It's the season finale.
It's the 'Omigad-why-did-they-kill-off-Marissa-I-will-never-forgive-you-Josh-Schwartz' moment.
[No but seriously, when they killed off Marissa Cooper, they killed Mischa Barton. I mean, what has she been doing lately asides from accumulating cellulite and not putting her patented California slurred speech to good - acting - use? Miss you, Mushy!]
Thunderbolt and lightning, this post-modern pentalogy had to come to an end one day. And what better place to end it all than the beach?
Part V of V
Crackle. Snap. Pop.
Flames roaring, bottles popping, sand chafing.
It's the end of a day of sun-soaking and swimming and you're setting the beach alight, looking like a summer paradox in macabre McQueen.
Stumble. Trip. Scream.
Insane laughter, inebriated inappropriateness, all-round glee.
Baby, you can light my fire.
Entire look: Alexander McQueen