Dear Lady Gaga,
It’s been awhile since we touched base. (And no, that poke you never returned doesn’t count.) But watching you since then has been thrilling, and we say this sincerely since the last thing you need after that Vogue profile is more puffed-up compliments. But your presence as one to be stared at has been unfailingly awesome — until you arrived at the Grammys last night.
We love how you still run around without pants when you buy scarves at Gap-esque stores in Paris. We believe you are an especially commendably committed individual to do this when the temperature is around the freezing mark, and we actually don’t even find it that worrisome because we know that your priority in life is not to be comfortable, and you’ve come so far because of it. We love that journalists have still yet to find quite the right turns of phrase to describe your ever-elevating shoes. We at once love and don’t love that you can convince the masses that “dresses” made from meat are a thing of fashion. We love that you started hyping “Born This Way” with a unicorn. We love that we never know what to expect from you, in instances such as last night, when you arrived at the Grammys being carried in an egg.
Related: See All the Looks From the 2011 Grammys Red Carpet [Vulture]
