Friday Feature

[dreamcatchings]

As suggested by z_squared82, I shuffled over to the Neiman Marcus website (which has a little yellow butterfly herald that appears on my Netscape Explorer tab...gag me) and nearly died. Once I regained consciousness, I decided that here was a very apt place for me indeed.

Our first little number takes Cher's Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves a little literally. I'm less appalled by the individual garments, but I am completely shocked by their decision to put them all on this very Fiona Applish model. Ruffles in kelly green do not belong on anyone over six years old and not living in a bonny little house in Ireland. They only get away with it because it's quaint and they're all drunk anyway. (I'm Irish. It's true. I'm allowed.) The top is velvet. Velvet. A velvet chami, which simply smacks of Victorian-era hookers. Watch out for Jack the Ripper, my dear, I'm pretty sure you're channeling him. And to complete it all, there's the wool coat. The very demure, prudish looking coat. This outfit is for the hooker who has decided to turn a new leaf but can't figure out how. The color choices are abysmal separately but the ensemble is what really makes me cringe. Someone go get Moses. We need something parted.

Maybe this site simply specializes in high culture, which could be something I don't understand but still. I think everyone should be able to agree with me that this outfit is badly paired. The shirt isn't that bad, really. Not when you get right down to it. The butterfly wing-esque panels of lace that stretch across the breast region (or would be breast region on Twiggy II here) is an odd placement choice, but the shirt is not without a certain charm. The neck line is nice, the color is a good offset for her natural (ha tanning bed ha) skin color. My major problem is the skirt. I admit to holding a grudge against brocade clothing. You see, brocade is one of those fancy fabrics the French employed a lot when making curtains, chair coverings, chest coverings, pillows, etc. Brocade is naturally fairly heavy, gaudy and, well, it tends to drape in nice creases. I don't believe it should be worn although I will give the designer some credit in that he did not opt for some of the hideous designs I have seen plastered across brocade before. But the skirt still has the look of a lampshade or window dressing. It also neither matches nor contrasts with the top enough. It has a rather sickly yellow color to it, which is carried over (albeit in a slightly darker shade) onto the pattern. It has a rather boarding school girl look to it with pairs rather incongruously with the flirty, off the shoulder top.

I'm gonna call this the flamengo dancer from hell. Too many creases, ruffles, lacings, zomg piping in the back and a detail on the skirt that makes it most closely resemble fish scales makes me question whether or not this outfit is animal friendly. And the shirt is the little piece of fabric who couldn't get it together.

There aren't even any words for this attrocity. The poor thing looks like something smeared a bad Monet rip-off all over her.

Belt buckles aren't just for Texans anymore. This combines sleeze with demure. Or tries to and then falls flat on its face. The top wants to be sheer and yet poufy at the same time, which is clearly an indication that it, like so many recent fashion blunders, is suffering from the dreaded split personality syndrome. Unfortunately, the syndrome could not be contained and quickly spread into the skirt, despite the best efforts of the belt buckle of doom. Tragically both the model and the outfit had to be put down mere seconds after this picture was taken. And then all the remains were burned. Twice. And then once more just to make sure the evil was dead.

Somebody call Reed Richards because we found his boring office attire. This outfit really isn't all that bad. It's actually kind of nice just, you know, kinda boring and nondescript, which makes me wonder why it costs upwards of $1500. I'm actually rather fond of the semi-pleated white shirt. Except for the fact that the sleeves and color are attached to the mundane cable-knit vest. Ah, shortcuts.

If this is what Europe is wearing, I'm staying home. Um, yeah, velvet = Victorian hooker. We've been through this before. The top is interesting and maybe passable if you're blind or your Molly Ringwald's poor character from Pretty in Pink making your own clothes out of discarded curtains, bedding and whatever you can pull out of the dump. Let's send this chick to Good Will before her shirt eats her.

Bavaria, bavaria, we pledge our heart to thee. Unfortunately, eyes can barely endure the new dress code. There are so many mind-boogling elements that have been pieced together in this that I have no idea where to start except to roll around on the floor laughing at the sheer, mind crushing ugliness.

God, please save us sinners from Bohemia. I mean, really. This pattern is seizure inducing and then some.

Wow. Weird Al called and he wants his polka dots back. So he can burn them before they take over the earth.

This is just cruel. People should stop playing tricks on the color blind. They can't help the fact that, you know, they don't know any better. The details on the jacket itself it somewhat cute in a "ZOMG a giant bug monster ate all my other clothes and left me with this jacket" kind of way. I hate the skirt, and I do not get the itty, bitty belly shirt stashed beneath all the green.

I'm going to end with this because, really, nothing could possible be as ugly as the multi-colored leopard skin adorning this woman's body. Nothing. And if I find anything that is, I'm going to have to dig my eyes out with a grapefruit spoon.