Dear Mary-Kate Olsen,
I saw what you wore last night to the MoMA's Second Annual Film Benefit Honoring Tim Burton and I just wanted to say, we get it. All of it. You're different. There's no one like you. You are an individual. And to prove it, you've dedicated your life to dressing fugadocious. Don't get me wrong, your commitment to the bit is admirable. It's a good bit. But your point has been proven. You're not Sally Sue, you're not Tina Fletcher and you're definitely not Ashley Olsen. You are Mary Kate. For better or for worse.
I will say, I admire the work you do for the rescue organization you obviously work for. Without you, hundreds of thousands of dusty boots, Mrs. Roper glasses and shirts from "Big and Tall" would be without a home. Most of them might even wind up on that great big barrel bargain bin in the sky. You are so, so brave in your efforts to preserve fugly clothes from the past that otherwise might become extinct. So thank you Mary Kate, for your tireless service to the world. Without you, MAC might have to stop selling that "Dead for Days" foundation you love so much. I will truly sleep soundly tonight knowing that somewhere, somehow an applique Christmas sweater from the 1981 Jeanne Bice collection will survive and thrive another day. Here's to you Mary-Kate. Here's to you.
Oh, and by the way, in the words of the great poet lore Marky Mark, say hello to your mother for me:
I just couldn't resist. But at least I gave her arms and a little bit of decoration, right?