Repeller or Propeller, the Sequel
Bonjour mankind, I’m back in New York even if but for 48 hours and ready to continue tackling existential concerns and great debates. Today in just that: another riveting round of Repeller or Propeller. I’m often asked if continuing to abide by the rules of man-repelling can still apply in a more formal capacity and to that I repeat my mantra, folks: if it’s look like a vagina, it’s probably couture. And when I say couture, I mean fancy business. Sorry, bizznass. So, yes. The answer is yes. But that’s not all: here we have something less about labial dressing, more about perhaps embracing the prospect of semi-repellingin a look that eloquently abominates the lower half of your body and leaves nothing to the imagination up above.
Ultimately, I’d dubbed this look a Repeller not necessarily based on the excess lace fabric that creates a high waist harem effect down below but more on the prospect that as aforementioned, nothing is left to the imagination: not an inkling of how you say, cleavage. My tatas really are that small. Unfortunately, I wasn’t offered the good graces to wear this jumpsuit sans lining and so no bare-ass celebrating a la Leighton was had. I did, however, have a massively hard time using the bathroom and while you may not see it here, the camel-toe sequel song opportunities brought forth by my nether regions were great, huge even. What do you say though: repeller? Propeller? Neither? Tell me, I have to know…and should you feel so inclined, send in a photo of yourself fighting a similar debacle. The psycos that repel together, stay together.