Fashion Roadkill of the Day: Vol 29

The other night I woke up, panicked and screaming, as I felt myself being face-humped by an oversized furry caterpillar. Fortunately it was only Munridda but there was a split second beforehand when I wanted to fling the caterpillar to the ground and use a pillow to softly pummel the life out of it. That's the same reaction I had when I saw this lady.



I contemplated beating her with my handbag to stop both giant caterpillars from marauding her shoulders. They had probably been pupating in her bouffant hair or inside her ears, seemed like there was enough space in there. Upon closer inspection, I realised they were just furry epaulettes to signify her rank in the order of fashion victims. That or maybe her shoulders had so much hair that it sprouted through her clothing.

It's all because people aren't ashamed to wear fur anymore. Even those who can't afford a Russian Sable are trying to flaunt it by draping a bearskin rug around their shoulders.



Dead animals are being scraped off highways at an alarming rate for their pelts. Sometimes, due to demand, designers don't even bother converting the pelts into proper pieces of clothing. All they have time for is a lazy cut and paste job:



Finally I have found someone who truly encapsulates the meaning of Fashion Roadkill.