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May 15, 2007

Fugora Hardin

Lately, it feels like anything I pick up in Forever 21 is of that weird length where I can't tell if it's intended as a longish shirt, or a really short and potentially genitally thrilling dress. And then yesterday I walked past a Bebe store and realized the people who work there are having similar problems, and just chucked stuff on the mannequins both ways to cover their bases.

Melora Hardin may have been gripped by a similar dilemma.

This satiny scarf thing is billowing along that blurry line between dress and shirt, and I feel for Melora, because I bet nobody really had an answer for her as to which it's meant to be. I suspect I'd have gone with "shirt," because I generally don't love wearing things that make me afraid to sit down, for fear of catching something. But if I had decided my legs were ready for extreme public consumption, I'd probably have ditched the plastic-looking red slides in favor of some better, hotter-looking shoes.

Mostly, though, I think our choices with this outfit would have diverged right at the beginning, in that I would have run screaming in the other direction from this cruel, garish fabric version of a Rorscharch test. Simply put, it frightens the bejeesus out of me, and generally speaking, I would prefer to hang onto my bejeesus whenever possible. All I see when I look at this is an angry hot-pink bunny with Satanic fury burning in his one red eye while her belt tries to choke him out, and all that makes my brain start hurting. Melora is way too pretty to be skipping around with a garroted Lucifer Cottontail on her chest, trying desperately to buy a few last souls before being sliced in half. And I am way too wussy to want this image cavorting through my nightmares. Let's pray she burns it.

Posted by Heather at 01:14 PM | Permalink

 

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