of Diet Coke, a very empty bag of Doritos, and prayed that Anna Wintour hasn’t yet read the part of her interview where she dares to speak the six most offensive words one could ever say in the pages of Vogue. Bravery, thy name is Mindy Kaling:
“There’s a whole list of things I would probably change about myself. For example, I’m always trying to lose fifteen pounds. But I never need to be skinny. I don’t want to be skinny. I’m constantly in a state of self-improvement.”
Or maybe Anna has read it, but hasn’t yet had time to mark Mindy for death because she’s been too busy hanging out with Remus and Romulus. Then again, maybe reading the words “lose fifteen pounds” was enough to keep Mindy in her good graces. After all, Anna Wintour’s definition of ‘skinny’ is probably a picture of a sick science class skeleton (which would define “thin” as a healthy 80-90lbs, and “slim” as teetering on the edge of obese). There’s a good chance she read ‘I don’t want to be skinny’ and lovingly hissed: “Of course not, my dear! The goal isn’t skinny; it’s slenderly gaunt.”
Regardless, just to be safe, I’ll be thumbing a rosary for her all night (ew, not like that).
And they would have had all 4, but Kris Jenner wasn’t able to reschedule her appointment with Satan (it’s tax time and he’s suuuuper busy). So it was just a greasum threesome between frightening lifelike praying mantis Anna Wintour, human basket of kittens Kanye West, and the heavily-sedated slow-roasted turkey leg know as Kim Kardashian. Anna, Kanye, and Kim all went out to celebrate successfully pulling off the world’s most elaborate and rotten April Fool’s prank by going out for dinner and bathing in the blood of a sacrificial ram slaughtered beneath the pits of Hell. I’m just speculating, of course; I didn’t actually see them eating dinner.
Some of you may be looking at Kim and wondering what in the name of The Sock One would posses someone to go out for a fancy dinner in nothing but her underwear and a dining room table runner. It’s just Kim’s way of reminding everyone that just because her kurdled milk ass has graced the cover of a high-class magazine like Vogue, she’s still the same old hooker-looking call girl you know and love. For more information regarding pricing and services, please contact Pimp Mama Kris at 1-800-KIMPIMP.
Here’s more of the Triad of Terror out for dinner last night. I’m having trouble trying to figure out exactly what color Kim’s sausage casing is, because it’s not quite green and it’s not quite brown. Hideous taupe? Is hideous taupe a color? Rotten tuna caught in a net of trash? Hold on, let me get out my 64 box of Crayolas…