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Fashion/Style by Liza Van Horne

It's goddamned Chloe and her Reign of Psychosis, is what. It's Chloe, going all Fetal Attraction and running around town chirping to anyone within earshot about how she's carrying Li'l Cane, about how she's getting married (oops, but the groom doesn't know it yet!) - and also barking at the doctor to fix her up, pronto, because her loins are swelling with almighty Chancellor DNA. It isn't remotely entertaining anymore. Not that it ever was! Look, I don't give a rat's ass if the baby begins telegraphing "M-Y D-A-D-D-Y I-S C-A-N-E" via Morse code with its kicks. We all KNEW that Chloe was preggers before she even pretended to sleep with Cane. She took the test. WE SAW IT. We know it, she knows it and there is nothing at all in this storyline to interest anyone except aspiring bunny-boilers who WILL NOT BE IGNORED while they sit in the dark listening to Madame Butterfly and flicking the lights on and off.

Gah. I really can't stomach this misogynistic "desperate, manipulative woman traps hostile, unavailable man" crap. I am not interested in any of that - unless it involves putting someone in a cage somewhere. People caged by T3H CRAYZEES are always soap opera GOLD, let's face it.

Well, now that I've got that off my chest, let's get back to less offensive issues like Sharon's red dress on Friday at the Useless Style warehouse. An eagle-eyed reader emailed me to point out that it looked VERY similar to the dress Phyllis wore to the Goller, so I made a point to pay attention. Hmmm, the dress had a similar cut and a low, squared neck, but the cap sleeves were more triangular, and a rear view showed that Sharon's dress didn't have the cut-away shoulder notches that Phyllis's dress had.

Speaking of Phyllis "Self-Appointed Conscience of the World" Newman, I don't even know how to describe the thing she had on at the Jitter Joint the other day when she and Nick were trying to kiss Brad's ass into cooperation. I can tell you this: it was purple. It seemed kind of sheer. It had semi-detached sleeves and bared shoulders. I think it was some kind of bizarre blouse with folksy trim, but honestly, your guess is as good as mine. The style resembled something Molly Ringwald once made out of an old pink formal gown from Goodwill so that she could bravely attend her prom all by herself and end up in the parking lot playing kissy-face with the insecure country-club asshole who totally dissed her earlier in the movie. Sigh. Yeah, I forgave him too.

Readers, has Amber been playing with a time machine of late? Because I swear to God, from one day to the next she's representing a different fashion mini-era. You remember she was wearing that navy roller-disco romper last week. Well, when she went to pay a pity call on Chloe at the God Have Mercy Medical Center, she looked as if she'd come straight from Madonna's Blonde Ambition tour in 1990 - what with her black halter-necked dress, platinum hair pulled back harshly off her face, matte red lipstick, way-too-brown eyebrow pencil, and that heavy mauve eyeshadow and black eyeliner. Amber looks so much prettier with light, neutral makeup; it's just a damn shame when they trash her up. Having noted that, I must say on a less superficial level that I am shocked, truly shocked at what appears to be a heretofore undiscovered level of maturity in Amber's attitude lately. She's taking her breakup in stride with a fair amount of self-awareness.

Good Lord, if Amber can develop practical relationship insights, what's next? Will Neil decide to back out of his adult children's lives?! Will Cane Ashby inform his mother that although he's awfully flattered, he can't possibly accept the CEO position because he has absolutely no credentials or experience for such a job? Will Victoria slowly learn to comprehend sentences aren't largely comprised of the pronouns "I" or "Me"? Will someone take away Nikki's plastic hair-clips? I'm not holding my breath, but if Cane can be biologically implicated as the father of a baby who is as much his progeny as is, say, a piece of licorice, then anything can happen. Maybe Devon and Cousin It will fall madly in love and move to Utah where they can be legally wed and spend their days singing off-key duets about rainbows and orphans and puppy dogs and following their dreeeeams!

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