Confession:
I'm totally cheating on Alessandra Ambrosio.
She was always my favorite (and isn't that sort of an American pastime anyway, picking your favorite Victoria's Secret model?)...she was The One Who Could Do No Wrong. I bought DOZENS of swimsuits over the years strictly because she looked so damn good in 'em I completely forgot they might (MIGHT!) not look "just like that" on me. Eh, I'm a fantastic consumer. I buy the fake image they're selling hook, line and credit card. The husband can verify how many bikinis I jammed into my luggage on the Greece honeymoon.
Then along came Miranda Kerr. Figures she's Australian (been there - the place is TEEMING with ridiculously well-dressed, ridiculously hot women. If Los Angeles and Paris got together and had a kid...that kid would look like a girl from Oz.). She looks like she's sixteen - dig that, since I look like I'm certifiably high-school ("we'd, like, totally get along!"). She's got those dimples...and perfect eyebrows...and she actually SMILES instead of smirks at the camera. She's perfect, I've decided. I'll even forgive the fact that she hooked up with that man-child "actor" Orlando Bloom instead of a proper man's man. She's perfect. I love her.
FHM did her justice this month. They read my mind. She IS my new favorite supermodel.
(doesn't mean she comes anywhere close to Megan Fox on the "Why Wasn't I Born Looking Like That?" pedestal, but hey, she's unseated Alessandra. That's something)
No comments:
Post a Comment