Below is a very insightful highlight of the article.
Finally, there's Tommy Hilfiger himself. What a mincing little hose-bag he
is! Jesus. Who thought we would want to watch this sniffling, egomaniacal
fussbudget attack a bunch of glum, ineffectual oddballs, as ineffectual as they
may be? Hilfiger is mean, and he's not mean in that "How entertainingly
sociopathic!" way that Dennis Rodman or Richard Hatch is, nor is he mean in that
"How delightfully archaic and hierarchical!" way that Donald Trump is, nor is he
mean in that "What a terribly self-involved diva" way that Tyra Banks or Jerry
Hall is.
The man has no flair. He talks about style with a haughty sniff in
his tone, yet he looks about as stylish as a high school principal. He seems to
have no sense of humor, and takes himself exceedingly seriously. Worst of all,
he's to blame for some of the ugliest clothing on the planet, yet instead of
stringing him up like a wild boar, we're listening to him whine unconvincingly
about originality and vision. Originality, vision? How about we just make
everything red, white and blue and use stuffy nautical themes and put our name
across the front in 95-point Helvetica instead?
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