No prenup, no settlement

And so the Bennifer fever dream officially comes to a close.

The woman, the myth, the legend Katie Price on her way to court this week where her TikTok income got suspended.

Good morrow, my fine Messketeers!

I’m still a little bleary-eyed from staying out late celebrating my BFF’s wedding last night, so please bear with me as my brain boots back up again. I’m also in a much better mood than the last time you saw me. Apologies for the rage intermission.

I don’t want to jinx it, but I started jogging again after many, many years away from the treadmill. By which I mean I’ve run 2 miles exactly twice this week because I bought new sneakers (which I will be telling paid subs all about in Mess Recommends next month) and now I am committed to getting my money’s worth out of them. I’ve never been an outdoor runner, but I’m loving the excuse to get moving and get out of the house while also not spending any money. Because, as everyone knows, to go outside in NYC is to watch $100 mysteriously exit your bank account. I’ve also been doing these runs for the first time in my life without any music and, as nightmarish as that sounds, I swear it makes the whole thing go by faster?? I’ve been weirdly enjoying starting this new cardio routine, but it also isn’t lost on me that the whole thing is being seriously bolstered by the gorgeous fall breezes rolling in. I can already see this not being a sustainable hobby once the weather swings hard towards one extreme or the other. But whatever, for now I’m trying to just do it and not think about it too hard.

The last couple of weeks, my schedule has also suddenly been getting more hectic. I’ve gone from nothing to do to booked and busy. Of course, my definition of busy is having one thing I have to do every day, but still. One of those things was getting interviewed again this week on a non pubic hair related matter! My newfound industry expert status is really snowballing. Always thrilling for my deranged pop culture opinions to be considered, although tragic that mouthing off to traditional media full time doesn’t pay any bills. It did get me some nice shoutouts on Twitter though this week. I got tagged by a couple of readers in response to the dieworkwear guy’s tweet that said it “feels like professional writers no longer critique culture, they just report on what’s happening, but i wish i could get a bunch of fashion writers in a room and have them share with me their honest opinions about balenciaga.” Um, helloooo. It’s me. I am never not doling out my unsolicited thoughts on fashion. How much louder do I need to critique Balenciaga to Balenciaga’s face (hi guys) to be heard by the biggest menswear cognoscente on X! I appreciate all the Messketeers who made sure Derek was alerted to my and many other brilliant fashion critics’ existence. It’s an honor to share my honest, and honestly bad, opinions with you here every week.

In this week’s Sloppy Seconds, we talked JoJo Siwa’s drunk alter ego, Radical Rick, Alicia Silverstone poisoning herself with stolen berries, Bethenny Frankel’s Hamptons grocery store meltdown, JLo’s first sip of alcohol in her life, Sexyy Red’s gross-out lip gloss line, and the life-affirming rise of clown couture. Sign up to receive my thoughts on all of that if you’re keen.

Now, let’s dive in.

Ok, for starters, what the hell are we doing here, folks. It’s August, not April 1st. Everything about this new business venture from the Spanx lady boggles my mind. For example, this product took almost 10 years to make????! How! Why! They already made this shoe in 2003.¹ But back then, they cost like $35. I cannot imagine what about these Sneex could possibly warrant a $395 to $595 price tag. Proprietary sport stiletto technology, I’m sure. While the end product is obviously heinous in a pretty comical way, I think the basic business proposition is a perfectly reasonable one. Sneex wants to combine “the style of a traditional high heel with the performance and comfort of a sneaker,” and I’m sure there are people out there who want that to happen too. But my issue is why can we never seem to get this incredible comfort technology into a radically better looking package. This is my Oofos dilemma all over again. Like yes, my feet feel fantastic ensconced in these foam banana boats, but why to achieve that level of comfort do I have to capitulate to never wearing a good looking shoe ever again. There has got to be a middle ground here. Get someone with taste in the Sneex labs, I beg. I’ll even volunteer as tribute because I know in my heart there’s a better way to do this. Even if they just amped up the aughts pastiche of it all, I think they’d actually be more attractive to a Gen Z customer.

But beyond its appearance, what I really don’t like about this shoe is the way Blakely positions it as some sort of feminist solution to an age-old dilemma invented by men. Like Sneex isn’t also pushing that same gendered footwear agenda by promoting the idea that women must find some way to make heels comfortable to begin with. I don’t really believe the solution to this made-up female beauty standard is just a better constructed version of this made-up female beauty standard. The dream shouldn’t be making a less torturous version of a torture device. If you have to make a high heel “solv[ing] the major problems” associated with high heels like “lack of support, unequal weight distribution, and squeezing the toes,” that seems like a good sign to me that perhaps it’s time to reconsider the shoe entirely. Like maybe humans aren’t supposed to be walking around on their tiptoes all day to begin with……

Something else I’ve noticed this week is that celebs are getting kind of desperate, no? The obsession with trying to sell us a bunch of weird stuff we don’t need feels like it’s reaching a fever pitch. Like, obviously, celebs have always plugged junk and launched brands, but the pace has become absolutely relentless over the last several months. It feels like the wealth hoarders are attempting to hoard all of the wealth as fast as they possibly can, like they can sense the imminent implosion of this fanbase cash grab free-for-all. This was already a lingering thought I’ve had since at least Beyoncé’s Cécred launch in February, but I think Blake Lively promoting hers while doing interviews for a film about domestic violence really pushed it to the fore again. And then, this week, shortly after I learned that Beyoncé has now launched her own whiskey on top of everything else she does, including being one of most successful music artists of all time, I saw this photo of Salma Hayek posing up a storm with this (last season) Balenciaga bag on the red carpet like she’s one of Barker’s Beauties. Of course, both ads make perfect sense. Jay Z was a majority shareholder in D’Ussé before selling to Bacardi, so why not help his wife make a fortune the exact same way. And Salma is married to François-Henri Pinault, the CEO of the luxury conglomerate Kering, so she is never not promoting one of his brands. She’s just usually a little less flagrant about it. But both of these people are also billionaires whose great, great, great, great grandchildren will never need to work a day in their life. So why are we, the public, even involved in this advertorial conversation? I need all famous people to get a hobby that isn’t dependent on me bankrolling it ASAP.

And this is just to say: Never. ever. doubt my spon con spotting abilities. Some folks on Twitter were skeptical of my Sydney Sweeney callout only to be absolutely blown out of the water the very next day by the official confirmation that not only is she doing unmarked street style advertisements, but she’s also been hired as the official Hey Dudes global spokesperson. You better believe I know my spon!!!!! If anything, I am way too generous in my belief that anything I’m seeing on a famous person isn’t fully bought and paid for. Besides it’s not exactly hard to spot this particular #ad as I cannot imagine any famous adult woman choosing this slip-on of their own volition. How do Sydney’s feet simultaneously look twice as wide and half as long. Hey Dudes make Sneex look like a pair of Manolo Blahniks. The brand is also owned by Crocs which has infinite influencer seeding money and has been using it for a couple months now to convince all sorts of people to get photographed wearing these frat boy staples. Also, if you were a paid subscriber to this newsletter, you would’ve been able to spot this advertorial a mile away as you would already know that Sydney is currently deep in her paid placement era, wearing some extraordinarily unflattering garments in exchange for what is hopefully a very healthy chunk of change. If not, I would be looking into some sartorial defamation charges.

Like I said, we’re currently living in a big, wide world of secret #ads. It’s no wonder people have trouble trusting the media when every supposedly candid paparazzi photo features the most overt brand placement conceivable. I will say, at least with this image of Christian Serratos “grocery shopping,” Honey Bunches of Oats appears to have taken some of my incisive feedback to heart after their Ashley Tisdale snafu earlier this year. For one, they got the order of buying and unloading groceries correct this time, going bag, cart, car, instead of cart, bag, car like an alien pretending to be human. Giving Christian the exact same tote bag as Ashley feels like a rookie mistake, but it was probably still hanging around the warehouse from the last pap setup so they figured waste not, want not. But why a singular orchid plant to accompany this bounty of cereal? Why not, oh I don’t know, a bunch of mysteriously unbranded gallons of milk in that grocery cart’s second tier? HBoO is also still being super weird about how they’re stacking these boxes inside that bag. The prop remains extremely Donna Kelce for Ziploc. There has got to be a more natural way to position these so that the brand is visible without being so ridiculously conspicuous. I remain as stunned as ever at how difficult replicating reality seems to be for advertisers.

This, however, is a situation where I am thrilled that the brand is completely divorced from reality, ignoring all common sense, as well as food health and safety protocol. Derek Hough with a center console full of tuna sachets is precisely the style of spon I crave. I am obsessed with the mental image of these four bags of flaked fish turning full botulism Petri dish as the temperature rises in that parked car under the LA sun. Phenomenal snack marketing. And while I appreciate Derek looking out for my protein intake, I can’t explain it, but there’s also something vaguely threatening about a man rolling up with a car full of loose meat packets. But as I suggested back when Ashley did her cereal photo shoot, I think these brands should be going harder with the camp of it all. Their audience is way too media savvy at this point for stuff like this to fly under the radar, so why not just embrace that and ham it up to the max. Get a panini press and a fresh loaf of sourdough in that luxury vehicle so Derek can whip himself up a classic tuna melt on the run!

In happier marketing news, I wanted to take a moment to bless The Crow press tour for bestowing this FKA twigs fashion whirlwind upon us. I need her to be our new leading lady du jour because this is the perfect anecdote to Blake Lively’s recent barrage of floral costumery. A much needed red carpet palette cleanser. I am delighted that someone this weird now has the A-list platform to dress the way that she does. This is some real Björk business. It also made me realize that after the way Hollywood FashionNova-ized that Rick Owens prong dress, it’s so refreshing to see his work back on the type of person he’s always dressed and who can really pull off his freakier stuff. This feels like the answer to all of my laments that no one famous is dressing with an eye to the future. We need a vision beyond yet another Y2K encore and it seems like twigs could be the one to supply us with it. I appreciate the attention to detail, from how she styles her hair to what temporary tattoos she applies to her face. I also love the proportions of these Keebler elf stripper heels in the center. It feels like one of those big head Steve Madden ads come to life. She even gave Julia Fox a serious run for her money when they got dinner together (right), carrying a human hair clutch paired with a sheer booty short and G-string. A rare novelty in this nudity-saturated fashion landscape. Inspiring stuff!

Speaking of nudity saturated landscapes. It’s been too long since I checked in on our favorite wire fraudsters, the Clermont Twins, and upon doing so this week I was immediately made to regret my prolonged absence from their Instagram page. Because, as always, these two are weirdly some of the premiere innovators in the realm of scandalous dressing. I guess such is the nature of being shamelessly attention hungry. But I also think they’re very tapped in to fetish wear and the aesthetics of the adult entertainment industry which gives them an edge in the creation of these viral outrage bait outfits. In this case, wearing nothing but painted on clothing. And poorly painted, at that. But upon seeing this, it hit me like a ton of bricks that this is such an obvious baby step towards the final Mess boss of total red carpet exposure. Here I’ve been egging on famous people to bravely make the leap from a fully sheer gown to wearing nothing at all, when what they really needed was this controversial, yet relatively modest, half-step forward. Technically covered, and yet very much leaving it all hanging out. I can really see something like this on Cardi B while super pregnant at next year’s Grammys (done in a much more elevated way, obvs). And Balenciaga, since I’ve got your attention, when you try and sell a can of black paint as a DIY catsuit next season, I want my fat royalty check.

Someone I wish would catch up on the Clermont Twins’ latest is Kim who is in desperate need of the jump start to her wardrobe those girls could provide. She has clearly been plumb out of ideas for a hot minute. This week she did yet another Bianca homage in this Yeezy redux outfit and flip-flop heels. As I’ve explained before, the wrong move for so many reasons. But I’m actually not here today to complain about this woman’s fall from slutty fashion visionary to weak street style copycat. I’m here to complain about her hairstylist Chris Appleton and what he is getting up to on this poor woman’s head. This is nuts. How has he not been fired yet. Hairstylists across TikTok have already clocked him for very obviously damaging Kim’s real hair with bleach to the point of extreme breakage. I also think it’s pretty obvious in that other Censori lite Instagram shoot she did with the pink hair. And hence why Chris is giving her this exact same sopping wet hairstyle day in and day out trying to disguise the damage he hath wrought. Enough already! This looks bad! In fact, I think the only time it’s ever looked good is when she did it for the Camp Met Gala. It’s time for Kim to employ a new hair professional. But I have a sinking feeling she’s locked in for life now because Chris got quickie married and divorced to produce clickbait content for her flagging reality show. Personally, I think it’s high time for Kim to take a deep dive into Kylie’s wig closet.

And, in conclusion, I just want to say: Don’t you dare tease me like this, Hulu. Meryl Streep and Martin Short were posing together and holding hands at the premiere for Only Murders in the Building and I need this relationship to be real. I need to believe in true love again. If this turns out to be another goddamn showmance to promote this stupid show, I will riot. This is not a Glen Powell/Sydney Sweeney situation, this is SERIOUS BUSINESS. And if I find out otherwise, expect to see me at Hulu headquarters bright and early Monday morning with a serious bone to pick with you cretins. You cannot play with America’s heart fast and loose like this.

With that said. Please remember that if you didn’t like any of the many things I had to say here today, just:

All those who rise against me shall fall victim to a hairline like RHOSLC’s Meredith Marks above.

And as you move through the highs and lows of your week, until we meet again, please keep in mind these wise words from Alex Rodriguez who can’t stop posting subliminal messages to his ex on main amidst her divorce announcement:

That’s it for today. I’ll see you all again real, real soon! Toodles!

In brief:

• Celebrate your favorite laborer this Labor Day by becoming a paid subscriber to this newsletter and indulge in the crème de la crème of my red carpet curation.

• If there’s someone in your life who suffers from a severe dearth of celebrity fashion frights and horrors, why not bless them with a gift subscription and bring them up to speed on all the atrocities transpiring.

• If you’re waiting for the first of the month to indulge in such frivolities, allow me to recommend the I <3 Mess DISCORD in the meantime, where ~800 Messketteers have always got something snarky to say.

My offer still stands. If you can’t afford to pay for more, just ask me about getting a comped subscription. I promise, it’s no big deal. I do it all the time. And if you send over a screenshot of your donation to any abortion, bail fund, or Gaza relief fund, your next month of Mess is on me.

Have a fantastic weekend, you absolute champions!

1. It actually immediately reminded me of these velcro sneakers I owned in middle school, which after some googling I recalled were made by the brand Sugar. Do my fellow olds remember them??? Sugar was sold at the local skate shop in my town and I thought they were like THEE coolest brand in the world.