Each week, I review one hundred looks, half of which induce
the phonetic uh-mey-zing and half of which induce more violent vomit than the
night Jake chose Vienna. With this series (translation: the cool, the rotten), you
will ascertain, via my eyes, why an ensemble should spend an evening as your
apparel or why an ensemble should spend an evening inside a nondescript box
whose ultimate destination is the Salvation Army.
Jessica Alba absolutely enraptures me as she exquisitely melds refined; a sumptuous red dress, black and gold tote, and black heels; and rocker, a fierce leather jacket and oversized cat sunnies.
Shenae Grimes and Jessica Stroup, 9-0-2-1-Oh Hell No as the actress upon the left, who once portrayed a transient, disgusts in a shirt she obviously swiped from someone sleeping upon Third and Olive's corner, while the actress upon the right, whose next project's centerpiece is a talking bear, abhorrently pairs a top was once a Massillion-Washington junior's memento and a skirt which was once a lamp shade inside a home upon the corner of Lillian Gish Boulevard and Lincoln Way East.
