Beginning of a Bad Romance?

Dear Lady Gaga,

I spent the better part of yesterday figuring out who you are.  Oh, I've seen you around--hell, I live in Boystown, Chicago, so it's not like I just heard about you--I mean, the Boy and I will walk past the music store down the street that sometimes features big posters of you, and he'll ask me, "Who is this Lady Gaga?  Should I know her?"  To which I didn't quite know what to answer.  I knew you were a big deal in pop music, I just hadn't listened to your music and seen the spectacle that you are until yesterday.

Anyway, me likey!  The Boy, a different story, but it was fun to see him try to jam out to your songs in the kitchen while wearing a white button-down shirt, black pants, and black Cabela's belt with a mini Cabela's multi-tool attachment.  I like your catchy songs and the musicality you have.  I dig the fact that you actually sing when performing live, and of course, I'm fascinated with your wardrobe.

In fact, I'm really curious about the size of your closet.  Seriously, how do you store some of your clothes?  Especially the big structured outfits with the massive shoulder pads and huge, pouffy skirts (the little vinyl suits, I imagine, fold up nicely and fit into a sweetly sacheted drawer)--how do you store all of them, and what's the square footage of your closet?  Or do you have an entire studio apartment (or larger) designated for clothing?

Let me know when you get a chance--I'd like to know how to keep my fishnets, hot pants, and bejeweled couture in mint condition.

Thanks!

Your pal,
Jill

p.s.--If you decide to branch out into athletics, might I suggest roller derby?  You'd totally rock the track!