Clearly you can see I have a serious agenda. I’m on a cover-up mission. To be perfectly honest, I don’t know why I care.
Maybe it’s more a revolt against revolting reality TV where, let’s be honest, far more than flesh is bared for all the world to witness and perhaps that aspect of the phenomenon is even more disturbing.
I couldn’t resist showing you more beautiful women from the Cannes Film Festival who decided that their choice of dresses (or in the case of Charlize Theron, a sleekly chic Dior couture tuxedo) could be more instead of less and at the same time prove the cameras kept clicking.
I do understand the Red Carpet argument that shock and awe are promotional “look at me,” tactics and that the photographers fall over over each other trying to get different angles of the “how in the world does that dress stay in place and is she wearing any underwear?” on Bella Hadid.
I rest my case. . . I think I’m finished with my mini rant, this one at least.