Feeling poorly because you’ve got a new grey hair? Maybe your first? Maybe your forty-fifteenth? Whatever. You’re still sexy. Trust us.
Sarah: Yes, he’s farted a butterfly and a gull is about to pluck out her velvet chains, but the real point of order on this cover is that her hair has absorbed the dye from her dress to the point where the poor chit has seafoam green hair. Now THAT is color coordination.
Candy: How very forward-looking of her to dye her hair the same color her skin would be after a raging bout of yellow fever fought concurrently with seasickness. It’s the ultimate in color-coordination.
Sarah:Discarded titles for this book include Trannysong, Crossdressingsong and Gee that bow doesn’t look gay in the least song.
Candy: Oh, hey, the woman with the hair like an unwound Q-tip shows up again! Good for her. Last time we saw her, she was rockin’ the casbah on Silver Angel—a cover so good, it gets to be snarked twice.
Sarah: This is one of my favorite old-skool covers. I can’t even remember if I’ve read the book. But wow, the majesty of that My Little Pony-esque “Grandma exploded!” hair is just the cap on the trifecta of awesome when joined with the purple eyeshadow and the megamullet.
Candy: Oh yes. The mane of hair is every bit as mesmerizing as it ever has been. The more I look at it, the more I think it’s moving. The question is: what’s it trying to do? My best guess is that it’s still instinctively trying to break holes in the polar ice in search of baby seals for a tasty little snack, even though it’s thousands of miles away from any frozen precipitation.