Dearest Lucy Liu,
I’m pretty sure that Patricia Field is just fucking with you. I know you are the focal point of the new, very fash-ant-garde TV show Cashmere Mafia now, which means that you have to assume fashism icon status and gallivant around town wearing wild (ugly) shit and telling reporters in knowledgeable tones: “Oh god, I love young and independent designers. Zac Poseur really just knows a woman’s body.”
But here’s the lowdown, and this is hard for me because I truly think you’re lovely and talented (you are so pretty, so pretty. My dog and her dad rode in an elevator with you two months ago and raved about your skin. This is true!): I really, truly-ooly don’t believe Mafia is going to take off. This show will be a bigger bomb than your lesbian vampire movie. I do think Field has lost her touch–and if she does in fact still have a touch, she’s fingering New Line’s Sex and the City movie, not your little “tv show.”
I’m sorry. Saying such things is hard for me. But to be frank, I really just don’t want you toting ugly gold bags while wearing black opera gloves anymore. You don’t deserve it and we will both regret it. I already do.
hugs and kisses,
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