I'm gonna have to borrow that

It was seven years ago this past Sunday when a then more Angelina Angelina Jolie snubbed Oscar's evening gown tradition and stole one of the night's top style slots with her unexpected white Dolce & Gabbana tuxedo and slicked back chignon.

Now, I don't much remember the acrylic French tips or Uncle Eddie slip-ons, but I choose to chalk those egads up to a combination of just having left the '90s and Miss Thing probably kicking off her heels in the limo during her and Billy Bob's "good luck" ritual only to accidentally grab his albino eelskin kicks by mistake on her way out.

But anyway, back to that unorthodox red carpet selection we were discussing...

I loved it then, I love it now, and I really love that at an Oscar after-party this year, Sharon Stone took a day off from torturing the people at PETA (rat paw brooches don't count, right?) to honor a look we see far too infrequently on the red carpet.


As I've professed too many times to link you to, whether it be January or June, Tuesday afternoon or Saturday night, with my parents in Michigan or out with my ladies in the District, I am a skirt and dress only kinda girl. Aside from the three pairs of jeans in red, black and blue hanging neatly in the back of my closet that are liberated really only when the dry-cleaning schedule and my wardrobe rotation hit an unforeseen snag, the only two-legged items in my non-workout wardrobe are the many, many pairs of opaque tights clogging the top three drawers of my poor, dickered dresser.

You'll share in my surprise, then, when I discovered that the singular trend, color, collection, piece or person that has most influenced me this past month was none other than the dramatic dress trouser (DDT).

To be honest, the reason why I spent the majority of my shopping time in New York two weekends ago fruitlessly trying on pair after pair of high-waisted black tuxedo trousers is more rooted in my being attracted to the drama a DDT entrance offers its wearer than anything else.

I know, I know, many of you are probably reading this and thinking, "Wow, dress pants. That's exciting," but believe me when I tell you how rare it is to find a woman, celebrity or otherwise, who is willing to go this route in a formal situation. Rarer still is to find one who does so and executes it well. Designers and boutique owners recognize this reticence among women and design and stock accordingly each season. I didn't draw up metrics on this, but I'm confident in asserting that after clicking through nearly every designer's most recent RTW collection and squinting through every "Look of the Day" thumbnail from InStyle from today back through last July, there is at most one pair of black-tie worthy dress trousers for every 15-20 similarly formal gowns.

These odds don't mean, however, any woman wearing any ol' pair of black pants at a formal event is destined to make it into the ranks of the best-dressed simply by virtue of her having taken a risk. In fact, in my opinion, it is much more difficult to assemble a great outfit of this sort than it is to choose a great dress. With the former, one has to worry about the blouse and/or jacket, the super tall heel (don't even think about wearing flats here) and choosing an equally dramatic hair and makeup palette around which the final product will be tied. With a dress, really what it comes down to for most women is (1) is it pretty? (2) is it comfortable? and (3) will it make me look thinner?

After summoning the courage to set the skirt aside at the next social function on your calendar, the first challenge is to find the right pair of DDTs, a task I now know is a whole lot easier in theory than it is in practice. If you're an online shopper like I almost exclusively am, the process becomes frustrating fast. Typical mid-priced dress trouser haunts like J. Crew, Banana Republic and Club Monaco are much more often misses than hits because nothing in their inventories qualifies as anything dressier than office-wear. Your best bet to find the cuts and fabrics meant for fancy evenings out are in boutiques, department stores and high-end vintage stores. If money were no object, I'd shoo you over to Relish in Cady's Alley or Nordstrom in Tysons Galleria.

In my current recuperative state, I don't foresee any opportunity in the near future to debut the dress trousers of my (adjusted for financial situation) dreams, which is probably a good thing, considering I haven't cut enough budget corners in the past two months to appropriate them.

In the meantime, if I might tempt some of you into ditching the cocktail dress you planned to wear to your next best friend's wedding for something a bit more unconventional...

Oscar de la Renta RTW
Fall 2008
Barbara Tfank RTW
Spring 2008
Bill Blass RTW
Spring 2008

Givenchy Haute Couture
Spring 2008
Charlize Theron
Hedi Slimane for Dior Homme

The pose you can expect to see on my Christmas card

But because I'm not so much a St. John's girl, I'm thinking this dress, and because I try oh-so-hard to be ironic, this locale (the steep staircase by the back bar immediately springs to mind), and because I'm in love with my legs and would want to show off these shoes, this pose with the little guy just to my left, patrician as ever, looking up at me in a vexed, "Mum, who are these plebians in pleat-front chinos, and why are they taking our picture?" expression.

As easily as I could sit here all day and come up with melodramatic idea after melodramatic idea for our holiday photo, ultimately there's no real point, for all these decisions - and any and all decisions, really - are subject to His final and very fickle approval.

Oh, the joy of being puppy-whipped...

As if we needed *another* reason to love her...

Back in her signature red carpet color after a bizarre and in my view unflattering turn in canary yellow three weekends ago in Cannes, Angelina Jolie looked all sorts of beautiful last night in New York City at the premiere of her new film, A Mighty Heart, in this crushed velvet deep-V-neck, V-back, tea-length vintage wrap dress.

But this is no ordinary vintage piece. This isn't an on-loan Valentino or Balmain or Bill Blass. This isn't a frock some stylist saw in a look-book and had private-jetted straight to the Jolie-Pitt's Hollywood Hills home. No, this is quite the opposite, this is a little something Angie picked up herself last week at famed L.A. vintage haunt The Wasteland on Melrose Avenue for less money than I spend in a work-week at Cosi on make-your-own salads.

That's right, a woman who could've worn anyone's anything to the premiere of what she calls "the most important film" she's ever been a part of, chose to wear crystal-heeled Louboutin peep toes, a price-upon-request (on-loan) Frances Klein diamond brooch and a $26 dress.

I know I go on and on about how great vintage is, but it's not just the dress or the skirt or the shoes or even the great price but the quest for the dress and the fact you're wearing something some other woman wore on the best night of her life back on December 9, 1959 that makes the vintage experience so inherently special.

For more pics of Angelina breaking all kinds of convention - velvet in June? aging Upper East Side socialite updo? even more gorgeous at a two-inch distance? genuinely happy Hollywood relationship? - see below:

*yes, I'm aware FOX News was banned from last night's event per Angelina's request, and yes, I'm still working through my feelings on that. For now, let's just focus on the pretty dress and the fact she might have finally eaten something (see first picture)

P-E-R-F-E-C-T

After seeing these arrival pictures of Brad and Angelina at the Cannes Film Festival premiere of her new film, A Mighty Heart, I decided to take back every negative comment I've ever made about Angelina's pretentiousness.

These two simply take my breath away. And I'm not talking about how objectively good-looking they are as individuals - that's a given - but rather how good they look together. These two reach a level of class Hollywood hasn't seen since the days of of Bogart and Bacall, Tracy and Hepburn, and Ford and Hayworth. Even the subtle intimacy of their body language - the protective double-hand hold, the small-of-the-back circular rub, the nape-of-the-neck clasp while leaning in for a make-her-laugh whisper - has about it a sweet, genuinely-in-love contentedness. This is a couple that, when I look at them I think, "That's what I want. Not a slice of that, not most of that, not almost that -- I want that." And that, one day, I'll have. Again.

These two are reluctant movie stars. These are people who have more pressing and frankly more meaningful pursuits in their back pockets, but for at least one night, for one red-carpet-walk, they'll say "f**k it" and give in to all that is indulgent and fancy and glamorous about their industry. There will always be orphanages and refugee camps to worry about tomorrow, but tonight, it's time to kick off the motorcycle helmets and black t-shirts and usher in the A-list crowd with some Armani Privé.

There's no getting around the fact that Angie is at present frail-thin. Looking at pictures of her from the set of the first Tomb Raider film, it's clear she's unfortunately shed a good 10-15 pounds in recent years. And as much as fashion designers might think otherwise, the thinner a woman gets does not a better fit make. Therefore, I'm impressed with Angie's choice to wear this vintage Balmain couture black lace shift with chiffon straps and satin ribbon cinch. Not only is it simple and elegant but the straight-up-and-down cut also serves to add some much needed curves, invented as they may be, to her frame.

Angie's accessories are also spot-on. The simple peeptoe sets a sophisticated tone but allows the intricate pattern on the lace to be the rightful showpiece of the ensemble. With her hair in a half-upsweep, pearl-and-diamond drop earrings in their contrasting ivory hue was the perfect choice, because even though the dress is beautiful, it is not on its own particularly show-stopping. The bit of sparkle, not to mention the fabulous eye makeup and bad-girl tatts polish off the look nicely.

As for Brad...well, when you're standing next to Angie, there's only so much you can do.

Only hours earlier, Angelina also looked the pretty part (get a load of her close-up!) of Hollywood's sexiest mum in a mocha netted-neck matte-silk belted Elie Tahari blouse, slim black pencil skirt and the same trusty black satin peeptoes at a press event for A Mighty Heart:

Quote of the day: Angelina Jolie

"I could be dressed up in the sexiest outfit for a photo shoot, and by his behavior, he'll let me know that's nice, but it's nothing as sexy as when I'm reading books [and] educating myself. "

(Angelina Jolie in response to the question, "What does Brad find sexy?")

Okay, this is getting ridiculous.

Maybe this is a guy-to-girl attraction I don't quite understand, but in my experience, watching your lover "educate" herself - at least in the context Angie implies - is hardly what I would consider a woman's zenith of sexiness.

In fact, in my last relationship, the most I-think-I'm-going-to-put-my-clothes-back-on moments I can recall were those when J would slip in any one of the Volumes I-XII of his Ancient Rome CD-ROM box set into his laptop and every few minutes shout out things like, "I totally thought that was Pericles, not Thucydides, go figure! Hon, did you see this? Didn't you think it was Pericles, too?"

No I didn't see it, and no, I didn't think it was whomever-you-just-said, I would reply without really knowing about what he was asking. And I wouldn't know because I was too busy watching my ladybit wave a surrender flag and dividing my time equally between "America's Next Top Model" and "Super Obese: I Eat 33,000 Calories a Day."

Smarts are sexy, there's no doubt about that. Some might argue the sexiest part of a person's allure. Professors and senior analysts at think-tanks wouldn't be getting as much out-of-their-league ass as they do if this weren't the case. But the process through which people must go to get to the point where they're considered experts - comps, study groups, overnighters in the library fueled by Diet Red Bull and Cool Ranch Doritos - this, better known as "educating oneself," is hardly arousing. Tell me, when was the last time you walked by SAIS, saw a 130lb guy highlighting a Keohane book on neoliberalism and bandied with the idea of offering him "a hand" with his um, game theory? The answer is never, because it doesn't happen. But take that same guy, 15 years down the road giving a talk at Brookings on his own ideas on international cooperatives, and well, yeah, I'd pull a Rachel Weisz in The Constant Gardner and take him home post-lecture post-haste, too.

But back to Angie. I love her. I respect her. And if there was anyone in Hollywood with whom I would switch places in a heartbeat, after Katie Holmes, it would be her. That's why these past couple of pretentious statements she's made are so devastating to me. The last thing I want this temptress to turn into is a takes-herself-so-seriously-she-might-as-well-look-like-Kathy-Bates blowhard like Jennifer Connelly. Then again, there could be a double-standard going on here. Maybe I wouldn't find Angie's above statement so preposterous if she didn't look the way she does.

Call me superficial, but when I look at her in something like she's wearing above or in get-up like this, the last thing I'd want her to do to really get me in the mood is bring up Israeli airstrikes or pick up the latest issue of The Far Eastern Economic Review.

Quote of the day: Angelina Jolie

Reader's Digest: "Do you and Brad ever have a conflict or a fight? "

Angelina: "No, not really. [But] we’ll get into issues about global events or something that was just on the news."

Okay fine, it might be a tad highfalutin of the Shark Tale and Original Sin actress to imply the only negativity in Brad's and her relationship involves differing views on refugee camp logistics and clean water initiatives, but still, LOOK AT THEM, if that quote is even half true, it's just one more reason to fantasize about slipping into that relationship "Girls-Next-Door"-style.

And no, I wouldn't be Kendra -- I'm a Holly all the way.

Angelina started young

"I was very sexual in kindergarten. I was a member of a group called the Kissy Girls. I created a game where I'd kiss the boys and give them all cooties. Then we'd make out and we'd take our clothes off. I got in trouble a lot."

(Angelina Jolie in the latest issue of Britain's OK! Magazine)

It makes sense if you think about it.

An effortless, obvious-to-everyone-who-even-looks-at-her primal sexuality like Angie's isn't something that develops over time but rather is so organically a part of her personality she probably just discovered it one day when she crossed her legs a little too tightly in the middle of her teacher's reading of Hatchet.

And then again during spelling class. And the next day during her fractions test.

What's that, kindergarten doesn't have spelling and fractions?

My bad, I must be thinking of some other precocious little thing...

Angelina makes old-woman clothes look good

It was revealed on Friday that St. John would re-up its contract with the lovely Angelina Jolie after her first year as spokeswoman saved their image from the isn't-that-the-sh*t-Bea-Arthur-wore-on-'Golden-Girls'? hole it had dug itself through years and years of dressing thick boring women like Hillary Clinton and Madeleine Albright in their navy and oatmeal knits.

Oh, and Angie also helped earn the company a place in the $400 million club. That might have something to do with it, too.

I'm pretty convinced these pictures from her first campaign are fraudulent (i.e. what a DC housewife sees certainly isn't what she's gonna get), but whether they are or aren't, I can't deny the warm flush that comes over me when I look at them.

Ladies and gentlemen, the undisputed hottest mother of four children under the age of five:

Now that we can FINALLY bear arms

In case you didn't hear, Friday was a big day for gun lovers in DC.

The US Court of Appeals for the DC Circuit struck down the District's strict gun control law on Second Amendment grounds, and as a result, I'm now allowed to not only liberate my Israeli-made holster from a fire-proof safety deposit box in Michigan but my best-graduation-present-ever Walther PPK as well.

I wasn't going to muse about this legislation, but well, Goldfinger is on right now on the Encore-Action channel, and I just can't help myself.

Before all of you clipboard-toting Obama-ites get on my case for mingling politics with fashion critique, I'll have you know there are no two-legged, opposably-thumbed children in my place of residence, nor will there be any live ammunition. My old-school James Bond gun may be, as a crusty old Marine with whom I work told me, "a fu**in' good piece to kill a motherfu**er with at close range," but were I to actually bring my handed-down darling to the District, it would solely be for those Sunday afternoons when I piled myself into an SUV stacked with fresh-off-the-Iraq reservation contractors itching for a few hours in rural Virginia with a briefcase full of (licensed) semi-automatics and a stack of $.20 Bin Laden targets.

The obvious question that begs to be asked and answered, then, is this: "what does a fashionable girl wear when she's off to the range?"

Do I break my iron-clad no-jeans-and-sneakers rule?

Do I go for the Angie a-la Tombraider look?

Do I opt for the extended clip even though loading the extra bullets almost always ruins my cuticles?

In my view, the shooting range, whether indoor or outdoor, is a venue that falls outside my urban fashion guidelines. In other words, when I'm spending upwards of $50 on ammunition alone, my time better be spent getting better, not looking better.

I recommend jeans, of course, but not skinny jeans, not straight-leg jeans, and not anything nicer or pricier than your sole pair of wouldn't-mind-getting-'em-irreparably-soiled jeans.

As for footwear, it's a coin-toss between sneakers and boots, though I tend to favor the former because I find my taking-it-from-the-hip timing to be considerably faster when I have a less restrictive, more cushioned foundation.

Up top, depending on the weather (remember, the deeper into Virginia red country you go, the colder it gets), I'd either wear my thinnest, faded-to-gray purple MTV tee on its own or coupled with my children's size alma mater sweatshirt. More so than below the belt, a shooter's upper body needs to be agile and unrestricted, a tougher-than-you'd-think equilibrium achieved only through a not-too-tight and not-too-loose upper body garment.

As for how to wear your hair, if you're serious about hitting Bin Laden in the larynx at 10 meters with a body pistol, you'd better ponytail it like a Marine: high and tight.

And just because you're in the sticks doesn't excuse you from the makeup basics of mascara, concealer and bronzer. There's no need for foundation, cream-based shadow or eyeliner, but just because you're packing a PPK and not a briefcase doesn't change the fact that you're still a woman and you're still leaving your front door.

Once you've got the gun, the ammo, the look, and your own bevy of private mercenary instructors at your disposal, you're almost there.

The last steps are getting that NRA membership card and a custom pair of Lara Croft thigh-holsters or Bandidas-esque high-waisted ass-less chaps.

Or both.

How would it look?

If I could put together my ideal face, it would have Scarlett's eyes, Angie's nose and cheekbones, and Jessica Biel's forehead and hairline.

Okay fine, I sneaked my lips in there, but it was only because the readership demanded it!

Yes, it is a complete coincidence that the three celebrities featured here are the only three to have been dubbed "the Sexiest Woman Alive" by Esquire Magazine.

And yes, my lips are humbled in their forehead's, eyes' and nose's presence.