They charged across the street to Bloomingdale’s where the customers, who had already spent some time under the powerful mind-controlling effects of Cosabella thongs and the inimitable Nars makeup counter, were considerably more tolerant of this new demon presence. “Donna Karan! Garrr!” shouted one wee zombie, whose love of DKNY hosiery had clearly not declined even after a throat-slashing. “Moisturizer … Need moisturizer!” howled another zombie, hoping his rotting flesh was not too far gone for a little Kiehl’s. The zombies headed towards Fifth. “Smell the horse poop in front of Citibank!” one observed.
Zombies Invade Bloomingdales
Plus: Style tips from the undead (Village Voice, via Robot Wisdom)
Sorry, the comment form is closed at this time.