Eye candy of the week

She may drink her own breast milk and be the kind to leave a Post-It in her friend's apartment reminding her to recycle, but with her asymmetrically shaved pixie and super lean runway frame, 24 year old Claire from NYC was the easy choice to be my prized pony for this, the tenth (!) installment of "America's Next Top Model."

Here, a video introduction:

It's so true what they say about typecasting. Luke Perry and Jennie Garth have grown up, gotten married, raised children, ridden bulls and danced the cha-cha-cha, but try as I may, these two together, even at some random event called "Chevy Rocks!", will always make me think first and foremost of Kelly's face after Brenda skewered her (in front of Dylan!) with the classic, "I was always taught that if it looks like a duck and walks like a duck…"

HRL, take note, Rihanna at last night's Brit Awards is your eye makeup blueprint for my "Jumpsuit Mandatory" birthday celebration. Tick tock, woman, get to practicing!

After enduring four straight days of not being able to avoid Lindsay Lohan's painfully unsexy attempt at recreating Marilyn's "Last Sitting" (not to mention her mother's insufferable interviews pertaining thereto), I've come up with an idea.

How about we take this young curvy thing here...
And make some Jayne Mansfield magic?
My favorite photo of Scott's this week captured all that I love about a well-dressed man: fitted, formal, polished and neat. The yellow accent of eccentricity, the silvery tousle and the Gucci boutique backdrop certainly don't hurt, either...

After I figure out the genesis behind Tommaso Aquilano and Roberto Rimondi's decision to anoint themselves "6267," I'm going to place at the tippy top of my wishlist their breathtaking take on the perfect formal showpiece coat.Or at least let it share top billing with this front-draped, skinny-cinched Bottega Veneta sheath...
...and this tiered one-sleeve Marni blouse peeking out from under this structured coat, which, if there's room, I might slide somewhere else in my top 10.
I know presidential politics are and should be rooted in substance, but let's suspend reason for a second and imagine how cool it would be if our First Family looked like this instead of this?

My ticket on the Megan Fox Express has long since expired -she's just too one-dimensional is what it comes down to- but holy wow, that's one hard to miss rib tatt she's got there. I don't really care what it says (if you do, click here), I'm just in awe of a woman with that little protective fat who chose the most painful part of the body on which to have a needle create not just a small fairy or the Chinese character for "serenity" but something of the that-must've-taken-a-good-45-minutes variety. Color me impressed, MegFo.

Eye candy of the week

What the heck, y'all seemed eager to eat all the candy last week, so I figured it'd be a good idea to pass some more out.

Enjoy.

If I were more into handbags, I'd jump for joy at finding this Kelly-style vintage bag. At only $70, even the price smacks of decades gone by...

I was recently asked who my favorite current designer was for a blogger profile, and my answer -part of it, anyway- was that, for clothing I can afford (when it's on-sale), I'm definitely all about Beth Blake and Melissa Akey for Thread Social right now. This is a look from their Spring/Summer RTW collection, and I'm already stalking TS's online vendors in anticipation of its debut.

This is the prettiest Vicky B. has looked in years. I could be wrong, but I think it may be her new wrist tatt that's responsible for her dare I say, almost friendly-looking glow...

We may have broken up after the disturbingly vacant appearances you gave during promo week for that awful movie I know you're regretting right about now, but Katie, doll, we'll always have your outfits. This one, I'm proud to say, looks awfully similar to what I put together every chilly Saturday afternoon. It has "walking 10 blocks to Penn Quarter" written all over it.

Like a soothing, drop-drop-fizz-fizz after the SAG Awards heartburn - Joy Bryant adds a touch of class to the head-shakingly bad fare on the Welcome Home Roscoe Jones red carpet.

The side view is just as good, no?

KimKar in quite possibly the ugliest swimsuit the Calypso outlet ever did sell. But for serious, who's even looking at the suit? Even Kim can't help but glance at her goodies and think, "Gotta admit, I'm a lucky, lucky lady..."

I wasn't in love with the cut of the colorblocked Calvin Klein gown Jamie-Lynn Sigler wore to the SAG Awards last Sunday, however...

...I do believe I have a new pair of shoulders to adore.

Speaking of disappointing SAG dresses, thank goodness Kate rebounded from her Harley-inspired Balmain number with this kicky cobalt Lanvin mini. *Love*.

And while we're on the topic of Lanvin, let me please lust over this pre-Fall peek at Alber's upcoming collection (photo courtesy of Ms. Spinach)

Not crazy about the embellished Herrera dress, not crazy about all the Godiva (I'm a Sunkist Fruit Gems girl) but Ali Larter, as always, is so well put-together I had no choice but to dub her a definite piece of "eye candy".

Starting the long weekend a day early

All,

Have a lovely long weekend, and be sure to check back on Tuesday for an exciting announcement!

best,
Johanna

This tease of Spring has me jonesin' for beachwear

For those of us whose lifestyles don't necessitate a separate section in our closet for the the kind of clothing one finds when they click on the now ubiquitous "resort wear" category, I admit, the first week in January is a wee bit early to already be thinking about in which bikinis, cover-ups and lightweight linen separates we'd like to be frolicking come that first weekend at the Shore in late Spring.

Given the 70+ degree temperatures we're all enjoying in the District today, however, I felt reasonably justified to show you at least a few pieces that have given me warm-weather fever over the past couple of weeks.

And really, you never know if and when you'll receive a text message from an old fling inviting you for a long weekend in Turks and Caicos the second week in February...

Enjoy!

Baker St. beach tote by Nam Kim
($78 at starsandinfinitedarkness.com)

Florida flat sandals by Rupert Sanderson
($485 at net-a-porter.com)

Tricot criss-cross bikini top and flat bikini bottoms by American Apparel
($25 for the top, $25 for the bottoms, americanapparel.net)Pleated tie-neck dress by Malene Birger
($348 at ronherman.com)

One piece suit by Mya

($165 at couturecandy.com)

Trumpet vine-print top by Marc by Marc Jacobs
($248 at shopbop.com)
High-waisted short by L.A.M.B.
($145 at shopbop.com)

Ring it in responsibly

And by that I mean...

...don't drink dry the Prosecco and leave your brother's friend's party with an overcompensatingly confident pocket-man. Trust;

...don't wear jeans and a chunky, ribbed turtleneck sweater -- be the one woman at the house party who doesn't look like she just RV-ed it over from a Big-10 tailgate. Come on ladies, vow to be the 'wow' even the happily married men can't help but stare at every time you enter the room;

....don't skip the eyeliner or second coat of mascara;

...don't delude yourself -- if it's too tight, it's too tight. Wear something that won't have you tugging, de-wrinkling, and pulling out puckers all evening;

...don't allow a sloppy, streaky-haired blonde in a sequined tube top to spill her too-full Jack-'n'-Coke on your Marchesa Notte tulle party dress. Identify this type right away and steer clear;

...don't go out without having listened to "Down in Mexico" and "Toy Soldier" (preferably while you pick out and slip on your matching unmentionables for a captive, man-in-chair audience);

...don't arrive at the party without a nice two-drink pre-party buzz, especially if where you're going is likely to have a more his-friends crowd;

...don't forget to eat at least one carb-enriched item before you head out (I have this one taped to my forehead and handbag);

...don't without-warning cry over a lost love and ruin everything for everyone (no matter what they tell you, you will kill the evening and it will be remembered);

and finally,

...don't whip out your camera phone to show every person you meet the 60-shot slide-show of the dog you "miss like a motherf**ker". If they don't know you, you will come off as the crazy dog lady.

I'll be in New York City tomorrow through Tuesday, so unfortch -as K would say- I won't be posting until two days into the new year. I double, no triple promise to miss all of you...except for maybe when I'm eye-banging one of my dream guys at King Cole Bar, or when S and I discover the meaning of life when we make our first pilgrimage to Mecca.

Kiss us into 2008, KimKar!

Technical difficulties

You know how sometimes when you write an e-mail and press "send" and get an error message that makes you realize all that you'd just composed was gone?

Well, Blogspot has been putting me through the blog post equivalent of that all evening.

So, I apologize, but you'll have to wait until tomorrow afternoon or early evening for my analytic paralleling of female 'Jeopardy' contestants and their couldn't-care-less appearances with DC women and their couldn't-care-less appearances.

It's a real "think" piece with big-picture implications, so stay tuned...

In my absence...

This is as good a time as any to let you all know that starting today, I will be out of blogging commission until Monday, November 26th. I'll be in New York City this weekend for shopping and divorce celebrating and then over to Mitten State Michigan the following week for some good old fashion stomach expanding.

Don't roll your eyes, BridalBird, as long as I've hit the gym beforehand, I can clean-plate homemade stuffing and cranberry sauce like a brand-new, thousand-dollar Dyson.

But anyway, the main point of this post it to let y'all know that if you're one of the lucky ones still in the District next Tuesday, be sure to check out fEMME fETE's annual Holiday Designer Gift Fair from 6:30 to 10:30 at the Four Seasons in downtown Georgetown.

I've received numerous e-mails in the past week asking for tips on good girlfriend gifts, and without a doubt, this will be one of the best, if not the best place to pick up reasonably-priced, unique presents for all the women on your shopping list.

Tickets are available in advance on fEMME fETE's website (recommended) and at the door for $30, a price that includes complimentary glasses of wine.

So...on that note, have a wonderful, indulgent-but-not-too-indulgent holiday, and I will see you back here in just over a week.*

air kiss,
Johanna & the 'Squieu

*I think we both know this is bullsh*t -- more likely than not, I'll post something in the interim

Because looking at her makes me happy (UPDATED again)

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

To see a bah'um no number of bathroom squats could create...

...tune in tonight to the KimKar ass parade show I've been waiting for what seems like forever to fill up my television screen.

After you've had a sobering 53-minute dose of relationship reality from my recent obsession on HBO, be sure to perk back up with "Keeping Up with the Kardashians," 10:30 EST on the E! Network.

My Fall checklist (coming later today)

They may not be the eight items you need this Fall, they may not even be eight items I need this Fall, but they sure are the eight items I go to bed dreaming about each night.

Stay tuned.

Oh, and no, there's no connection between my list and KimKar, it's just been a while since the divine combination of her bah'um and a painted-on tight Hervé Léger dress have been in the press, and I just thought...well, yeah.

I couldn't give a lick what the premise is

Sure, Iraq's a mess, the kids are all on drugs, "Arrested Development" will never again air a new episode and the new Lancôme Men adverts feature a photoshopped-beyond-recognition version of what I believe was once a picture of Clive Owen, but don't fret - not just yet - because your, my and Monte's prayers may have been answered.

According to the reliable sources over at my second favorite celebrity blog, Kim Kardashian is officially slated to star in her own reality show, a half-hour program that could air as early as this Winter.

Where?

On the E! Network, natch.

If there was ever a motivator to clean out the Tivo arsenal of its months-old, half-watched episodes of "Bridezillas," "Snapped" and "Intervention," a show entirely dedicated to Kim and her fantastic ass would certainly be it.

Fingers crossed the test-audience is predominately male!

Technical difficulties

I'm here! I'm here! I'm just having a wee bit of frustration with Blogspot at the moment.

Sit tight, look at Kim's unbelievable up-front assets (click to enlarge) and check back after work for my next post.

duo xie,

Johanna

Kim Kardashian makes me feel like a hypocrite

I'm not much for the "tight look."

Big blingy jewelery is so not my thing.

I roll my eyes when I see a woman try ever-so-hard to match her shoes to her handbag.

I don't particularly care for Hervé Léger's signature bandaged-fabric effect.

And when I left my pink phase behind in the Spring of 2002, I not only kissed it goodbye, I tied cement booties to it and drop-kicked it into the Seekonk River.

Yet here at a Miami Fashion Week event on Wednesday night, Kim Kardashian somehow blossoms into the prettiest, most perfectly dressed goddess who ever was.

I just can't think what it is about these pictures that's bewitching me...
Maybe the shiny hair?

No, no, it must be the exquisite eye makeup.

Lean over a bit, hon...that's it, it's your pretty white smile!

Uh-huh, definitely the smile...

I'm probably gonna lose readers over this, but...

...I simply adore this grey belted bustier deep-pleat side-pocketed romper my girl-crush of the moment Kim Kardashian wore to a birthday party in the Hollywood Hills last week.

In fact, I adore it so much I spent the greater part of last night's penultimate episode of "Charm School" typing into Google various permutations of "bustier," "romper," "pleated" and "the sexecutive look."

Because of her petite (5'2") and curvy frame, Kim's options for evening-wear are much more limited than one might think, and as such, I give her major props for coming up with a never-before-rocked outfit that both flatters her assets - those thin, toned gams and sculpted shoulders - and keeps her mind-boggling chest-to-waist-to-ass proportions in relative check.

A girl can only wrap herself up in a universally-flattering DvF so many times before she starts to yawn and resort to craptastic threads like this, after all.

As a result of my arduous five-magazine poolside session yesterday, I'm now aware that the style Gods that are the executive editors of Harper's Bazaar, Elle and W have decreed it is no longer advisable to match one's belt to one's shoes (the new thing, apparently, is to only match one's clothes to one's purse), but here, when the goal is clearly to achieve the look of an after-hours office temptress, the strictly gray/black color palette is the spot-on right choice. The contrast of the work-appropriate pearl studs, corporate hair and black peep-toes with the copious amount of leg and boobage certainly makes your head spin...but in a really really good way.

Kind of like that ass of hers.

Technical difficulties (updated)

Yes, thank you, I am aware I have two "Since I don't (yet)" features on my sidebar.

Until Blogspot decides to shape up (we've been fighting since early yesterday evening), just ignore the dated picture and instead enjoy this snap of Kim Kardashian last night outside Koi in Los Angeles.

Methinks there was never a more convincing advert for the high-waisted pencil skirt -- or 10 sets of 15 lunges after your Sunday morning spin class.

Update: no acerbically witty caption to wrap your head around -- you just need your mouth (gaping), your eyes (bulging) and your hand (censored)

No, Blogspot still won't let me get rid of the Club Monaco skirt. Yes, this was just an excuse to show another photo of Kim's ridiculously large, in-charge and gravity-defying backside.

You're welcome.

The *other* kind of girl-date

A few weeks ago, I wrote a post in which I put forth the following operational definition for the term "girl-date":

A girl-date is when two women who are relatively unfamiliar with one another decide they want to explore a more meaningful friendship outside of their current circumstances and do so by setting up a meeting whereby the potential for said meaningful friendship can be more deeply explored.

Eloquently crafted as it may be, I don't think this definition is as tightly written as I originally thought it was. What brought about this second-look analysis was the pop-up reminder I received this morning from my Outlook calendar that read, "girl-date: dinner at Nooshi with L."

The girl-date I have tonight, just like the one I had with E two Thursdays ago, is still a "date" in the sense we're meeting one-on-one, an alcoholic beverage or two will be imbibed, I took extra care to distribute the glimmer on my legs and wore a skirt to show off that fact and we'll no doubt engage in a back-and-forth discussion of how little sex - "little" being a generous description in my case - we're having these days. But unlike E, L doesn't fall into the "relatively unfamiliar" category, nor was this meeting set up to "more deeply explore" the "potential" for a "meaningful friendship." On the contrary, L has been a mainstay in my social calendar for years, and tonight's meeting, just like handfuls and handfuls of others we've shared since I arrived fresh from the oil fields of glorious Daqing three years ago, will be of the more comfortable, familiar sort. To put it in celebri-tard terms, if I'm Paris Hilton, E is my Kim Kardashian (gratuitous picture below) while L is my Nicole Richie. Minus that whole driving-the-wrong-way-on-the-wrong-side-of-the-highway "misunderstanding," of course.

Like Nicole to Paris, L has known me as someone's long-term girlfriend; she's known me pre-puppy-whipped when I would actually refer to dogs by the gender-neutral "it" and say things like, "I would never let something that licked its own junk sleep in my bed"; she's known me before I fell in love with New York and everything in it; she's known me long before this blog took over my life and increased what I had thought at the time was an already high threshold for undignified, irreverent humor; and yes, L has even been around long enough to earn the distinct privilege of being on the receiving end of my mother's monthly at-least-25-pounds care packages, which, depending on what was on sale at Meijer, could include a swag-bag filled with anything from triple-berry muffin mix to Magic Erasers to an Eclipse gum Big-E-Pak dispenser to blocks and blocks of pepper-jack cheese. Yes, cheese. Surprising even myself, on one occasion, I decided to give L one of my prized family-size boxes of antibacterial lotion-infused Puffs Plus. It may not seem like much, but I cry on average something like four times a day, so the sacrifice went well-beyond the $4 sticker price.

And of course, because she's L, she understood that.

So tonight might not carry with it the nervous stomach-flutters, the am-I-looking-her-in-the-eye-too-often? inner-dialogue, or the obligatory "who's the one you'll never get over?" conversation-starter, but sometimes that's just as well. Sometimes, all that first-date drama is too much to bear on a 90-degree hump-day when your bits are still tender from last week's Brazilian and the ulcer you're sure is forming as a result of the can't-get-it-off-your-mind dress-indecision for Monday night's dinner in Manhattan with your ultra-stylish college BFF only compounds the discomfort you feel with every crossing and re-crossing of the legs.

Sometimes there's nothing more motivating to get you through the work day than the knowledge that come 5:30 you'll be in the presence of a cold Tsingtao and someone with whom first impressions are a done-deal. Just an hour and a half of being around a friend who has already accepted - and even enjoys - the fact you send her bi-daily e-mails with attached pictures of clothes and shoes you can't afford, celebrities with whom you wish you could change places just so you could have access to their clothes and shoes, and more often than not, the little man in your life who, despite his junk-licking tendencies, is the most welcome of any beast in your Indonesian-teak queen-size -- sometimes, that's the kind of girl-date a girl needs most.