She's a dish. A petri dish.
This fashion plate brazenly challenges prevailing scientific dogma on both the potential growth rate of muslin-feeding paramecium and the origins of the home self-breast exam.
Our lady demonstrates that she's cultured in more ways than one by successfully marrying the tenacious allure of a bicep vine with the subtle mystique of a partially obscured potty chair.
And that, my friends, is why you should party like it's 1809 this New Year's Eve.
A solemn bow to Nuranar, who is probably in witness protection by now.