Nina Ricci
That’s Anna Wintour right in front of us.
Comic book ethereal
Goth trains insane
Platforms, otherworldly
Stilts.
Creepy music,
Iridescent sheer pants,
Kinda prom-gown-y.
Beth pinches me.
Hat Dips.
Simple hat.
Dipping over face.
Giant ruffle.
Spiraling out from crotch.
Full waist long skinny
The details curl
Tiered ruffle explosion
Space aging
Who are those girls
Who are those girls
It Girls, Nylon magazine,
Front seats, something.
Eyeballs and daisies
In their face and hair.
When the lights slam out
The drums are pocked
It’s very punk and goth
The shoes, The Cure
The trains resisting motion
Suddenly I’m crying
Electronica blaring
Red red satin
Red gets applause
Nothing can ever happen in a normal way.
I was thinking so bad I had to take a Xanax.
