so i got to have this really beautiful moment with that weird spot that was ON my work and the eyeball shirt that was IN my work and then, just like motherfucking daffodils in spring, BAM, this fucking thing saunters in. like the barf of some middle-america mom who genuinely thinks wearing sweatpants out of the house is ok and who's children don't know what vegetables are.
this is a shirt. this is something that somebody OKAYED cause they thought, "YA, SOME LITTLE FUCKERS ARE REALLY GOING TO DIG THIIISSSSSSSS!"... and if the art and the legs and the hair and the fact that it has to do with DANCING isn't enough, all the black is like this 3-fucking-D velvet shit that is the stuff of fucking nightmares, SRSLY NO FUCKING JOKE. The birds aren't even happy about being a part of this P-O-S. I Think TRF has some long, hard thinking to do about their involvement in fashion and if perhaps they are doing more harm then good.