And just when I thought money *didn't* matter...

...I come across a breathstoppingly beautiful, a so-perfectly-designed-to-accentuate-the-waist-to-hip countour that my hand is involuntarily drawn to my lips, could-only-be-couture ensemble like Hilary Swank's Louis Vuitton structured asymmetric wool cowl-neck blouse with pleated hem and matching pencil skirt at the launch of Guerlain's new perfume, "Insolence," at Selfridges in London earlier today.

I love the color, I love the cut, I love the dramatic sweep across the bustline of the exaggerated cowl -- frankly, if I had the money, this is exactly the kind of prim, conservative outfit you'd find me wearing to work everyday.

Now, if I had long hair like Hilary does, I certainly wouldn't have pulled a Petra and mucked up the showpiece quality of the neckline by allowing it to trickle down and tumble over the side. Instead, I'd have chosen a simple, side-parted upswept chignon, similar to what I imagine is underneath the runway model's very large beret, or, as Bridal Bird identified it earlier, the "[The Peculiar] Purple Pieman [of Porcupine Peak] hat."


Another weensy nitpick I have involves Ms. Swank's choice of footwear, which looks to me a bit too close in silhouette to both the pilgrim booty and hipster pootie to which, as you well know, I can offer not a whit of endorsement.

Instead, I would have chosen an equally Autumnal but slightly less full-coverage pump like this one from Gucci that in addition to having a more pleasing aesthetic, as a bonus, would have allowed the brown in the heel to nicely pick up the chestnut hue of the large YSL dome-shaped bowler bag clutched in Hilary's hand.

People in the more mainstream fashion industries tend to believe that for every expensive outfit one can always find an equally stylish more reasonably-priced alternative, and on most days, especially when I find a near-identical match for my "If I had a sugar daddy..." feature, I agree with this statement. But then there are other times, like this one, when the design in question is as much an artistic accomplishment as it is something pretty to wear, when I have to bow my short crop in defeat and accept the fact that a trip to the Jersey Shore may be fun, may have sun and may have 99 flavors of shaved ice, is just not the same as a vacay aboard the Diddy yacht in St. Tropez.

More of Hilary looking almost perfect in LV:

Scarlett at her scrum-diddily-umptious-est (pt. II)

The second tranche of Louis Vuitton adverts featuring Scarlett Johansson was released yesterday, and all I can say is, just like the first group, these six photos do absolutely nothing to bring me on-board the the LV popularity train.

The bags are gratuitously emblazoned with the looky-at-my-designer-baggy logo I so can't stand, the clothes - red patent trench and black schoolmarm-meets-Dita-von-Teese pumps aside - have a confusing mix of Gone With the Wind and Boogie Nights influences, and then there are those cumbersome chunky bangle bracelets -- not my thing, any of it.

But at the end of the day, you have that beautiful face, that copious cleavage and a breathstopping melange of sex kitten expressions.

ScarJo may not make me want to fork over $2,395 for a shearling-trimmed top-handle, but she sure has me reaching for the remote to watch (for the billionth time) the opening scene of Lost in Translation...

Scarlett at her scrum-diddily-umptious-est

Once again making Lindsay Lohan look even more like the trash-nasty scrap of coked-up, thinks-a-girl-has-to-be-naked-to-be-sexy B&T she rightly is in her released-this-week supermodel attempt, Scarlett Johansson full-court-presses all us ladies into bi-curious submission in these hot-n-fresh pics from her second round of adverts as the current Louis Vuitton spokestemptress.

Frankly, I don't like the shoes, clothes or any of the oversized, logo-emblazoned luggage pieces, totes, doctor-bag-satchels or quilted-purses featured in either this or her preceding LV campaign, but I must say, Miz Scah-lett never did look better. Or whiter, coincidentally.

And I especially dig this second one below, where ScarJo is lying on what looks like a satin-cushion-covered inverted benchpress with the "Oh pooh, doesn't Daddy want me to finish showing him how I spent all his money this afternoon?" expression we all know and use on occasion.

None of these ads make any interpretive sense to me, but at a visceral level, I'm learning quite a bit about my deep-seeded appreciation for the non-gymrat female form.

Instead of the Bieltastic ass, perhaps I should alter my New Year's resolution and try instead to acquire an all-around - save for the blonde - ScarJo-liciousness. And yes, that is the simplest, 1+1=2, can't-be-broken-down-any-further description I can come up with.

Like I have to tell you -- enjoy.

First round of campaign snaps from earlier this year:

Trying to think of something good to say that doesn't involve her boobs

There are some celebrities I just can't bring myself to criticize.

It's a small group, only two or three deep, and to be honest, there's no consistent reason behind any of their immunities.

Maybe it's rooted in my sad little fantasy that one day I'll cross Scarlett's - or Cate's or Liv's or Rachel McAdams' or Dick Cheney's - path, and after becoming fast BFF, she'll ask me if I have a blog, to which I'll say "yes," and when she looks at it and sees I've written nothing but positive things, she'll say, "Oh, you were so nice to me!" and then our friendship can play out as any famous/non-famous one does with the former taking the latter to Clive Owen movie premieres and Louis Vuitton fashion shows during Paris Fashion Week.

Or something like that.

That's why, when you see me post pictures of Scarlett looking like this, I'm not going to comment on the fact that her hair, handbag and shoes all look like they've been fashioned out of cream cheese frosting. Or that in her mini dress, she strikes a cross between what I always imagined Gretel would look like before she was incinerated Sylvia Plath style and a slightly-more educated St. Pauli's beer wench.

No, instead, I think I'll focus on my favorite 34D's, I mean actress's valiant effort to match her Proenza Pink lipstick to her balconet bra.