Blondie
~*~*~*~<br><font color=blue>This TF always enjoys
- Joined
- Aug 18, 1999
- Messages
- 17,306
Otherwise known as "oh no they didn't!"
Oh....but yes they did!
by Kat Giantis of MSN Entertainment
Risqué Business: Many a starlet would scoff at the idea of donning a dress made entirely of recycled garter belts, but not Jessica Simpson. At the MTV Video Music Awards, the pervasive, perky-bottomed "Dukes of Hazzard" bombshell transforms herself into Beer Wench Barbie with these tragic black-and-white togs. Not even the dizzy soon-to-be-ex Mrs. Lachey could have thought that it was a smart idea to style a bewildering and bizarre mix of short-shorts, an exposed black lace bra, a ruffled and frilly Frederick's of Hollywood-style baby doll and platform shoes from the "Pretty Woman" streetwalking collection. (In her defense, perhaps her vision was obscured by the spiraling extensions unfortunately framing her face and the pound-and-a-half of kohl and mascara rimming her eyes.) Still, the most disturbing part of Jessica's getup is the nagging suspicion that her dad-manager-overlord Joe "You Can't Cover Those Suckers Up" Simpson probably helped her pick it out.
The Stone Age: Sharon Stone inexplicably goes from sexy to septuagenarian as she slouches towards fashion infamy at the Louis Vuitton runway show in Paris. Rumor has it that the erstwhile "Basic Instinct" flasher is wearing nothing but skin under her frumpy, oversized grey coat, which is apparently the outerwear of choice for elderly exhibitionists everywhere. Sharon pairs her jumbo jacket with a ginormous grandma-like purse seemingly stolen off the Olsen twins, whom she likely has stuffed into her bag along with a variety of biddy staples, including hard candies (in very crinkly wrappers, natch) and a jar of Metamucil (unopened, judging by the look on her face). The star accessorizes her atrocious attire with germ-deflecting grey gloves and a bodaciously bad combo of socks and heels, all of which seem designed to prevent her from catching her death of cold. Stone finishes off her crotchety couture with post-cataract-surgery sunglasses and a truly tragic floppy topper, which answers the age-old question of what evil would look like in hat form.
Abracadabra! Watch Me Make My Sex Appeal Disappear: Take the bushy moustache and droopy 'do of '70s uber-magician Doug Henning, mix in a touch of foppish Spanish matador and what do you get? The utter destruction of the sole source of manly-man hunkiness in the "Lord of the Rings" trilogy. Viggo Mortensen (yes, that's really dashing Aragorn), who apparently arrived for his Cannes photo op straight from the running of the bulls at Pamplona, styles a stiff and bizarre black bolero costume that's just a red cape away from making us cry, "Ole!" Scratch that ... it's actually just a red cape away from making us cry, "Oy vey!"
Infantile Behavior:
Somewhere, a pre-schooler cries over her missing party dress and curses the name Serena Williams. The tennis star continues her losing streak on the red carpet in this jaw-droppingly inappropriate short and ruffled strapless number. Serena, for future reference, here are a few ways to tell if you're wearing the wrong dress. When it looks like you just jumped out of a cake -- and the cake got stuck around your mid-section -- you're wearing the wrong dress. When the lamps in the room are styling shades that look similar to your frock but with a better fit, you're wearing the wrong dress. And when you try to downplay your powerful and shapely figure beneath garb so girly-girl it should get its own bottle of Midol, you're definitely wearing the wrong dress.
Unicorn-y: Paris Hilton probably thought this tie-dyed, nightie-like number looked ethereal (assuming she knows what the word means), but with its strange globular pattern, it instead seems disconcertingly bacterial. Perhaps the id-driven Greek billion-heir enthusiast thought (assuming she thinks) this swirling, swarming dress would appeal to her core fan base of prepubescent girls, who likely have a soft spot for the busy pastel print because it's identical to the background on every single unicorn poster decorating their wall.
Sisterhood of the Vanishing Pants: Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen, fed up with all those snippy comments about how their commitment to layered clothing makes them look more hobo than boho, make a drastic decision. Unfortunately, "pants optional" is rarely the solution to one's fashion problems (or any problem, for that matter). The pocket-sized siblings slip into something far too comfortable as they hit the red carpet in matching mini-tunics, with Ashley, left, opting for an ivory maternity tent and Mary-Kate donning a blobby beige garment bag. Despite their colossal couture, the twin teen titans still look as pretty as Uncle Jesse with a freshly fluffed mullet thanks to their refreshingly healthy glow, to-die-for accessories and hotter-than-hot heels.
Orange You Going to Put on Something Else?:
We could go for the easy Christo joke here, quipping that this must be where the saffron sheets from "The Gates" go to die, but Mariah Carey deserves -- scratch that -- demands better than that. The divalicious octave-jumper, who was apparently just teasing us with talk of a classy makeover, takes to the streets of New York in this Tang-tinted tragedy, which shows off her terrific figure and terrifically bad taste. The voluminous sleeves are perfect for keeping the little people from getting too close, while the fabric-collating center ring can serve double-duty as the leash holder for all her many minions. How tacky are these togs? They would have Cher, clad in a see-through Bob Mackie gown and 4-foot feathered headdress, shaking her head and sighing, "Honey, it's a bit gaudy."
The Jean Meanie: Scarlett Johansson might want to bone up on the phrase, "With friends like these, who needs enemies." The starlet strikes her patented pigeon-toed pose while wearing dire duds for designer-pal Tara Subkoff's Imitation of Christ runway show. It remains unclear just what heinous offense Scarlett committed against Tara that led the designer to dress the actress in a diaphanous tank top (good idea on the bra, sweetie) and -- oh people, we can barely say the words -- ultra-tapered, high-waisted jeans (shudder). The disastrous, airtight denim not only gives Scarlett a severe case of lap lines, but it also manages to destroy one of the most fabulous figures in Hollywood. It's a fashion crime that automatically earns these pants the most severe punishment available: banishment to the clearance rack at Talbots.
Muumuu Pooh-Pooh: We just don't understand Nicole Richie. The red carpet staple probably hasn't downed a decent meal in months, but instead of showing off the stomach-growling skin-and-bones result of her oh-so-careful carb-avoidance, she decides to cover up in what is either a kaleidoscopic clown costume (red nose and floppy shoes not included) or the biggest piece of spin art ever. Nicole is all bobble head, ropey neck and twig-like ankles in this motley, misshapen muumuu, which is so roomy it could fit both the starlet's sylphlike pal Mischa Barton and a much-needed stack of grilled cheese sandwiches.
Wash and Wear: We'd better just refer to Janet as "Ms. Jackson" from here on out, because things are about to get nasty. Sadly, the chanteuse is a mess from the top of her Jiffy-Pop hair (complete with limp, vision-obscuring bangs) to the bottom of her poufy striped skirt. Did Ms. Jackson glance at her shower curtain while preparing for her big photo op and think, "Hey, how great would I look in that?" And did she really think that attaching said curtain to her cute and curvy figure -- thereby making her hips and legs appear several feet wider than they actually are -- would be flattering? Toss in that mismatched knotted shirt stolen off the back of Joanie from "Happy Days" and you have togs more tragic than a slumber party at Neverland.
Purple People Eater: Madonna takes her passion for persona swapping to a catty new level at the premiere of "Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire" by co-opting an alter ego from an entirely different species. With her bloomers, jaunty jacket and flashy footwear, the preternaturally preserved, purple pushing pop icon is just a feathered cap, sword and some catnip away from swashing some buckles as Puss in Boots. Alas, this giant hairball of an ensemble is more costume than couture and should be immediately dangled in front of the nearest claw-baring feline to use as a scratching post.
Moo-ving Violations: Paging People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals. You've already targeted Jennifer Lopez for using fur in her Sweetface fashion line, but what about all the innocent cows who gave their lives in order to create this desperately dire leather dress? The tri-toned, tent-like tragedy, which was seemingly stolen off the back of Wilma Flintstone, is so roomy she could fit diminutive hubby Marc Anthony beneath it -- along with a couple of her more diminutive exes. The high-maintenance multi-hyphenate also appears to have been attacked by both Heidi, who forced her to fashion her hair into a misguided braided updo, and dozens of wayward shower curtain rings, which
Stocking Feat: When Lindsay Lohan arrived at the VMAs wearing nearly the same leopard-print gown as Gwen Stefani, she didn't panic. Instead, the resourceful teen queen pulled together an entirely new look using nothing but a jar of glitter and a couple pairs of her grandma's old pantyhose (the No Nonsense brand, judging by the look on Lindsay's face). But while this sparkly, retro-futuristic garb might be just the thing to wear while getting hit on by Captain Kirk on the bridge of the Enterprise or starring as a FemBot in an "Austin Powers" sequel, it's all wrong for the dewy starlet. The frumpy, dumpy high-necked creation is more costume than couture, and makes LiLo appear more washed out and weary than we would have thought possible for someone who's just 19. Also not helping matters are Lohan's nude lips, too dark eyebrows (seemingly stolen from Brooke Shields circa 1980) and her unwavering belief that she really does look better as a blond.
Messing in Action: With apologies to Eva Peron, don't cry for Debra Messing. The truth is her fashion sense has never left her. It just seems to be taking an extended vacation. The "Will & Grace" star's sartorial losing streak continues with a garish getup and heinous hair straight off the set of "Evita." Messing is a hot mess from the top of her severely parted, librarian-prim bun to the bottom of the stringy hem of her vertically striped smock. And her Joker-inspired lipstick and exposed, bauble-covered chest aren't doing her any favors, either. Our advice for the once bony actress: Quit listening to whatever bird-brained stylist advised you to cover up your fabulous post-baby bod beneath blobby blunders like this and don a dress that clings to every curve for dear life.
Bow and Narrow: Kirsten Dunst and Renée Zellweger have many gifts, but dressing up like bow-topped presents waiting to be unwrapped? Not among them. On the left, Dunst is a jewel-toned tragedy at the Deauville Film Festival as she tangles up her shapeless sapphire blue frock with a binding and cleavage-squashing purple ribbon cinched with a behemoth of a broach. And while the slimline starlet scores high marks for her flattering locks and lovely makeup, she loses major points for donning the dreaded ballet flat, a good-in-theory footwear choice that almost no one can pull off successfully. Meanwhile, at the London premiere of "Cinderella Man," Zellweger attempts to liven up her standard Size 0 black Carolina Herrera gown -- and add bulk to her now sadly deflated décolletage -- by mugging a group of IRS agents with her Ginsu-sharp collarbones and shoving their ties into her bodice.
We Have a Bad Feeling About This: Somewhere, Obi-Wan Kenobi curses his lousy luck for choosing a dry cleaner who can't keep track of his robes. But his loss is Jeremy Irons' gain, as the actor goes into full-on Jedi Knight mode at the Venice Film Festival. In this oddball outfit, Irons is just a lightsaber and an obsessive need to repeat the phrase "Use the force, Luke" away from achieving space-age samurai-dom, which would be fine if he was in any way, shape or form connected to the "Star Wars" franchise. Alas, he's not, and instead he ends up looking like the oldest and wisest geek at a sci-fi convention.
Out of Tunic: Oh, Sandra Bullock. Where do we begin? You know we think you're just adorable, really we do. But come on, did you really think it was a good idea to wear one of Andre the Giant's custom-made tunics from "The Princess Bride" to the MTV Movie Awards? And pair it with Mini-Me's jeans? And style locks so dull and listless they could bring Tom Cruise down off his love high? We realize it must be a wee bit stressful for Sandy, at 40, to attend a high-profile ceremony crammed with nubile teen queens (not to mention her dewy ex-boyfriend, Ryan Gosling). But that's all the more reason why she should take a fashion risk and show off her fabulous face and figure, not hide them beneath ho-hum hair and so many yards of unstructured fabric that Boy Scouts could set up camp under her.
Mechanical Difficulties:
Is it any wonder Lisa Marie Presley is giving the camera the stink eye? Heck, you'd be a little peevish, too, if you had to strike a pose to promote your latest album after putting in a long, hard day rotating tires and doing lube jobs. Elvis' little girl, who has turned her dad's patented lip curl into an off-putting pout, is worth hundreds of millions of dollars, and yet she chooses to make the scene in Dickies coveralls that can be had for around $30 at any discount uniform store. These utilitarian togs are meant for those who perform hard labor (and no, marrying Michael Jackson and Nicolas Cage doesn't count), so we suggest Lisa Marie quit trying to look like the tough girl she isn't and embrace the heiress within.
Bad Girls:
If reform schools had proms, Paris Hilton and her new best friend Kimberly Stewart would be the queens. The gruesome twosome hit the red carpet smiling with such self-satisfaction it looks like they just positioned a bucket of pig's blood over poor Nicole Richie's head. Paris, sporting a brunette coif straight from Raquel Welch's wig collection, glows in a Mountain Dew-hued Gunne Sax figure-skating frock, while Stewart defies those naysayers who claim a woman closing in on 50 can't wear slinky floral numbers. The bottle blond, whose crispy fried locks bear an alarming resemblance to dad Rod Stewart's peroxide coif, barely disturbs the fabric as she slips her flat-as-Paris'-line-readings frame into the floor-sweeping tiered number.
Oh....but yes they did!
by Kat Giantis of MSN Entertainment
Risqué Business: Many a starlet would scoff at the idea of donning a dress made entirely of recycled garter belts, but not Jessica Simpson. At the MTV Video Music Awards, the pervasive, perky-bottomed "Dukes of Hazzard" bombshell transforms herself into Beer Wench Barbie with these tragic black-and-white togs. Not even the dizzy soon-to-be-ex Mrs. Lachey could have thought that it was a smart idea to style a bewildering and bizarre mix of short-shorts, an exposed black lace bra, a ruffled and frilly Frederick's of Hollywood-style baby doll and platform shoes from the "Pretty Woman" streetwalking collection. (In her defense, perhaps her vision was obscured by the spiraling extensions unfortunately framing her face and the pound-and-a-half of kohl and mascara rimming her eyes.) Still, the most disturbing part of Jessica's getup is the nagging suspicion that her dad-manager-overlord Joe "You Can't Cover Those Suckers Up" Simpson probably helped her pick it out.
The Stone Age: Sharon Stone inexplicably goes from sexy to septuagenarian as she slouches towards fashion infamy at the Louis Vuitton runway show in Paris. Rumor has it that the erstwhile "Basic Instinct" flasher is wearing nothing but skin under her frumpy, oversized grey coat, which is apparently the outerwear of choice for elderly exhibitionists everywhere. Sharon pairs her jumbo jacket with a ginormous grandma-like purse seemingly stolen off the Olsen twins, whom she likely has stuffed into her bag along with a variety of biddy staples, including hard candies (in very crinkly wrappers, natch) and a jar of Metamucil (unopened, judging by the look on her face). The star accessorizes her atrocious attire with germ-deflecting grey gloves and a bodaciously bad combo of socks and heels, all of which seem designed to prevent her from catching her death of cold. Stone finishes off her crotchety couture with post-cataract-surgery sunglasses and a truly tragic floppy topper, which answers the age-old question of what evil would look like in hat form.
Abracadabra! Watch Me Make My Sex Appeal Disappear: Take the bushy moustache and droopy 'do of '70s uber-magician Doug Henning, mix in a touch of foppish Spanish matador and what do you get? The utter destruction of the sole source of manly-man hunkiness in the "Lord of the Rings" trilogy. Viggo Mortensen (yes, that's really dashing Aragorn), who apparently arrived for his Cannes photo op straight from the running of the bulls at Pamplona, styles a stiff and bizarre black bolero costume that's just a red cape away from making us cry, "Ole!" Scratch that ... it's actually just a red cape away from making us cry, "Oy vey!"
Infantile Behavior:
Somewhere, a pre-schooler cries over her missing party dress and curses the name Serena Williams. The tennis star continues her losing streak on the red carpet in this jaw-droppingly inappropriate short and ruffled strapless number. Serena, for future reference, here are a few ways to tell if you're wearing the wrong dress. When it looks like you just jumped out of a cake -- and the cake got stuck around your mid-section -- you're wearing the wrong dress. When the lamps in the room are styling shades that look similar to your frock but with a better fit, you're wearing the wrong dress. And when you try to downplay your powerful and shapely figure beneath garb so girly-girl it should get its own bottle of Midol, you're definitely wearing the wrong dress.
Unicorn-y: Paris Hilton probably thought this tie-dyed, nightie-like number looked ethereal (assuming she knows what the word means), but with its strange globular pattern, it instead seems disconcertingly bacterial. Perhaps the id-driven Greek billion-heir enthusiast thought (assuming she thinks) this swirling, swarming dress would appeal to her core fan base of prepubescent girls, who likely have a soft spot for the busy pastel print because it's identical to the background on every single unicorn poster decorating their wall.
Sisterhood of the Vanishing Pants: Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen, fed up with all those snippy comments about how their commitment to layered clothing makes them look more hobo than boho, make a drastic decision. Unfortunately, "pants optional" is rarely the solution to one's fashion problems (or any problem, for that matter). The pocket-sized siblings slip into something far too comfortable as they hit the red carpet in matching mini-tunics, with Ashley, left, opting for an ivory maternity tent and Mary-Kate donning a blobby beige garment bag. Despite their colossal couture, the twin teen titans still look as pretty as Uncle Jesse with a freshly fluffed mullet thanks to their refreshingly healthy glow, to-die-for accessories and hotter-than-hot heels.
Orange You Going to Put on Something Else?:
We could go for the easy Christo joke here, quipping that this must be where the saffron sheets from "The Gates" go to die, but Mariah Carey deserves -- scratch that -- demands better than that. The divalicious octave-jumper, who was apparently just teasing us with talk of a classy makeover, takes to the streets of New York in this Tang-tinted tragedy, which shows off her terrific figure and terrifically bad taste. The voluminous sleeves are perfect for keeping the little people from getting too close, while the fabric-collating center ring can serve double-duty as the leash holder for all her many minions. How tacky are these togs? They would have Cher, clad in a see-through Bob Mackie gown and 4-foot feathered headdress, shaking her head and sighing, "Honey, it's a bit gaudy."
The Jean Meanie: Scarlett Johansson might want to bone up on the phrase, "With friends like these, who needs enemies." The starlet strikes her patented pigeon-toed pose while wearing dire duds for designer-pal Tara Subkoff's Imitation of Christ runway show. It remains unclear just what heinous offense Scarlett committed against Tara that led the designer to dress the actress in a diaphanous tank top (good idea on the bra, sweetie) and -- oh people, we can barely say the words -- ultra-tapered, high-waisted jeans (shudder). The disastrous, airtight denim not only gives Scarlett a severe case of lap lines, but it also manages to destroy one of the most fabulous figures in Hollywood. It's a fashion crime that automatically earns these pants the most severe punishment available: banishment to the clearance rack at Talbots.
Muumuu Pooh-Pooh: We just don't understand Nicole Richie. The red carpet staple probably hasn't downed a decent meal in months, but instead of showing off the stomach-growling skin-and-bones result of her oh-so-careful carb-avoidance, she decides to cover up in what is either a kaleidoscopic clown costume (red nose and floppy shoes not included) or the biggest piece of spin art ever. Nicole is all bobble head, ropey neck and twig-like ankles in this motley, misshapen muumuu, which is so roomy it could fit both the starlet's sylphlike pal Mischa Barton and a much-needed stack of grilled cheese sandwiches.
Wash and Wear: We'd better just refer to Janet as "Ms. Jackson" from here on out, because things are about to get nasty. Sadly, the chanteuse is a mess from the top of her Jiffy-Pop hair (complete with limp, vision-obscuring bangs) to the bottom of her poufy striped skirt. Did Ms. Jackson glance at her shower curtain while preparing for her big photo op and think, "Hey, how great would I look in that?" And did she really think that attaching said curtain to her cute and curvy figure -- thereby making her hips and legs appear several feet wider than they actually are -- would be flattering? Toss in that mismatched knotted shirt stolen off the back of Joanie from "Happy Days" and you have togs more tragic than a slumber party at Neverland.
Purple People Eater: Madonna takes her passion for persona swapping to a catty new level at the premiere of "Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire" by co-opting an alter ego from an entirely different species. With her bloomers, jaunty jacket and flashy footwear, the preternaturally preserved, purple pushing pop icon is just a feathered cap, sword and some catnip away from swashing some buckles as Puss in Boots. Alas, this giant hairball of an ensemble is more costume than couture and should be immediately dangled in front of the nearest claw-baring feline to use as a scratching post.
Moo-ving Violations: Paging People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals. You've already targeted Jennifer Lopez for using fur in her Sweetface fashion line, but what about all the innocent cows who gave their lives in order to create this desperately dire leather dress? The tri-toned, tent-like tragedy, which was seemingly stolen off the back of Wilma Flintstone, is so roomy she could fit diminutive hubby Marc Anthony beneath it -- along with a couple of her more diminutive exes. The high-maintenance multi-hyphenate also appears to have been attacked by both Heidi, who forced her to fashion her hair into a misguided braided updo, and dozens of wayward shower curtain rings, which
Stocking Feat: When Lindsay Lohan arrived at the VMAs wearing nearly the same leopard-print gown as Gwen Stefani, she didn't panic. Instead, the resourceful teen queen pulled together an entirely new look using nothing but a jar of glitter and a couple pairs of her grandma's old pantyhose (the No Nonsense brand, judging by the look on Lindsay's face). But while this sparkly, retro-futuristic garb might be just the thing to wear while getting hit on by Captain Kirk on the bridge of the Enterprise or starring as a FemBot in an "Austin Powers" sequel, it's all wrong for the dewy starlet. The frumpy, dumpy high-necked creation is more costume than couture, and makes LiLo appear more washed out and weary than we would have thought possible for someone who's just 19. Also not helping matters are Lohan's nude lips, too dark eyebrows (seemingly stolen from Brooke Shields circa 1980) and her unwavering belief that she really does look better as a blond.
Messing in Action: With apologies to Eva Peron, don't cry for Debra Messing. The truth is her fashion sense has never left her. It just seems to be taking an extended vacation. The "Will & Grace" star's sartorial losing streak continues with a garish getup and heinous hair straight off the set of "Evita." Messing is a hot mess from the top of her severely parted, librarian-prim bun to the bottom of the stringy hem of her vertically striped smock. And her Joker-inspired lipstick and exposed, bauble-covered chest aren't doing her any favors, either. Our advice for the once bony actress: Quit listening to whatever bird-brained stylist advised you to cover up your fabulous post-baby bod beneath blobby blunders like this and don a dress that clings to every curve for dear life.
Bow and Narrow: Kirsten Dunst and Renée Zellweger have many gifts, but dressing up like bow-topped presents waiting to be unwrapped? Not among them. On the left, Dunst is a jewel-toned tragedy at the Deauville Film Festival as she tangles up her shapeless sapphire blue frock with a binding and cleavage-squashing purple ribbon cinched with a behemoth of a broach. And while the slimline starlet scores high marks for her flattering locks and lovely makeup, she loses major points for donning the dreaded ballet flat, a good-in-theory footwear choice that almost no one can pull off successfully. Meanwhile, at the London premiere of "Cinderella Man," Zellweger attempts to liven up her standard Size 0 black Carolina Herrera gown -- and add bulk to her now sadly deflated décolletage -- by mugging a group of IRS agents with her Ginsu-sharp collarbones and shoving their ties into her bodice.
We Have a Bad Feeling About This: Somewhere, Obi-Wan Kenobi curses his lousy luck for choosing a dry cleaner who can't keep track of his robes. But his loss is Jeremy Irons' gain, as the actor goes into full-on Jedi Knight mode at the Venice Film Festival. In this oddball outfit, Irons is just a lightsaber and an obsessive need to repeat the phrase "Use the force, Luke" away from achieving space-age samurai-dom, which would be fine if he was in any way, shape or form connected to the "Star Wars" franchise. Alas, he's not, and instead he ends up looking like the oldest and wisest geek at a sci-fi convention.
Out of Tunic: Oh, Sandra Bullock. Where do we begin? You know we think you're just adorable, really we do. But come on, did you really think it was a good idea to wear one of Andre the Giant's custom-made tunics from "The Princess Bride" to the MTV Movie Awards? And pair it with Mini-Me's jeans? And style locks so dull and listless they could bring Tom Cruise down off his love high? We realize it must be a wee bit stressful for Sandy, at 40, to attend a high-profile ceremony crammed with nubile teen queens (not to mention her dewy ex-boyfriend, Ryan Gosling). But that's all the more reason why she should take a fashion risk and show off her fabulous face and figure, not hide them beneath ho-hum hair and so many yards of unstructured fabric that Boy Scouts could set up camp under her.
Mechanical Difficulties:
Is it any wonder Lisa Marie Presley is giving the camera the stink eye? Heck, you'd be a little peevish, too, if you had to strike a pose to promote your latest album after putting in a long, hard day rotating tires and doing lube jobs. Elvis' little girl, who has turned her dad's patented lip curl into an off-putting pout, is worth hundreds of millions of dollars, and yet she chooses to make the scene in Dickies coveralls that can be had for around $30 at any discount uniform store. These utilitarian togs are meant for those who perform hard labor (and no, marrying Michael Jackson and Nicolas Cage doesn't count), so we suggest Lisa Marie quit trying to look like the tough girl she isn't and embrace the heiress within.
Bad Girls:
If reform schools had proms, Paris Hilton and her new best friend Kimberly Stewart would be the queens. The gruesome twosome hit the red carpet smiling with such self-satisfaction it looks like they just positioned a bucket of pig's blood over poor Nicole Richie's head. Paris, sporting a brunette coif straight from Raquel Welch's wig collection, glows in a Mountain Dew-hued Gunne Sax figure-skating frock, while Stewart defies those naysayers who claim a woman closing in on 50 can't wear slinky floral numbers. The bottle blond, whose crispy fried locks bear an alarming resemblance to dad Rod Stewart's peroxide coif, barely disturbs the fabric as she slips her flat-as-Paris'-line-readings frame into the floor-sweeping tiered number.
Makes me think I look pretty good sometimes 
I often wonder what they must have going on in their heads when they are dressing and look in the mirror. 
)
