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Fashion/Style by Liza Van Horne
June 6, 2008

Dear readers, even though I write this column as a labor of love, and am beholden to the generous donations I receive from many of you--in other words, even though this is a strictly volunteer gig and I don't get paid any kind of regular salary--I can and do take the time to research certain things. Was Jana's dress on such-and-such a day made from a damask fabric? What is "pick-stitching"? Is the correct term for Amber's striped top "chevron"? Sometimes I need to double-check my limited knowledge of fashion and thanks to the Internet, it takes me only a few seconds to find the answer I'm looking for.

I mention this because the writers of Y&R can't seem to be bothered to get their facts straight, and it's straight-up insulting to the audience. Never mind the fact that just the other day Gloria waltzed into the Abbott dining room with a canvas tote of bananas and apples "from the farmer's market." As if! As if farmer's markets in WISCONSIN are even open yet! As if fresh Wisconsin-grown apples are available in early June! As if BANANAS could possibly be local to Genoa City! Come on! The writers should be ashamed of themselves.

Never mind the fact that Sharky In The Kool-Aid over there is an actual work of art by Damien Hirst entitled "The Physical Impossibility of Death in the Mind of Someone Living", which is currently on display at the Metropolitan Museum of Art through the year 2010, and which was bought in 2004 by Steven A. Cohen for eight million dollars. Never mind all that! Why wouldn't the museum decide to cut the agreed-upon display time short by a couple of years? Why wouldn't Victor pay nearly twice what the previous owner paid only four years later? Sure! Why not! I know next to nothing about modern art, and it took me about fifteen seconds to find this information. If they're going to mix reality into the fictional universe of Y&R, they could at least do their homework. It's ridiculous.

Now that I've got that off my chest, I'm about to say something that might shock and even frighten you:

Sharon's hair looked good yesterday.

The female Jesus had her hair pulled up loosely into a bun, with wavy tendrils framing her face. I thought I was going to shit myself. Her one-shouldered white top with a thin black belt was actually kind of cute. The matching white skirt was, as usual, three sizes too small and when she turned to walk out of the room I could clearly see the outline of her thong. Whale tail! Thar she blows! And she really does blow.

Phyllis decided it was "Take Your Tits To Work Day" as she fluttered around in a tight turtlenecked black tank with a racer back, and armholes cut so deeply that you could seriously see the sides of her ladymuffins. Dude. Put those things away or tape them to your top! Jana, on the other hand, was work-appropriate in a light blue retro-looking blouse with short ruffled (RUFFLED!) sleeves and a bow at the neck, with her hair in a neat roll at the nape of her neck. She reminded me of the archetypal spunky female reporter from old black and white movies, the kind that drinks with the fellas, talks fast and says things like "Say! What gives?"

Sabrina enjoyed having her hair mauled by Captain Geritol while wearing a bright blue, red and white Wavy Gravy-looking sack with bat-wing sleeves and one exposed shoulder. Does she own one single normal-looking garment? Speaking of shoulders, Amber showed up at the Jitter Joint on Thursday in a fluffy off-the-shoulder bright blue pirate blouse with black leopard print, a tight short mini, and hookerish high heels. She just really wants her bosses to see her vulva, doesn't she? And her blonde hair was twined around her head in French braids like some kind of demented milkmaid. Let's hope Professor Gerbil is lactose intolerant!

A special thanks to Richard P. for his recent donation. Richard, I tried to email you, but it came back as undeliverable. I appreciate your readership and support!

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Liza's coffee courtesy of Speeder & Earls, Burlington, VT.

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