Everybody Loves An Heiress

Daphne Guinness (Scorpio) needs a sandwich no doubt but she sure can make those 82 pounds of hers look fatty.

Recently BabySkinGlove took a little field trip to our alma mother FIT to peep the closet of one of our favorite beer babies. After a few backwards coats and a dozen non-faux costume jewels we weren't even trying to steal anything.

The most wonderful thing about Daphne's closet was that it actually felt like Daphne's closet- lots of mirrors, flattering lighting, shoes covered in bruises with ample inspir8ion to go around and around in our little assassinating heads. You could smell the hobnobbing amongst the plastic capes and armor.

We highly recommend you either go see Daphne's toys, seance Isabella, or at the very least attempt a plastic cape of your own.

Also stay tuned 4 our red carpet screening of her python fetishizing ^^^

Løøk Øut LA

Even without little miss purple pack we're hustlin to fit all our trends in one bag! Watch out west coast because the entire puppy pile is about 2 invade and we're bringing faasionz mega with us. We're covering all the bases including eyes,,,, panties,,,,, and lips (top&bottom) !!!

It's girlboys vs. boygirls this trip as the 70s flows battle the 50s leather trims. We're going group this time with puppy punch hacksaws galore. You won't even know whose foam is whose anymore!

Don't let the colour scheme fool you, the petal pushers are just as willing to climb in2 the dollar bin as the bulldykes. Let's hope we can get all of our hair past security...

I'm gonna be faithful to my Bette's and my Gretta's so long as I can fit the curlers in the bead bags and vice versa. See you on the flip side fatties! xxxbsg

Fly Lashings

You know how summa times you get those lashes in your eye that just won't come out no matter how much you rub and rub and rub and rub and before long you look like a 14 year old who hangs out at the mall with one eye all swelled up like racecar red . . . now imagine that happening when you go fascionz and have fly legs hanging off your little lids and I don't mean Will Smith fly, I mean Lord of the. What do we do on a rainy day? We kill all those little buggers bugging around VillaVulvaDiva, cut off their legs and glue them to our faces. It's hard being this productivity.

(kreditz)

4 USA

(moment of silence)

Isn't it funny that just one night ago amidst a sea of carpet scraps and skin-flaked glue all us fifteen fatties, our fifteen boy pets, and the fifteen cats snuggled down on the duchesse brisée to watch Leigh Bowery in all of his glory past and then yesterday morning as we rose around six with proper sun salutations on the melted snow stoop we learned of the gr8 loss the art world has faced with the death of the very fabulous Alexander McQueen. We hope he's looking up at us from that f8ful fiery inferno rolling his tongue around all of his teeth sipping champagne from a gold bottle, nibbling bonbon's from MJ's buttoned belly, and getting the hj of his dreams from Miss Monroe. Surrounded by candles and homemade capes, the BSG vigil was nothing less than holy and nothing short of devout. We also recorded him a short ditty and as soon as the producer gives us the okay, we'll be releasing a pretty sin slurping mix tape for you so get those Sony recorders ready. May he rest in peace and may we someday be blessed with the gr8 privilege of wearing a McQueen cape made of clouds and some lederhosen made of fire with him, MJ, and Miss Monroe.