Fashion Model Zombies

[Thanks (I think) to Linda for the news tip]

Behold the Gucci FallWinter 2018/2019 Full Fashion Show. If you missed Night of the Living Dead, this will fill its place nicely. (http://www.nowtheendbegins.com/gucci-models-milan-fashion-week-featured-cyborg-carrying-severed-head-feminist-message/)

Director Alessandro Michele, apparently a walking advertisement for what’s wrong with Europe and why it won’t survive, has his models parade around a hospital bed in what looks like an operating theater. His message, they say, is a kind of “Cyborg Manifesto”–why does every pile of driveling dopes have a “manifesto”?–stating that we are whatever we carve and drug and mutilate ourselves to be: ain’t no reality no more, only “constructs.” There especially ain’t no male and female anymore. That was God’s idea, and we’re not buying it.

May I be excused?

What really caught my attention was the hostile expression on the models’ faces, sort of like Sonny Liston at a weigh-in. Fashion models used to smile. These all glower. They all need a good swift kick in the pants. One of them carries a severed head that resembles her own. Hot dog.

As for the, er, garments, I very much doubt I will ever see any of these being worn by an actual person. Some of them don’t even fit. In the words of the toddler who wouldn’t eat his sloppy joe, “It’s poop!”

We would be very, very wise to keep this particular culture rot out of America, if we possibly can.