Yodel-ay-hee-ewwwww!

Why do I suddenly feel like yodeling? Ah, wait. Perhaps it’s this horribly wretched outfit that sexay thang Gisele Bundchen is sporting. WTF is this all about, anyway? Yeah, this was a fashion show, and yes, rarely is anything in a fashion show even remotely wearable in the real world, but damn! I’ve got Mountain Goat Fever here looking at this ensemble.

Gisele, dahling, I know this designer is paying you all kinds of money to drape this over your rockin bod, but perhaps you could head back to Vickie’s and stick to million dollar bras and angel wings? That’s the way we like you. Oh, and hanging all over Mr. SexyHot, Tom Brady, of course. Rowr.

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My Eyes! My Eyes!

Looks like Paris Hilton wasn’t kidding when she sang that dandy of a single Stars Are Blind (which, ahem, I might have downloaded off of iTunes, cough cough. Must’ve been drunk).

Not sure if her stylist took the day off or if P. Hil was feeling a little feisty or what, but I find it hard to believe that any person gifted with sight would actually venture out into the great, wide paparazzi-laden world wearing something this hideous. I mean, the chick is sporting at least four different patterns here…and we can’t even see her shoes. This is a poor, wretched excuse for an outfit and, Ms. Hilton, we expect a whole lot more out of you…like dresses with your name on them.

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‘Scuse me a sec, dahlings. I know we just leapt into a New Year, but did time somehow go backwards and nobody bothered to tell me? I sure as hell hope so, because that is the only way I could explain away the dastardly beach duds Neil Patrick Harris and his boy lovah, David Burtka, are sporting. Gah!

Seriously, I haven’t seen nonsense like this since the Crockett and Tubbs era. I really can’t stop staring. It’s like when you see a big zit on someone’s face and you know you shouldn’t stare, and it’s pretty much making you physically ill to stare, but you continue to do it anyway. Yeah, this is like that.

And I thought gay guys knew better. Sigh.

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What Up, Funky-Fresh Chick?

So when I first saw this pic of Miley Cyrus, I was totally inclined to say “Gah!” In fact, I had 100% anticipated ripping her to shreds, as I so love to do (to everyone, of course, not just Miley). I must say that I totally hate this bag. When the day comes that the giant bag is gone, I’ll be celebrating with as many cocktails and burritos as I can stomach. Truly.

OK. Aside from the bag, I actually kind of dig this look on Miley. It’s kind of fresh and the hat makes it a little funky. The bag (hurl) makes the whole look a little too coordinating, in my opinion, but overall, it’s a fun little ditty for a shopping trip or a travel day.

I do have to make note that the zipper’s down a bit far for a chicklet her age, but hey, I’ve seen worse on, well…the rest of the teen population. I guess I can deal, but if I were to run across her with that shirt on, I’d give the zipper a quick yank up myself. Yanno, just to be safe.

So, the moral of the story? This whole gig (minus the bag) gets my approval. So far, she’s two for two. Not bad.

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Now, Just What is Going on Here?

Look. I’m not one to go head-to-head with InStyle all that often (I said “all that often”, not “never, ever”. Sheesh.) But when I saw that they chose this pic of Jennifer Garner as their Look of the Day, I pretty much shot my Manhattan right through my schnoz, which is not even cool.

So, I have to wonder what the process was there, or what that editor had to be hepped up on when she made this choice. Or he. Actually, maybe it was a “he” since my first bitch about this dress is that it is treading down that very dangerous and slippery path to Nippledom. Like seriously, could that dress be any closer to Jen’s built-in thermometers? Really.

Second, I am very, very unsure of this pattern. I just don’t get it. The colors seem to say “Emperor Penguin” while the print’s all “Asian Flava”. Of course, the yellow flower smack in the center is calling to mind a field full of dandelions, but maybe that’s just moi.

I also hate the shape of this thing. Desperately. Jen, we all know you worked your ass off (literally) to get back in shape after Vi, so why in the hell would you encapsulate yourself in such a boxy frock? It’s just so…rectangular. Honestly, this thing is saying “Guest Room Pillowcase” much louder than “Red Carpet Rockin’”.

On the plus side, your smile is adorable as always and your hair is super cute and natural. Tousled waves are so the way to go.

One last thing, dahlings. Unless a world-famous shoe designer threatens to drill a stiletto heel into your skull unless you wear their pre-selected offerings, please avoid shoes that are squared-off anywhere at all costs. To me, that just chops the line of your stems right up and you’ve instantly lost a bunch of length. For this look, a sexy peeptoe would have totally been in order.

So what do you think, my lambs? You discuss while I go refresh my Manhattan. Okay, okay. I’ll bring one for you too. If I must.

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Is it just me, or is this not the weirdest picture ev-ah, my dahlings? The red backdrop looks all slutty and burlesque-y, but Mr. Aersosmith’s daughter is a mix of bad-girl in a short dress and up-to-there boots, and nerd girl in a pontytail, wrapped in a blankie knitted by grandma. I just don’t get this whole vibe.

Okay, let’s dissect, shall we? Yes, Liv is sporting a gigantic trend: Nordic-wear. Alpine patters, Fair Isle knits, yep, it’s all popular right now. And my snarky ass even likes this trend quite well, to be honest. But, I could definitely do without the fuzzy wuzzy polar bears on the dress. That faux pas alone cost Liv the Snarkstress Seal of Approval. Couple that with her mega-blah hairdo and I’m spilling fresh oil into my shredder as fast as I’m spilling my Cosmo down my throat. I think if you want to pull off a sassy look like this, especially with the sky-high boots, you need to up the ante in the ‘do department. Just my opinion.

I’m really feeling like she’d be better off trashing the “blankie dress” and wrapping up with that red curtain instead. Now that would look fabby with those boots.

Something to think about, Liv dahling. Oh, and give Daddy my best, would you? *mwah*

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So, wow, Paris is at it again, eh? I figured her wig obsession would be coming to a close, that it was just “one of those things”. A phase, of sorts. Welp, perhaps I was wrong. This time she’s channeling sister Nicky – and not succeeding. If there’s one thing about Paris, as dizzy, lightly-talented, and, uh, friendly with the fellas as she is, there was no denying she had great hair. Short and bobby or long and whipped into a headband, her hair always looks (make that looked) fabby. As a blond. I simply cannot groove on this brunette ickyness. Makes her look washed out, average, and dare I say heavier than normal. Now, I’m not sure about you, but those are three adjectives I am not looking for in a haircut.

So my suggestion, Ms. Hilton: Stick with the blond. It’s just part of who you are. Well, that and your collection of DUIs.

Oh, and psssst: Do yourself a favor and burn that dress. It’s making even your skinny ass look lumpy and bumpy. Blech.

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So I’m not sure I would’ve pegged J. Lo as a Private Pregger. I figured she’d be flaunting her bump all over the block. I guess I figured wrong. Instead, she’s taken to hiding out in these tenty-ass dresses, hiding the natural beauty that a pregnant chick has. I find it a shame, really. Now don’t get me wrong, I don’t like the in-your-face Mommas-to-Be that run around in midriff-sporting camis, but I’m not buying into this camp-worthy look either. I would’ve expected more from our girl. Gawd knows we’ve all been waiting long enough to share this big news with her, now she’s going to be all coy and hide it from us? Sheesh.

In other news, I gotta ask: what in the hell was she thinking when she (or her stylist) sent her out in that severe-pullback hairdo (on the left)? Instant face lift? I smell a nasty headache coming from that style, Jen. Really.

So anyway, have a great Friday, dahlings. Sorry for the late post today. I have a good excuse, but you’ll forgive me if I bribe you with a nice, strong drinkie, won’t you? Thanks, I thought so. I’ve taught you well.

Now go – it’s Happy Hour time! *clink*

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Whoa. Little L.C. had me running for The Hills when I caught a load of this freaky frock. It looks like Bad Lampshade Delivery Day at Tuesday Mornings, giant-sized. Gawd! The colors are fun and young (a bit of a twist for her “Who Needs Color?” ass), but the print (is this a print?) and texture (what is the texture?) is killing me.

I swear, if we all banded together and checked in our basements (or those of our, ahem, older loved ones), a whole slew of us would likely find something like this all boxed up…alongside a ceramic ashtray in 70’s Avacado Agony. Get it, Lauren? Blech.

Suddenly I feel the need to sip something a little wild and trippy. Hmmm. Ideas, my loves?

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But I promise, my dahlings, this post will more than make up for my tardy coverage. Because here, only for YOU my dear lambies, are the Emmys done Snarkstess style. Check them out and vote for your faves. The award for the winners (er, losers)? A good ‘ol fashioned ribbing from internet users far and wide. What a beautiful gift. So let’s dim the lights, grab a drinkie and enjoy.

The Award for Handheld Cleaner Posing as a Dress
The Snarky goes to…

Vanessa Williams in Featherduster Chic
(Is this a new trend? I just ripped on Charlize for this the other week! Bleh.)

The Award for I Make Way More Money than My Dress Suggests
The Snarky goes to…

America Ferrera in Clearance Bin Couture

The Award for Someone Attacked My Dress With a Horrid 80’s Phenomenon
The Snarky goes to…

Jenna Fischer in Bow-dacious Blech

The Award for Best Use of Recycled Garbage Bags
The Snarky goes to…

Jaime Pressly in Hefty Meets Disco Ball Ready-to-Wear

And finally, for the first Ensemble Award in Snarky history:
The Award for Most Wretched Hairdos on a Set of Newlyweds
The Snarky goes to…

Mr. and Mrs. Romijn-O’Connell in Messy I Need A Goddamn Haircut (O’Connell) and I Resurrected My Aquanet and Lock-n-Rolls (Romijn)

So there you have ‘em, my lovelies. The first annual Snarky Awards. A big, fabby “Cheers!” goes out to all the winners (losers!)

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