In my head, you and I are pals. And I think everyone at The Gloss tends to write only nice things about you. First, because you seem like you get a lot of flack for working hard, which is puzzling, and second, because one day, some of us might like to work at a magazine, or in an office without a sizable rodent problem, so this just seems like common sense. Seriously, we think you’re fantastic. We named one of the mice after you.
But Anna, we’re confused. Confused by this outfit you wore in 1992.
We’re confused because we generally think of Vogue as the kind of warm-and-jolly place that is so fashionable that we would not survive there for five minutes. We did not know that Vogue was a spaceship. A spaceship that provides nipple-revealing gold lame uniforms.
When people call you “Nuclear Wintour” we always thought it was because of your level of British sang-froid. Is it instead because you are a time traveler who came back from a post-nuclear future? A future where everyone dresses like this? We didn’t know that the future would so closely resemble low-budget science fiction movies from the 1970’s.
The jewels in this also appear to be alien space rocks. What planet are they from? Is it warm-and-jolly there?
We’re heading off to get some skorts and gold chains now.