Where Oh Where Art Thou Brows, Pope RiRi?
The Met Gala’s theme this year is Heavenly Bodies, so if those messes wanted to be 100% on theme, they’d wear a t-shirt with a picture of Idris Elba’s naked body on it (or a picture of a topless Bea Arthur). But instead they decided to cause my Catholic abuelita to pray for their blasphemous souls by doing themselves up in papal drag. Case in point: RiRi!
RiRi easily won the game at the Met Gala in 2015 when she did herself up like a giant half-melted puddle of Velveeta. She won again last year when she looked like the scrap box at a Laura Ashley factory barfed all over her. Because Frances Fucking McDormand just wiped all the hos out (more on that holy vision of fucked-up perfection later), I can’t say that RiRi, who wore Margiela, totally won the 2018 Met Gala tonight. But I can say that I really want HBO to greenlight a second season of Young Pope called Young Pope 2: Losing My RIHligion.
The Pope’s looks are pretty gay, but RiRi managed to out-gay him by answering the question, “What if Liberace switched places with a Las Vegas mafia wife and then became the Pope?” But I can’t release a cloud of white smoke (read: weed vapor) declaring that RiRi is our new Pope when she did her brows like she was going to the Meth Gala instead. One of the lessers at the Met Gala should make themselves useful (I’m looking at you, Kendull and Kylie Jenner) and run down to a Duane Reade to pick up a Sharpie for Pope RiRi. Because having bleached brows goes against The Trinity as it says in the Bible:
Matthew 28:19 – Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Sharpie Brow.
Pics: Backgrid, Wenn.com