Raven, my lil bacon buttered biscuit,
I love you. Really I do. So I say this with all the kindness I can muster. DAWHUT DA HELL ARE YOU WEARING? Seriously, had my stylist tried to convince me to go on stage as a black Big Bird in biker boots, you would have heard that backslap around the world. Every last piece of clothing you have on (and you have on A LOT) is ill-fitting and just plain fug. But let's start at the top.
Your weave. It's atrocious. And the sleep mask as a fashion accessory? No, boo. Some things should be left in the boudoir. And not only is the atrocious black and red kinky mess of a wig washing you out, but you look not to be wearing a stitch of makeup. We all know how I feel about such matters. Un-for-givable. You are on stage for goodness sake, this is what they make stage makeup for! Hello! Are you listening, sweet pea?
As a representative of the curvy girls of the world, you have to be so careful with your fashion choices. Those lil size zeros may be able to get away with a feathered corset on top of a drapy tee on top of a tank on top of leggings, but you my love, cannot. Bulk is not your friend. And neither is your stylist. Or anyone else that you crossed paths with before taking the stage.
Let's just do like Alicia Keys and call this a lesson learned, yes?
Loving you long time, Elle
P.S. I like your boots. Just not on you.
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