Reader Anjanie caught her local Forever 21 mannequins dropping it like it was ever so hot this week.
I have to admit, it looks less like dancing and more like someone in a line outside a Hollywood club who dropped their birth control pill on the sidewalk and is trying to pinch it off the curb between their press on nails.
Forever 21, Ohh, girl, no.
I’ve always been a little afraid of mannequins. Their off kilter wigs and wooden skin tone. The fact that they come apart at the limbs, neck and waistline. And the worst, their fabricated stares and bizarre, contorted poses.
Not all display dolls are created equally. They range from the eerily attractive to the freakishly formed, with faceless, colorless and hairless mannequins landing right on the top of the goosebumps inducing heap.
Like this trio of lacquered idiots.
Instead of striking shoppers as interesting and avant-garde, these mannequins simply look like over-zealous, soft headed lunatics whose handlers dressed them in the dark and pushed into the road to direct traffic.
If only merciful tragedy (or a large truck) would strike.
Forever 21, Why do you Insist on Scaring People with your Life Size No Face Dolls?
Buy the spots of the Great Leopard King Kentay, what do I behold here?!
$8.50? $8.50 and up? They’re only going to charge me a starting price of $8.50 to look this stupid from the ankles down?
How DO they stay in business?
Forever 21, Putting Out the Bargain Vibe. Hard.
Last night was a WTFest of epic proportions.
The Forever 21 at the Glendale, CA Americana threw a shindig to celebrate the arrival of Petro Zillia’s new line, exclusive to the retailer, and when I say that the clothes were tasteful, well made and appropriate for women of all ages I am FUCKING LYING.