In honor of the hippie-tastic wedding of the century, please forgive me while I quote some Bob Dylan and say, the times they are a changin’. Who’d have thought the triplets’ bohemian, anything-goes mom would actually get married? Certainly not the Sunday Styles section, whose editor was so surprised that the paper crashed an announcement into this weekend’s edition—complete with a photo of the pool-soaked wedding party. Can’t wait to see what A will do when she sees that… unless she’s learned by now that infamy is better than anonymity. With her track record, she should have!
The Shakespearean comedies all end happily: with a wedding. Because really, what’s more promising than love? We all like to turn up our noses and pretend to be cheesed out, but the promise of a happily-ever-after gets everyone… including me. So bask in the glory of this happy day, and enjoy the fairy-tale ending. But don’t get too comfortable. Because I’m always watching.
See you back in Manhattan!
You know you love me,
gossip girl