This whole thing runs on the assumption that you want to undress Mariah Carey. I mean, that’s it. That’s the game. A Flash thing from another era where the biggest thrill was clicking on a badly compressed jpeg of a celebrity in lingerie and hoping the next frame loaded before your dial-up dropped. I spent way too long trying to find the perfect combination of the same three lacy outfits. They’re all slightly different shades of beige. Or maybe one is gold? The color picker is a liar.

The cursor changes to a weird little hand when you hover over a clothing item, but it doesn’t actually grab anything. You just click and the image swaps. It’s less a dress up game and more a slideshow of decisions you can’t take back. There’s no undo button. You click a corset and she’s in it forever, or until you click another one. The striptease part is generous. She starts in a dress, you click it, and it vanishes. Poof. No animation, no sultry look, just the raw, unpolished transition from clothed to not. It’s almost jarring, like a magic trick performed by someone who hates magic.

I wish the background wasn’t just a flat, soulless purple. It’s the kind of purple that exists in a vacuum, making the whole scene feel like it’s happening inside a bruise. The music, if you can call it that, is a ten-second loop of something that sounds vaguely like a MIDI file trying to remember a hit song. It drills into your skull. I had to mute the tab. The whole thing has the energy of a forbidden website you’d find on a school computer, and honestly, that’s its only real charm. It’s not sexy, it’s archeology.