Lady Gaga Gets Spanked By Jean Paul Gaultier In A Nun Costume

Lady Gaga getting spanked by Jean Paul Gaultier in the 'Gaga by Gaultier' documentary.
Photo: Courtesy of Jean Paul Gaultier

I just feel like this is one of those titles that should end with #duh #obvi and #asyoudo because, well, how can you bat an eyelash at any of what's going on here? So while I had every intention of giving y'all at least a 24-hour Lady Gaga break since the entire internet is constantly swarming with her various comings, goings, swaddlings, shoddings, whatever "-ings" the one for hats would be, but then she just goes and does something fascinating and wonderful like hang out with Jean Paul Gaultier so he can make a documentary about her. I love this guy.

I miss Gaultier, just in the sense that I miss him being on my feed and all over the place. Just as I wish Thierry Mugler, the actual man—no disrespect obviously to Nicola Formichetti, who is a genius and the brains behind getting LONG-ARCHIVED LACROIX WEDDING DRESSES onto my television screen *bows deeeeeeeeeeep to anoint hallowed feet with costly emollients*—who is going by "Manfred" and devoting his life to esoteric musical theater would grace my feed with a new fashion creation. Holy please come home Manfred Mugler! (I would add MM links here, but sometimes there's too many surprise exposed penises, and I'm keeping it PG.) ANYWAY, yeah, I love JPG. I love his stripes. I love his shoulder pads. I HATEENVYSEETHERlove that Gaga gets to clawpaw through his archives and pick out stuff she feels like wearing.

I love that they're getting along. I love that she uses the "vous" form when addressing him because she's not a horrible trollop person. I love that when he brings her a bouquet of flowers, they both seem genuinely delighted and happy. Basically, I can't wait for this "Gaga By Gaultier" documentary, because just when I think I've reached my personal saturation point with the Gaggle, she finds another way to pull me back and titillate me all over again. It feels pretty good.