But somehow Leelee Sobieski comes off looking not like a nice young actress, but rather somebody's wicked stepmother from a 1980s soap -- one on which, say, she just married Morgan Fairchild's father in a scandalous February-to-December union, and so we are treated to a number of scenes in which Morgan slinks around the house teasing up her hair and sneering, "Hello, MOTHER," as Leelee swans by in a cloud of linebacker shoulder pads and billowing sleeves. I'm pretty sure there would be a part in it for Emma Samms also, with the occasional appearance by Young Pierce Brosnan as a corporate rogue with dollar-signs in his eyes and fur-covered handcuffs in his heart.
And while that show would be awesome, that ship has probably sailed, so Leelee might need to go ahead and put away the bathrobe before she's relegated to playing a young Meredith Baxter-no-longer-Birney in a Lifetime movie about all the Lifetime movies she's made.
Si. Fuggian's
"Yeah, that's right, I'm Mischa Barton and I'm wearing a bathroom rug as a jacket. What of it? You'd rather I had another greasepig boyfriend with me instead? A total clap-incubator who's about to pass out on a pool of vomit he freshly delivered onto my feet? I DIDN'T THINK SO. Bet the coat's not looking so bad to you NOW."
Gird your loins -- with Iron Man hitting theaters this weekend, we're going to continue seeing a lot of Gwyneth Paltrow.
And I do mean a lot. Gwynnie must've gone on a Gam Rediscovery Retreat recently, because she's been skipping all around town in the kind of short skirts we're more used to seeing ride up around the pantyless pelvises of Young Hollywood as they slide out of cars.
Not that it's all a complaint. The girl's got great legs. It's just that I'm not always sure about the stuff she's using to show them off to us.
It's short, but more distracting is all the lattice work. Like, is there a nude slip under there, or is she just feeling naked and racy today? Am I bewitched by an optical illusion, or is it cutting her chest weirdly around her armpits and making her look unnaturally bulgey in places where, in reality, she almost certainly has no bulge? Doesn't that Bermuda Triangle of fabric on her groin make it look like she's wearing a black cloth diaper? And is there a weird face staring at me from her boobular region? And In concept I wanted to love this, but in life, it's like wearing a Rorschach ink blot. I feel like people were coming up to her all night and saying, "Ooh, it's death! The Angel of Death!" or "I see a Rolls Royce!" or "Is that a DOG that looks like Princess Leia?"
Fugprete HousefugsI feel like I see Andrea Bowen more on the red carpet than I do on Desperate Housewives lately, which is a shame, because she's cute on the show. I imagine she'd like a little more screen time, too, hence this call for help:
Oh, girl. Somehow you look like you stumbled into a Lifetime Movie in which you play Sharon Lawrence's pregnant teen daughter, who insists on attending her prom despite the pearl-clutching protests of the school board. Pregnant Prom Queen, let's call it. The teen father, of course, will turn out to be a lout, but Sharon will find love in the arms of Bruce Boxleitner, the high school principal who goes to bat for Andrea despite his disapproval of premarital sex. All of which would make an entertainingly cheesetastic movie, but as a fashion choice on a young, pretty, slender actress, it MIGHT be a mistake.
Fugs Of Our Lives
Well, I've arrived. I knew I was eyeing real-estate in the neighborhood of My, These Kids Today, but it appears I've bought land and am getting ready to build my dream house there, complete with a porch on which I can sit in a rocking chair and scream at the local urchins through a bullhorn.
Meet Ashley Benson, formerly of Days Of Our Lives and currently doing a TV movie about Texas cheerleaders who go nuts, or something equally terrible-sounding that I will totally watch:
Navy is a wonderful color, but what's up with wanting to look like a laundry pile? I mean, sure, some of my clothes have taken that shape, but only when they're lying on the floor next to my hamper, waiting for me to remember to take them to the dry-cleaner. Perhaps there are some ads on her back for Milt & Edie's Professional Cleaning, or some killer coupons people are encouraged to clip throughout the night.
Of course, maybe I'm just old and crotchety on this Friday afternoon, and she looks totally fine and it's all just artsy and stylistic and cool. So while I personally would like to take a steamer to the skirt and then see what we're left with, I'll throw it up to a vote while I retreat to my front porch and get ready to chase some ragamuffins with a rolled-up newspaper.
