HUSH. JUST. STOP. (YOUR ENTIRE LIFE.)
It’s been a while since Godney graced the cover of a magazine…but she’s here now.
To tie in with the premiere of X Factor next week, along with the debut of her new love elixir Fantasy Twist, as well as her game-changing game changer Twister Dance, Promoney is hitting the shelves as the cover girl of the October issue of Elle Magazine.
This morning, photos of both the cover and inside spread hit the Interwebz. And after extensive analysis and testing via state-of-the-art technology, it was concluded among the scientific elite that not even a single flaw could be found in any pixel of these photographs. (On a related note, Amy–who many are still seeking–has not been found, either.)
There’s a teaser of the piece over at People, in which the Holy Spearit discusses her man Jason Trawick, da babiez and X Factor. She even goes a lil’ bit Reflectiveney! From People:
I guess I’ve been under the microscope so long that I don’t even pay attention to the nonsense anymore,” she says. “I gave up getting upset about things people make up about me a long time ago.
Serving For The Record realness right now.
And while the cover is (obviously) legendary, as well as this incredible shot of Britney with Jason, it is quite literally all about this photograph from the shoot:
Just look at Queen B adhering those dulcet vocals to tape! ICON. And what is she doing in the studio?! Is she re-recording the “This is the…” part of the “Till The World Ends” remix? Perhaps a sensually seductive cover of “Soda Pop”? Or an ode to her new fave author, Voltaire? I can’t tell. Also, those bottoms. THOSE. BOTTOMS.
Fast forward one month: Legendtina sits back on her red swivel chair and wraps her icy talons around a copy of the October issue of Elle, murmuring bitterly. As she flips though, she scoffs at the lessers and breaks into sudden yodel notes to remind herself of her gift. Suddenly, she spits out the scalding coffee from her Mi Riflejo promotional mug.
“IS THAT MY FUCKING STUDDED DIAPER?” she roars, throwing several glasses of wine and a vase at her assistant. Heaving herself from her red swivel chair, she charges into the wardrobe department at The Voice, feverishly ripping through the closets.
Staring down at the tattered garments in her clutches, she looks back up into a mirror. “Let’s get glam,” she whispers.
And the legacy lives on…
EDIT: And now, the subscriber’s cover: Starbucks, shades, and not a single fuck given. Objectively perfect.
GET OUTTA MY WAYNEY.