First, it was last year's ridiculous spread with Debbie McFrizz. And now this. And this one isn't in the October or November issues. Nah. This profile is in the mother of all Vogue issues - the September issue.
Yep. The almost-three-inch-thick, once-favorite-of-mine Fall fashion issue.
If you go to the source link and actually read the very informative and left-leaning, praiseworthy article about how adorably "petite" Wendy Davis is, you'll get to learn ALL about her Seven for All Mankind jeans (those are the kind of jeans the poor chicks buy, right liberal feminists?), the "inconceivable number of products she collects to tame" her naturally frizzy (and naturally very brunette, by the way) hair..." and the fact that she's "happy in Lululemon, with a glass of red wine, watching HGTV...” (again...yoga pants you can't buy at your local Wal-Mart, but I digress).
And after all of that crucial stuff about her, you'll of course learn about the inevitable push for her to run for governor of Texas, which is what Vogue does these days. They dabble in Democrat political campaigning, of course.
Wearing pink Mizuno running shoes and a sky-blue Escada day coat concealing a back brace, the 50-year-old runner and cyclist held the floor for a twelve-hour filibuster that packed the rotunda with pro-choice defenders and had the nation biting its collective nails as coverage streamed online and the clock ticked down to midnight. In those hours, Davis’s Facebook likes spiked. The hashtag #StandWithWendy began trending as high as some 125,000 tweets per hour. Barack Obama used it. Lena Dunham tweeted her support. John Oliver made a joke about a new line of shoes, the Fila-busters, the next night on The Daily Show.
After more than thirteen years in public office, Senator Wendy Davis had become an overnight sensation—and speculation about whether she might run for Texas governor immediately began making the rounds.
I saw the September Vogue at my local checkout line last night (coincidentally, it was at Wal-Mart, getting necessities for a sick toddler), and I didn't buy it.
It was the first time in I-don't-know-how-many-years that I didn't buy a September Vogue, y'all. And I won't lie - it was a little weird, but I just couldn't do it. Because it felt wrong to do so.
You see, Vogue isn't about fashion anymore...it's become what every other liberal lamestream media outlet in this country has become - a pawn for the left. A sell-out. An agenda-driven puppet. A freaking joke.
What a waste.
But this is how the left wins. This is how they do it. They use Photoshopped pictures and their puppets in fashion magazines to craft a narrative that they weave into the fabric of America's mainstream culture - it's all done very methodically and with great calculation in preparation for the next big election. And the lemmings eat it up like candy.
Never mind that Davis has no idea what went on in Gosnell's clinic. Never mind that most people in this country are against late-term abortions. Never mind the issues and the facts and the stuff that isn't Vogue-ified.
Because she's, like, totally wearing Carolina Herrerra, everyone - OMG!