The Sun'll Come Out, Tomorrow

A fantastic use for the moistened business page of the Macondo Manana [TILDE!!!!]: wrap your Velvet Queen sunflowers in it and put them in a Ziploc and germination shall occur. Overnight. It's a miracle.

Fashion Police

NO.


Dear Scarlett Johanson. Put your slip back on. Please.


Dear Celine Dion. You've lost the baby weight. We get it. But not in your chin. Please do not wear its objective correlative in a neckline. Please.


Dear Sharon Stone. Baby girl. Whatever that thing is on your shoulder looks like a skunk, and your beehive matches it. You're heading into Faye Dunaway chimp movie territory here. It is terrible to watch.


Dear Nicole Kidman. As your face grows stiffer and more and more elaborately sculpted, so armored and baroque a dress, with its allusions to the queen in a deck of cards, becomes kind of like a parody of your Restylane. And your husband looks like your lunch.


Dear Halle Berry. You are the fairest of them all. Please stop leading the nude chiffon/ tulle MEGO pack, which this year includes Hillary Swank, Michelle Williams, and Mandy Moore, and wear a better color. Turquoise. Schiaparelli pink. Bronze sequins. Dude.


Dear Marisa Tomei. You are one of the smartest and best actresses around. This is not half way chic enough to represent. It looks like granny's attic, which is not the best reference for an actress of a certain age to make. You should be wearing gorgeous chic futuristic, not retro wrinkled vintage.


Dear Anne Hathaway. There is something terribly wrong with this dress that only the Fug Girls can describe properly: Meanwhile, Anne Hathaway is in a red dress with a butt pouch.. It's not only the headlights. And the thing about how you're not as cute as you think you are. And the bustle. And what's that dreck on your neck? It's the fit, dude. Red has to fit you like a glove. And not have embellishment except your perfect skin. Blegh.


Yes.


Dear Reese Witherspoon. Black and white is a bright color. And so foxy and simple and natural and glam. You rock.


Dear Gwyneth Paltrow: I haven't seen you in a dress that covered your lower thighs for like five years. You look like you're desperately trying to hang on to, oh, I don't know, a rock star husband. This is a very pretty dress, and I'm happy to see you're wearing a bra. You're still too blonde and Botoxed.


Dear Sandra Bullock. A real lady knows that there are only three colors to wear at night. Black. White. Or red. You look like John Singer Sargent's Madame X in this one. But red. Tailoring is ninja. You know we know he knows what he's missing.


Dear Hailee Steinfeld. This is a perfect choice for a young girl. You can pull off vintage where a more mature actress cannot, and the nude blush shade looks sweet and innocent and dreamy on you, as does the waltz length and retro bouffant skirt. Head band, teeny earrings, no other jewels, perfect.

AND THE WINNER IS


Dear Jennifer Hudson. You are so beautiful, to me.