BAI LING: I know, darlings. Despite the fact that my right nipple might be peeking out to say hello, I look surprisingly demure. Why? Why would my many personalities confab and decide to go lo-pro? Because look around you, darlings, it's Cannes. Everyone's tit is hanging out. I'm like Princess Diana floating in a sea of Jordans around here. Look at this young lady:
SNORE. I wore that to my 8th grade graduation.
YAWN. White catsuits with illusion nettings are so Plant Zarcon 2031. I already wore this in the future, you fools.
And speaking of fools:
When you're attending a party at which Ivana Trump mauls Crockett/Tubbs, the only way to get noticed at all is to tuck your goodies away and put on your Mysterious Face (Face Number 7, for those of you with my book, Bai Ling's Guide To Mysterious Faces). I learned that from Tara Reid.
