Well we haven't seen this queen for a while...

...well at least around these parts.

La Ciccone has been busy selling extortionately priced concert tickets all over Europe (of which we own two), partying in West Hollywood for the Oscars, and not doing much else at all. Attire wise, we've seen some grotesque and beautiful delights from Madolla over the past few months.

Most recently, bitch turned up to the Vanity Fair Post-Oscars Party wearing her Christian Lacroix "Vogue" corset from the Re Invention Tour underneath some fabric she made Lola get from the funeral home opposite her school. Views were mixed; some applauded the outfit, we didn't. She can do better. However, her facial vicinity and the hairy bit of skin on top of her sacred cranium were positively GLOWING. I swear to mother Mary herself, she has to have a pact with Lucifier. She's just getting bloody younger!


Here is Madonna with her first husband, Sean Ballpointpenn. One of my favourite tales of our mistress' most illustrious life has to be the time when Mr. Penn punched a wall in the apartment he shared with M-Dolla with such anger at the fact that she was supposedly having it off with our favourite lavender pop star Prince (she probably was) that after he stormed off to punch a paparazzo, M-doleeza Rice rang up His Purple Rainness and asked him to come round and fix the wall. Cuz it was his fault. So fyerce. He probably sent some crying doves round to do the dirty work for him.

Anyway, apparently Penny was a rudeboy to M-ariah at the Vanity Fair party after she congratulated on his Oscar win as massive gayer Harvey Milk. Some off-hand comment about the fact she is fucking someone half his age. Pretty uncalled for we reckonz! Hilair though. "Another child already?" I bet Madonnathon twatted Jesus in the nose for not defending her, thereby ruining his modelling career. I would have.

We were also vastly impressed with M's third photoshoot with Steven Klein for W Magazine, aptly named "Blame it on Rio". Not really apt, but it sounded more important if I used the word. The storyline goes something like a fifty year old, aging socialite/vampire queen is surrounded by beautiful young men to feed her ferocious ego. Art imitating life, lololol! Srsly though, fucking fierce clothing from the likes of Victoria Beckham (amaze), D&G (meh) and plenty of vintage shit. Wanna see?


Lots of lace and crucifixes. Hints of Lucky Star, more like Lucky Black Hole. Loving it. Particularly aesthetically pleasing is the one where you are peeping through a whole in the wall like a dirty perv, SO ARTY.

That's it really in the world of the best woman in the universe.
I wonder what she's doing right now..


IF SHE'S READING THIS BLOG I WILL SHIT MYSELF.