I am mildly obsessed with musician Alison Goldfrapp's name. Say it with me: Goldfrapp. It's so fun. It could work in so many contexts: as a replacement swear word ("Aw, goldfrapp, I dropped my feather boa into my drink"), a raunchy verb ("I went home with him and we goldfrapped for hours"), an obscure sport popular in Scandinavian countries ("Hallå, I am Fjord Bjorn, zee Svedish national goldfrapp champion") an expensive novelty iced coffee beverage ("I'll have a grande goldfrappuccino with whipped cream, please") the name of a dashing, authority-averse TV detective whose boss is always yelling at him ("Get ... me... GOLDFRAPP") or the name of the aforementioned detective's villainous nemesis, frequently screamed at the skies while our hero kneels over a dead body and shakes his fist ("GooooldfrAAAAAAAAAAAPPPP!"), or even as a noun for something sort of squicky ("Shoot, I got goldfrapp all over my Jimmy Choos").
Unfortunately, if she's not careful, it could end up in our lexicon as, "Oh my God, that woman is totally pulling a Goldfrapp," or "I almost goldfrapped myself when I saw that shirt."
Behold:
Business-disco wear created with a mosaic of sequins? This wouldn't even pass muster in Guys and Dolls On Ice, let alone in the regular world. So sit down, honey -- you're goldfrapping the boat.
