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April 27, 2007

A Moment Like Fug

I hate to kick a girl when she's having wardrobe trouble, especially when it's happening at an event that's for a very good cause and especially when it's Kelly Clarkson. But we don't want to violate Kelly's trust -- we like to think of ourselves as good girlfriends, and good girlfriends tell you when you need to go back inside and try on something else.

If only Kelly had invited her good girlfriends to the Idol Gives Back show (the logo for which somehow just makes me want to bake crescent rolls, or cookies-from-a-tube), because she needed a firm shove back toward the closet.

Kelly, Kelly, Kelly. You have officially veered away from poorly thought-out flowy dresses and straight into muumuu territory.

Do you see the look on Jeff Beck's face? He is giving the evil eye to your stylist, indicating that she had better not cross either of you again or else she will wake up one day with his haircut. Jeff knows, as we do, that you're a lovely girl with a voice that could make an inanimate object smile, and there is no reason you should be carelessly draped in fabric that makes you look both heavy and squat. Now, I get that maybe your shape is changing, for whatever reason, and that's fine -- that's life. Listen, we've all been there. I had to give up potato chips for Lent for a reason, and I'm sorry, Mom, I love you very much, but I must confess that reason had zero to do with piety and everything to do with the fact that for me, "Bet You Can't Eat Just One" refers not to one chip but one bag. I am a salt-food,  junk-food junkie -- me and Cliff Huxtable -- and I have totally looked in the mirror some days and wondered if my hips could just please find a way to lie just a little bit longer. However, I actually think you and your pretty eyes and that shiny hair look gorgeous. I want to hug you for not losing 30 pounds just to fit into hot pants and then claiming you have no idea how you lost the weight because you have no time to exercise, and so the brand-new muscle tone all over your frame must have therefore appeared by magic. This is not about you not rocking just the way you are. (You do.) What it is about is somebody deciding to give up and just throw any old thing on you to hide your hips. You should be working those curves, not burying them.

So go home and put on some Right Said Fred and dance comfortably knowing you're too sexy for your caftan, and start fresh tomorrow.

Posted by Heather at 08:54 AM | Permalink

 

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