V. Stiviano is clearly not the brightest bulb in the box, the sharpest tool in the shed, nor the trendiest fashion plate on the table.
Donald Duck T-shirt and high top sneakers. . . Really, V? With all that money you’ve slept with, why not a little bling for the paparazzi when you first emerged from your den? Imagine my surprise to find that her full face visor is the latest craze for slaves to celebrity fashion.
Settle down, I can say “slaves to celebrity fashion.” Their master is an industry, not a racist sports team owner. The slaves are voluntary and come in all colors, just like V’s visors. Fashion is an equal opportunity master of the masses. Some people are paying up to $30 to imitate Sterling’s slutty darling. Visors are flying off the shelves in record number. And I don’t get it, they look so stupid, unless you’re protecting your face from bugs or UV rays while engaging in a sport, or you’re a welder bent on coordinating your mask with your overalls.
Guess what, V? They don’t make you invisible, inconspicuous, invincible or even one of the “in” crowd. They make you look like a stupid woman guilty of stupid, shameful acts of large proportions, no matter what cool metallic glow radiates from the surface, or how well they accessorize your outfit.
Hat tip: Style.com
No doubt you’ve seen photographs of her donning the accessory out and about in L.A. following the scandal in which Sterling forbade her from publicizing her friendships with black people. In a recent interview with Barbara Walters, Stiviano conceded that the full-face visors, which she owns in a myriad of hues, make it “easier to mask the pain.” Fair enough. And it’s not as though she’s the first visible public figure to hide behind headgear—you’d be hard-pressed to find a celebrity, mid-scandal or not, who hasn’t shielded themselves from prying eyes via giant sunglasses, wide-brimmed hats, hooded sweatshirts, or the like. But visage-enveloping visors are indeed an extreme.
“In the past, wearing things like visors or veils was more out of modesty, or maybe a sense of propriety,” explained The Museum at FIT’s associate curator of accessories, Colleen Hill. She cites the large-brimmed “poke” bonnets of the 1830s as an example. “In my opinion, they were an item of propriety. Not only did they shield the woman’s face from the sun, but they also provided a sense of security,” she told Style.com. “Today, [something like a visor], for celebrities in particular, acts as a psychological veil.
Who chooses to wear a “psychological veil”? A psychologically unstable, poor excuse of a woman at the center of a paparazzi feeding frenzy during her 15 minutes of fame. That’s who.
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