Domestic goddess
You know what it is about Nigella Lawson? The rack. This is a woman who was clearly designed by God to provide sustenance.* I mean, it would be a relief in any case to see this kind of female celeb–featured in British Vogue and known for being A-list glam–who does not force herself into the ubiquitous Malnutritia McGelboobs silhouette. Bonus points for having mastered the ability to wear clothes that showcase her curves without making her look like a $2-an-hour whore. (Could someone closer to LA and NY maybe remind the stylists of the developed world that fabric is supposed to cover people’s privates in public?)
Her hair approaches Jaclyn Smith levels of thick, lustrous gorgeousness, too–I bet chewing and swallowing food and then keeping it down long enough to absorb all the nutrients helps with that.
Good grief–girlfriend just came out in a silk bathrobe to rub oil into some kind of roast with her bare hands in the eerie midnight glow of a kitchen light. If I were a straight man or dyke, I’d be having a stroke right now.
Added on 21 August: Note to self: if you ever want a sudden increase in weekend traffic, find a way to get Kim to link you with a post about boobies. Good grief. I mean, in a good way. (And thanks, man.)
Nigella is a total goddess.
If she had red hair, I’d have a stroke every time I saw her on TV.
Good thing she’s a brunette, then–if you were having regular strokes, where would we get our rants? (Good one about the gender-identity police, BTW.)