Can’t Beyonce leave a blogger lady well enough alone on a Wednesday afternoon? Some of us are just sitting here in our cubicle trying to get by, and you have to go putting your glorious underbreast into our pale and puffy faces, glowing faintly under the fluorescent lights? Was that really necessary? To be fair, Bey didn’t release this image herself, so I guess I can’t really blame her. I can blame whichever Mister Mister with a camera phone at the GQ offices took this picture and then leaked it to the world. [UPDATE: Welp, it looks like while I was writing this, the official version got out too, so it's all over now. Her thighs look even better in this one. Sigh.]
But whoever’s fault it is, I’m looking at it now, and so I shall discuss it. That is some tantalizing underboob. It’s actually kind of unfair, because when you think about it, eleven out of ten guys would prefer to see Beyonce’s underboob to your overboob. Or regular boob. Or side boob. Or whateverboob. I’d go so far as to say that you could even add a little bit of nip to the equation, and Queen B would still win out. And that, my friends, is depressing.
HOWEVER. At least I know better than to go sashaying around the covers of magazine in half a shirt, zippered booty shorts, and a belly chain. I only wear these kinds of outfits to a dream slumber party on laundry day. (And boy are they a hit!) But if you’re wearing that in real life, it pretty strongly signals your intention to play half a baseball game, leave early to get to your pole dancing debut (you can bring the false eyelashes in your pockets!), and then throw on a piece of belly jewelry to dress it up for an evening at Blue Ivy’s dance recital.
It’s an all-purpose outfit…as long as your purpose is to give me these strange conflicting stomach feelings at work. IT’S WORKING.