I have this new theory about Lady Gaga that I am telling everyone, so you might as well be next. Namely, she is actually really talented -- every time I hear "Paparazzi" I think, "Oh, that's right, she CAN sing" -- and therefore probably doesn't need to be wearing this sort of thing:
I mean, for all our LOOK INTO PANTS screeching about Gaga, I get it: Her wardrobe is performance art, or at the very least, it's a ploy for attention that can easily be explained away as performance art. But I think these wacktacular get-ups are starting to distract from her actual skillz. Also, at a certain point she's going to reach the end of her wacktacular rope and cycle around to wearing, like, jeans and a tank top. THAT would shocking at this point. So, now that I think about it, maybe her two-year reign of pantlessness was all just an elaborate ploy designed so that, eventually, girlfriend can leave the house in her Slanket and we'll all just be like, "Well, at least she's comfortable." Right?
Oh, this outfit? I mean, I don't know. What can you say about this? She's a very confused widow, mere days from incarceration in the asylum, who's just had a terrible baking incident? What do you say when you meet Lady Gaga at a party and she's wearing Joan Holloway's underpants, covered in flour and making claw hands? "Wow, I just love your batshit crazy face veil. Is that attached to your wig?" "Carpal tunnel is a bitch, right? Gosh, I'm crazy about...that button down." Or just, "Can I get you something from the bar?"
I mean, for all our LOOK INTO PANTS screeching about Gaga, I get it: Her wardrobe is performance art, or at the very least, it's a ploy for attention that can easily be explained away as performance art. But I think these wacktacular get-ups are starting to distract from her actual skillz. Also, at a certain point she's going to reach the end of her wacktacular rope and cycle around to wearing, like, jeans and a tank top. THAT would shocking at this point. So, now that I think about it, maybe her two-year reign of pantlessness was all just an elaborate ploy designed so that, eventually, girlfriend can leave the house in her Slanket and we'll all just be like, "Well, at least she's comfortable." Right?
Oh, this outfit? I mean, I don't know. What can you say about this? She's a very confused widow, mere days from incarceration in the asylum, who's just had a terrible baking incident? What do you say when you meet Lady Gaga at a party and she's wearing Joan Holloway's underpants, covered in flour and making claw hands? "Wow, I just love your batshit crazy face veil. Is that attached to your wig?" "Carpal tunnel is a bitch, right? Gosh, I'm crazy about...that button down." Or just, "Can I get you something from the bar?"
