On My Worst Day…

at least I am not, nor will I ever be, this woman.

Let’s read some of the priceless prose of Ms. Robin Givhan, shall we?

I believe she was trying to begin her article in media res, but to me, she is simply maundering – in a fashion even Andy Rooney would find excessive.

The mind, so easily distracted by things mauve and lemon yellow, strays from more pressing concerns to ponder the sartorial: How many pantsuits does Hillary Clinton have in her closet? And does she ever wear them in the same combination more than once?

I would comment on this, but I just saw some bright shiny colors….lalalalalalala….

Whew, I’m back! Here’s some more of Ms. Givhan’s unique insight into Senator Clinton’s sartorial strategy:

The pantsuit is Clinton’s uniform. Hers is a mix-and-match world, a grown-up land of Garanimals: black pants with gray jacket, tan jacket with black pants, tan jacket with tan pants. There are a host of reasons to explain Clinton’s attachment to pantsuits. They are comfortable. They can be flattering, although not when the jacket hem aligns with the widest part of the hips (hypothetically speaking, of course). Does she even have hips?

Now that is some fantastic stuff. First, the writer infantilizes the Senator by saying she wears Garanimals. And in drab colors, yet – she’s so unwomanly, she can’t even match tan and tan! (Never mind that Ms. Givhan was just fulminating about the Senator’s overly bright colors three sentences before.) The piece de resistance is the last two sentences, though. Her pantsuits are cut unflatteringly over Hillary’s hips, which apparently she doesn’t have! Dizzyingly brilliant!

Could it get better/worse? Why yes. Yes it could.

And because Clinton seems to prefer crossing her legs at the ankle — in the way girls were taught when girls were still sent to finishing school — there is less likelihood of any embarrassing straight-to-YouTube video.

Let’s not even talk about the fact that these three paragraphs don’t seem to be linked, although they follow each other directly in the “article.” Help me out with what she is trying to say. Is there something wrong with making sure that your crotch is not plastered all over YouTube? I mean, not that Hillary has one anyone would want to look at, since she’s hardly even a woman, and besides which, she’s fricking old as the hills, mmmmmkay? Ewwwwwww, how can Bill sleep with a Garanimal-wearing, pants-loving, colorblind, hipless, ancient crone like Hillary?

I really don’t know how a person like this looks at herself in the mirror. Maybe she’s got one that tells her she’s the fairest in the land, like in “Snow White.” But to me, she’s a misogynistic, sad, jealous woman who would give anything to be in Hillary’s sensible shoes.

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3 responses to “On My Worst Day…

  1. Southern Beale

    I had the same horror as you. As did Digby. And Hecate.

    I think women on the blogosphere just saw that and recoiled in horror.

    My favorite was “Clinton-the-human-color-wheel” .. a priceless piece of anti-woman wankery.

    Hell, I don’t even like Hillary but come on, at least I don’t like her because of her positions and her performance, not because of her pantsuits.

  2. I really hate the fact that women like this are given a large audience, and they use it only to demonstrate their misogyny. If only she used her powers for good, and not eeeeeeviiiiilllll!

    You can attack Hillary on the issues if you want, but stop insinuating that she’s not really a woman. It’s truly disgusting.

  3. wouldn’t “not really a woman” be a good thing? i get so confused.

    nice post. you too, southern beale.