Petra's poor performance

Petra knew this was my if-I-met-John-Cusack-it'd-be-in-this-dress dress.

She must have also known I'd been questioning lately exactly how it was she got my dream life of jetting around the world to do little else but smile through a neutral gloss, wear beautiful evening gowns night after night and sorta kinda talk about like, charities and stuff.

There's no other explanation than throw-it-in-my-face spite why Ms. Nemcova would take such a stunning regal purple textured-satin lantern-neck column gown and ruin it with ten pounds of down-in-front Farrah feathering, a not-skim-but-drag-on-the-floor hemline and what from most angles look like a pair of Old Navy flip-flops.

Sorry Petra, I know I'm being tough on you, but like a stripper, your only job requirement is to look wish-I-were-you hot, and when you can't even do that properly...well, let's just say it's disappointing.

Especially for the children.

Very pretty Petra wears very ugly dress

I applaud many aspects of supermodel and Angelina-lite Petra Nemcova's look at Saturday night's WHCA gala and Bloomberg-sponsored after-party.

I like that she pulled her hair up-and-off her shoulders, I like that she went for black eyeliner and a bare shiny lip, I like that she allowed her beautiful décolletage and not some bauble to be the center of her neckline's attention, I like that she chose an elegant floor-sweeping hemline, and most of all, I like that this very stacked young lady chose not to bare cleavage - pushed-up cleavage, anyway, like this so-past-her-prime-she-needs-pity-more-than-judgment Barbie doll predictably did.

But that gown, Petra...goodness, that gown. Where do I start?

There are several impasses in the way of me embracing this dual-spaghetti-strapped v-neck/v-back empire-waisted slip dress, primary among them is that from the you-think-you're-seeing-more-than-you-really-are black-lace-overlay trick-of-the-eye right down to the pointless train and the pinned-on rosette at the base of the bustline, this dress looks more like somthing an 11th grader would pick out at the Pentagon City Caché for her junior - not senior but junior - prom than something a seasoned catwalk veteran would don at a high-society event. And even if you disagree with me on that front, you have to admit the empire cut on this gown makes the size-4 Czech stunner look wider than a circa-2005 Tony Blankley.

Were I Petra's stylist, I would have chosen for her a much more figure-flattering silhouette, either a column-style like this one from Donna Karan or a slim, drop-waisted sequined shift like this one from Dolce & Gabbana.

In the end, though, at least Petra put forth a noticeable effort into her look, unlike this pair of hostile, canola-fueled granola bars. And quite honestly, I think we all know she could've showed up in a shapeless chambray sack from Chico's, a pair of Ecco comfort sandals and been attached at the hip all night to this fool and it wouldn't have mattered. Quite simply, she's got what all powerful men in this city are after -- a pretty face, a sick body, a less than nuanced understanding of English and most important, an early morning plane ticket home.