Dear Park Cities People,
I have not felt a devastating void so profound since my dear, sweet Grandmamma Antoinette Abthernabther was eaten alive by mountain lions while vacationing in Yellowstone Park.
Where would we be without Dallas' International Fashion Week? And when I say "we" I of course mean "they," as you and I are obviously well informed fashionista who do not require any additional style coaching outside of a monthly excursion to Milan or Manhattan or Milwaukee to caress textiles, sip ridiculously priced white wine for breakfast and parade about in masochistic footwear until our toenails callous over. But what of the others - the Great Unwashed Masses - where will they glean some semblance of chic if not at Fashion Week?
It is not like our fair burg of Dallas is rife with salons and boutiques. It is not as if a full third of all glossy periodicals currently published solely concern themselves with matters of fashion and its deliciously inane discourse. Then where, how, when will those less stylishly fortunate than I finally be free to experience what the world of fashion holds? If not for a full week, perhaps for a weekend, or a day, or over a light brunch?
Also, why are poor people so systematically revolting?