Mama Ciccone Wants Equal Pay for Equal Work

Mama: But Little Nonni, these conditions you have me working in are unsuitable for the mama of the Material Girl.

Madonna: Quiet woman! Keep sewing. My see-through culottes will be the hit of the tonight's premiere! Who'll be causing a commotion? Madonna! Just wait until Karl Lagerfeld sees me. He'll be sorry he's been musing it up with that stupid, young Blake Lively.

Mama: But Little Nonni!

Madonna: Little Nonni is no more. I am Madonna. JUST Madonna. It's even on my driver's license.

Mama: Do not forget, my Little Nonni, that I am the original Madonna. It's on my driver's license, too. Before you had it taken away, that is.

Madonna: What reason do you have to drive? When was the last time I allowed you to leave your shed?

Mama: You know perfectly well you took away my license when I tried to escape to La Isla Bonita back in '94.

Madonna: Mama, don't preach. You can never escape me, nor my enigmatic persona. Speaking of me, it's time I transformed again. I've been doing the aging Italian movie star for too long. I need to look younger. Lively-er! Like a lucky star!

Mama: Movie star? Have you seen any of your movies? You're more like an aging music video extra. And you know how badly they age. Just look at your brother.

Madonna: That's what happens when you only get 4 minutes of fame. Now push up your CVS glasses and let's get this show on the road. I can't be late for the red carpet.

Mama: I'm going to express myself by strangling you with my tape measure.

Madonna: I'm crazy for your ire, you tiny, poor beautiful stranger.

Mama: By the way, that pretty Blake Lively has better legs than you. Maybe I should sew you a long, wool skirt so you don't offend Mr. Lagerfeld.

Madonna: Guess who's going to be burning up in her bed tonight?

A Prickly Situation

Gown Goddess: Stoopid photographaar! I told you posing amid cactus would be a biiig mistake!

Sweater Girl: On the plus side, I don't think I'm a virgin anymore.

One Carry-On & One Buffoon Per Person

Ditz Guy: What do you mean, none of my things are contained in all this luggage?

It Girl: Darling, it's Fashion Week! Everyone knows you're a total nobody unless you arrive with no less than five suitcases. Of your own.

Ditz Guy: But my Hugo Boss suits! You know they cut me just right at the hips. Do you want me sitting next to Anna Wintour, looking like a fatty?

It Girl: With that face, you'll be lucky if you get a seat in the back with the stylists' assistants. The second assistants, that is.

Ditz Guy: But I'm sure your VIP status will be just fine. If you lose the wig.

It Girl: You're riding home in the cargo hold.

Super-Duper-Size Me

You go on one little five-month, fast-food binge and the next thing you know, you're relegated to being photographed in coats the size of the Empire State Building. You're darn right I'm not smiling about it.

Party Pooper

Whoever came up with a city chic dress code for a ranch party better have a cute cowhand waiting by the bar with an armful of Shout Wipes.

Twisted Sisters

 

Chubby Cheek: Wait until she finds out Jimmy gave me his peanut-butter sandwich at lunch yesterday. Pretty Girl won't be sleeping so peacefully then.

Unfairly Chic: I can hear you. I'm not sleeping, I'm resting for my playground tete-a-tete with Bobby. You know Bobby? Whose dad owns the Handi-Dip? Guess who won't be getting her signature Double-Sundae-With-Everything anymore? And everyone knows Jimmy has cooties. He's made the rounds of the entire third grade.

Chubby Cheek: You take that back! The part about my sundae, that is. As for Jimmy, I guess that explains me waking up with a cold sore this morning. Thanks for hiding it with your silky hair.

Unfairly Chic: The Beautiful People are here to help in your time of need.