Friday, July 13, 2012

Les Chic, Les Chien (Week Three)

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.

Something about Channing Tatum screams delicious, enticing, and scrumptious. I can't even begin to explain the perfection he flaunts. Who doesn't love a man in a crisp, black dress shirt with simple gray slacks and black belt. Don't forget to admire those stunning looks; the eyes, the hair, the muscles... ;) YUM! Good work, Channing! 

Mother eff! Really Annie! I hate to toss you under the bus right now, but I'm seriously confused with your current ensemble. Please do all of us a favor and grow your hair back out. In the mean time, toss that hideous looking dress. It looks like my little cousin puked her spaghetti up all over you. So not ideal.