What do you call a baby dragon? Is there an official term? Like tadpole?
"Is there a bare minimum of support I can offer?"
I'm OK with her rocking this post-partum hair outside the hospital.
Extra bad: wearing sneakers in someone else's bed.
He kind of also looks like he just had a baby.
Work that bone structure. Work it.
"But you always skip me!"
"Maybe if you dressed nice once in a while you be in the blog more."
His concerned face causes me concern.
Opposite the Edge of Glory, you will find the Fringe of Failure.
I love when the family washes dishes even though they have a dishwasher.
In the darkness, she waits for you.
Outside? In public? Shameless. Flagrant.
Here to save us from mundane selections. Like sweatsuits.
This look is from nowhere in particular. It's Zamunda's native garb or something.
Has he already worn this coat? He may have. Sorry if this is a repeat.
We're all here! Because nothing's more soothing than a roomful of teenagers!
Go toward the light, Carol Ann.
Thanks for tuning in each week, guys. People often ask me why I write this blog, usually with a deeply worried expression, so it's nice to know that there are people out there reveling in the hotness. I'm laying out the donation button in case you want to throw a dollar at me like you would to one of those dudes who sings on the subway or does the living statue thing on a street corner. This fashion recap is my dance to earn your pennies. If you don't feel like giving me money, consider commenting on an entry. I'd love to get some feedback, hear your opinions, or receive anecdotes about the Huxtable-inspired fashion choices you've made recently.
OK, now gimme your lunch money.
See you again next week.