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Fashion/Style
by
Liza Van Horne
June 17, 2008
Dear readers, is there a Renaissance Faire going on
in Genoa City at the moment? Is Lauren manning a
booth that sells upscale corsets and pirate shirts?
I ask because on Friday, she looked fully ready to
dance in bare feet around a bonfire with castanets
a-clicking in her gauzy tye-dyed skirt and yellow
off-the-shoulder peasant blouse, with a low-slung
brown braided leather belt. One detail she did get
right was the fact that her hair doesn't look like
it's been washed in about a year--just like in the
olden days when people tripped around the Maypole,
hoisted huge mugs of mead and defecated in the
streets. Ye Olde Damsel Fenmore! All she needed were
some giant hoop earrings and a scarf around her head
and she'd be all set for fortune telling.
Lauren has definitely eclipsed Sharon as the most
urgently in need of a hair intervention. At the
Little Shop of Horrors yesterday, the crown of her
head was so ratted you could actually see through
that spider web of crusty crap. It's like she feels
the need for an extra six inches of height on the
back of her skull. I don't know how she manages to
comb through it, all teased like that. It probably
sounds like someone ripping up carpet when she
brushes her hair, not that she ever does.
Her dress on Monday freaked me out. It was a tight
black one-shouldered number with a big gaping cutout
slit directly over her smashed-together cleavage.
Like everyone in Genoa City wants a front row seat
to that show. I kept feeling the urge to
stick a pencil in there and see if it stayed in
place.
Victoria certainly doesn't tease her hair. In fact,
Victoria doesn't do jack shit to her hair other than
to shove it in a ponytail like she's going to the
gym. That style seemed a little casual for the
fitted black short-sleeved suit she was wearing in
the office the day that Gloria "Smokey Bear"
Bardwell almost burned down the boutique. On Friday,
Victoria was wearing a white summer dress with a
yellow cabbage rose pattern that made her look like
Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm on her way to a tea
party. Her hair was pulled back from the temples in
two twists, like I used to wear mine in the ninth
grade. Oddly enough, Sabrina had the same
hairstyle--two strands twisted and pulled back off
her face. Is that supposed to be symbolic and
meaningful?! Ooooh, somebody write me a compelling
five-paragraph essay about the deeper subtext of the
matching hairdos!
Father's Day was past Sunday, and speaking of
Captain Geritol himself, what was with that navy
pinstriped shirt he was wearing? Does he ever look
in a mirror? That shirt was utterly paunchariffic.
When standing, he looked like he was in his second
trimester--but once he sat down he appeared to have
a watermelon straining at his buttons! Somebody get
that guy some Spanx, pronto.
Nikki looked better than she has in weeks on Friday
in a slimming, fitted black dress with short sleeves
and a low scooped neck. Her hair wasn't as stiff as
usual, either; it was flipped but not lacquered into
place. Why don't they let her wear simple,
streamlined things more often instead of bundling
her up to within an inch of her life in boxy belted
jackets?
Continuing on her karmic journey, the now-boring
woo-woo Jana was ready to join Victoria at that
aforementioned tea party in her boat-necked V-back
tunic top, which was white with a yellow floral
pattern and a sash around her waist that made a big
bow in back. In my opinion, no adult woman should
have a butt-bow. It's just wrong. Jana also had
matching lemon-yellow hair extensions and really,
she can stop any time with the color coordinated
hairpieces. It no longer seems quirky. It just seems
embarrassing.
Heather Stevens looked very cute on Friday in her
navy blue mock-turtleneck top with deep cutaway
armholes and a navy-and-white print skirt. Her hair
was pulled back into a wavy ponytail with tons of
volume. Adam opened up to her about his past while
wearing a plain white shirt and khaki twill sport
jacket that looked nice on him, but would look even
better off of him so we could get another
gander at his furry chest, which I find rather
refreshing in this age of overeager male waxing. I
do have one nitpick, though: he told Heather he
"grew up with" Cliff Wilson, which is patently
untrue--Cliff died when Adam was a baby. He would
have no memories of his stepfather. However, he
is a Newman, and his bio-daddy's sperm is potent
enough to impregnate a woman half his age despite
two vasectomies, so maybe the Newman men have
superpowers like remembering your entire life all
the way back to being a wriggling tadpole shooting
out of Daddy's kielbasa. Who knows!
Cheers? Jeers? Fashion archives? See below. |
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Liza's
coffee courtesy of
Speeder &
Earls, Burlington, VT.
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