I think Debbieborah Gibson is moonlighting as a showgirl named Spangles.
Yesterday was Spangles' nighttime outfit -- the garb of a woman who, say, does her routines to "Eternal Flame" because it ends in a showstopping move wherein her loins actually do catch fire. Yet I prefer Spangles the Bikini-Zone Arsonist to Spangles The White-Out Sniffer:
How extreme are your hallucinations if you can wear this without getting a migraine?
This is Spangles' daytime look, which she wears because she thinks it gives her soccer-mom respectability for when she drops the kids off at school, although all the other mothers totally know what her nighttime gig is and although they hide it, they hate her for thinking she can blend in by wearing a loudly printed caftan-like dress just because there is only a TINY and RESPECTABLE bit of fringe hanging from the bottom of it. The half-hearted sequins are an especially festive touch, almost like she started trying to spice up the dress but got bored midway through.
She's turned into a dress what a sexagenarian would wear as a shirt. Blanche Devereaux, for instance, would have (and probably did, once) paired this with billowing silver slacks, which -- while enjoying her dating exploits with "eligible men" sporting questionable mustaches -- would have made us wonder privately, as always, whether we are all doomed to this style of dress once we hit our sixties. Which is to say, this thing is ugly at any age, but Debbieborah and her alter ego are way too young to try and sneak a half-caftan -- a halftan? -- past us.