Oh, sweetheart, what can be done about this? Even Jazz Hands, overdone blush, a Mardi Gras Reynolds Wrap sash, and a Newton-John headband cannot distract from what’s at hand here. Bless your heart.
And this one could have been easily prevented with a razor. Can this even be real?
Usually pleated pants are the worst part of a photo op, but not in this case:
At least his trousers aren’t VINYL. What is up with that? Even the cat is struggling to break free from that anemic woman’s wardrobe choices. I’d rather don a cat collar than whatever that is around her neck. And who chose that poor man’s Big Bang background? It’s like a swirling cosmic soup where galaxies collide at the corner of Where Is His Belt and Please Button Your Cuffs. And let’s not forget the photographer, complicit in this atrocity, who allowed the female to wear her hair tucked behind those ears. What the what? I sure hope that kitty Rockette-highkicked its way out of that couple’s life.
I do not get it.