TheBaronOfFratton

Backstage, Stella McCartney:

Just a little saucy one I found:

...And why visit AlbaForEver's "Bunnies" thread anymore? WE HAVE OUR OWN BUNNIES HERE!!!

*SIGH* Perhaps you are right - but way to be a killjoy! <_< Anyway, I want pictures - not putdowns. Or at least some conundrums... As the ringmaster here, riddle me this - lovely angel (et al): WILL YOUR ANSWER TO THIS QUESTION BE NO?

WELCOME TO THE PHANTASMAGORICAL ODDITORIUM!!! - The circus of the surreal: This is a thread for the photos and art of the uncanny. Please post your bizzare best. Whether it be the UNEXPLAINED: The UNBELIEVABLE: Arresting ART: Or the just plain ODD: I want this to be a haven of hoodoo and mischief. An unsettling and peculiar Big-Top. Any perplexing pictures, or puzzling paradoxes welcomed. :evil: This carnival is shuttered for those wary and cynical eyes - but if you are intrigued; if curiosity becomes you then please come in, marvel, and upload the uncanny. If it is not to your taste - then simply NEVER return, no negativity please. Otherwise ENJOY! I'm off to get a hot-dog...

"LAIS" by Roger Deckker and one for luck... Muy bonita

Hola chica! Are you after photos inspired by the Indian sub-continent - or the "far-east"? If it is the latter you should check out this year's Pirelli calendar...

^^Yes - Exactly like he said^^ But to get the full effect you need to see Frankie Rayder and Carmen Kass's faces... Like fishwives!!! Ah, Ana - at her beguiling best. One of my favourites from 2005 too. All lissom limbs and her seductive nonchalance... But this, well is simply sublime:

'Tis but a ripple in the ocean compared to your tsunami of strange images! Never ebb, my persipicacious penny...

GODSPEED, Photographer: Horst Diekgerdes, AnOther Magazine autumn/winter 2007

The sophisticated Ms. Moore: (Source: AnOther Magazine, autumn/winter 2007)

Well, as for me - and I suspect many others - I'm interested in finding out all about her 'acting' abilities... This is my first visit to this thread, and I'd never come across her before. She has certain 'Bond-esque' charms to be sure, but: Is she a Halle Berry (Y), or a Denise Richards (N) ? I'm off to rent "Hitman"...

Yes, and once she'd gone, they started to comment on Gisele's "assets" like a couple of bitchy old hags puffing on their ciggies!!!

Well then you're wrong !!!

Didn't realize Lais was without a thread, how utterly neglectful. Forshame! Thanks for correcting this sweetspice. These are from a lovely little shoot she did in Buenos Aires for the "Complot" Invierno 2006 campaign: Y mi favorito: Think I might have some backstage from this somewhere too...

As Madame Penny knows, I have been perusing this thread with gusto since it's inception. However, I've never had cause to post to it, principally because I could never find anything that passed muster. And I know it's been posted before (though not on this thread); but 'Tis the season, and I believe whatever your persuasion, your allegiance, your beliefs you can't go wrong with this: Seasons Greetings

Beware, if you are of that persuasion, because I may wax lyrical... It was 1990, I believe. And those Supermodels were beginning their vice-like grip on the media and - in turn - the hearts and minds and nether-regions of many a boy. For I was not yet a man, and wondering which of these amazons would be the one to claim me - after those barren years of 'tomboyish' soap stars and rather dull cardboard cut-out songstrels. I remember, that glorious summer, Claudia Schiffer was the 'de rigeur' choice of my amigos. I mean no disrespect to blondes, but teenage boys can be SO unimaginative... And there - ah, like so many have professed on this thread - there she was on the beach in the "Wicked Game" video. Who was this lady? This gypsy girl of my myriad furtive dreams, who had banged tambourines and lamented forlornly and twirled in vivid colours until dawn? Here she was made flesh. Of emerald eyes and caramel thighs, and a smile that hinted of carnal delight. Helena - betwixt the exotic sensuality of Peru, and the austere innate coolness of Denmark. Strutting in Versace. Oscillating wildly. Yes, it would be her. And so she soon festooned my bedroom wall. That photograph of her in the metallic bikini. And then she met Michael Hutchence. Perfection. For there we were, picking up instruments with beliefs of global domination - or rather more prosaically - meeting girls. And Hutchence was like a sexual behemoth to us, an aspiration. I was growing my hair and perfecting some sort of stage presence, we all were. And HE'D GOT HELENA!!! Perchance we could follow in such shadows... Soon I was in a band. And soon the girls took notice. And I met my first girlfriend. An inappropriate, vacuous sort, according to my Mother (who has so often been proved correct in such matters). And bearing more than a passing resemblance to my muse. But oh, that is a whole other story. And an unfortunate template for ladies that I've taken many unsuccessful pains to stray from. Then, later, the goddess morphed into this bohemian wonder. A quirky, interesting free-spirit - collecting antiques and having by far the coolest abode in Copenhagen. She was the perfect girlfriend; she became the perfect wife. There is nothing 'still' sexy about her. She simply is. "Age is something that doesn't matter, unless you are a cheese." The lady IS sexy. I was lucky enough to meet her 3 or 4 years ago, and she shone as ever. She was breathtaking. And she smelled of violets and black pepper - Intoxicating. But woe is me, for I froze. As you may surmise, I'm not one to be lost for words, but there - in her presence - I simply stopped functioning. It was more than tongue-tied. I shook. She smiled, gracefully, and took my hand - my quivering, sweaty hand... And then she was gone. And of course, all the things I should have said came flooding back with limitless abandon. Oh, how witty, how adroit I nearly was! Then, yes then she would have seen that me - the one that would have rendered her smitten. The one that would have seen me ensconced in her heart and her Copenhagen home. Perhaps next time. They say it does no good to meet our heroes, that we are always left wanting. Certainly I've kept my composure before in the presence of fame - dubious and warranted. With Helena it was different. For it harked back to an awakening. I'd had crushes of course. Strange desires. (My first being Daphne from 'Scooby-Doo', leaving me with a unquenchable desire for redheads - again, another tawdry story!) Though this was full on hormonal pubescent desire. Maybe it was that acknowledgment of lust - maybe I was simply ashamed? I am sure I blushed. Maybe she guessed... Anyway, forgive my purple prose. Just remember to calm yourself, lest it happen to you. And just simply admire.

I wish that for just one time You could stand inside my shoes And just for that one moment I could be you Yes, I wish that for just one time You could stand inside my shoes You'd know what a drag it is To see you Dylan - Positively 4th Street A perfect kiss-off

Shhhh! Let us talk quietly about such things - lest we jinx SI too...