I've always been a fan of Steven Meisel, but upon seeingthe January 2008 issue of Italian Vogue, I became a disciple. His work floors me. As someone who has trudged through more than five years of dank new-age muck pretending to be golden sunlight, it is a breath of fresh night blooming jasmine to see something so beautiful and fashion rich. I work in an herb shop that caters to people who wear navy blue socks with black Tevas, acid wash jeans and recycled fleece vests over t-shirts that say things like "Save The Wolves". I dream daily of running over these colorblind and humorless hippies with my shiny black German sedan as the Blaupunkt blares Mozart's Requiem Mass in D Minor.
Go and stuff your hemp, you hippie scum. Give me velvet or give me death!
Eis ist wahrend der Sommerzeit begehrt!
Alright, enough of my rant, I shall put my sharp teeth back in their gummy cage and get back to Mr. Meisel...