Worst bakery, Worst film
Anorexic girls eat cakes made of butter.
There is a revolting bakery in the lower east side, which creates the most sickening cakes, obscenely loaded with butter and cream and sugar, and attracts a long line of tittering girls in pastel floral dresses and fat-thin guys with coloured spiky hair. (amendment, I have just found out the bakery is the famous one that the whores of Sex in the City stuff their ugly horse faces in, so go figure)
Don’t get me wrong, I like a cupcake as much as anyone. I have a friend who makes cakebaking an artform. Her cupcakes for my wedding were gorgeous, gorgeous I tell you! But something about this particular place made me feel sick. Sickened. As simpering stick thin lopsided creatures with large heads loaded up boxes full of pastel pink and blue cakes, I could almost smell them throwing up later through the oily slick of the butter and snort of icing sugar.
Same feeling when I saw Marie Antoinette. A vacuous flaccid little confection, created by the vapid bore Sofia Coppola. No story, no dialogue, no direction, just costumes, cakes, small dogs. I’ve watched it twice now to see if I missed anything, but no, it’s still crappy sugary pap. The film needed blood on the cupakes to mean anything, but we are denied a good beheading.
Why is Sofia Coppola allowed to make films again?