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".

Eye candy of the week

One of the time-saving tricks I've learned over the past year is that when a picture strikes me as blogworthy -no matter if I have or haven't a post in mind for which it will be of use- I always save it to a folder on my desktop labeled, "eye candy."

For days like this one when I don't have time to put together a thoughtfully written piece, that folder sure does come in handy.

Below you'll find my highlights from this week's prettiest, unused photos.

Enjoy.

The 40-year old First Girlfriend of France, Carli Bruni, from both the front...
...and the back. (well played, Mssr. Sarkozy)
The new Esquire cover. Even women will have a hard time tearing their eyes away from this leg-fest...
Miss Dita arriving at the Jardin des Tuileries for the Dior Haute Couture show on Monday......and Lacroix on Tuesday......and Gaultier on Wednesday...My favorite men's look of the RTW season (from Lanvin):My favorite women's look of the Haute Couture season (from Lacroix):
A take-your-breath-away photo from the Sartorialist:
Dita's Mouret sheath, Claudia's long, long limbs and Vick's Louboutins -- perfection.

Love the height, hate the rest

Introducing the 'Victoria' shoe from Italian designer Giambattista Valli.


At just over six inches in actual heel height with two inches of front-end platform, the 'Victoria' is tall, so tall, in fact, even its fearless inspiration expressed reluctance at how successful she would be in a pair of her namesake shoes without a good deal of on-carpet practice.

Now, you know me and you know I love me some sky-high stilettos - the taller the better, I like to say - but the more I look at these mirror-accented, pink satin ankle-strapped sandals (or pumps?), the more convinced I am that Victoria would wear anything provided it had attached to it a four-figure or above price tag.

Because I'm sorry, but these $1,395 shoes are not only objectively offensive to look at but they're also indistinguishable from say, this selection of similarly steep, much more modestly-priced footwear.

More of Victoria wearing her 'Victorias' during an Elle Magazine photoshoot earlier today vitiating any and all credibility she earned over the weekend with this ASJiNE-approved Marc Jacobs sheath:

If this is what motherhood looks like, I'll consider it

Because it's been far too long since I've used that subject heading...

Quote of the day: Sarah Jessica Parker

"I used to spend 18 to 20 hours a day filming [SatC] in heels. Now I spend a much shorter day in them and I'm, like, 'Owww!' I've really destroyed my body by running and dancing in heels. My knees are shot."

(SJP on why she now favors flats in the September issue of British Elle)

I have no substantive retort to this comment, which is perhaps in itself an indictment of how true I deep-down believe her take on the always-in-heels issue to be.

No wait, I take that back.

Sarah Jessica claims she went from spending "18-20 hours a day" for the better part of a decade to a "much shorter" regiment almost immediately after the series ended in 2004. Now I'm no podiatrist, but that kind of extreme transition, whether it be from flats to heels or heels to flats, is begging for a joint problem. Just as building up alcohol tolerance, putting up with Giuliani DePandi's mug on "E! News Live" and slowing chipping away at your longstanding I-won't-spend-more-than-$XXX-on-a-dress limit takes slow-but-steady practice, so too does feeling comfortable in an all-day tip-toe. The more strictly you adhere to an always-in-heels rule, the more uncomfortable flats will become and yes, obviously, the more your knees will ache if you engage in behaviors that run contrary to this training. I'm inclined to believe that if she'd just stuck indefinitely with the 18-20 hours per day schedule to which she'd had grown accustomed, her body would not only not be "destroyed," it would be in tippity-top shape.

Like I said, no substantive retort. I guess it's just disheartening to hear that one of my kindred stiletto-ed spirits has gone France on me and decided to come out swinging for the other team.

Well, I guess I'll always have this one. I liked her alright before, but I fell in f**king love with her after seeing 8:16 to 8:00 of this clip, taken from "Victoria Beckham: Coming to America":

When my least favorite color happens to my favorite dress

After spending much time with her W Magazine photo shoot, I decided I needed to give Victoria Beckham a chance.

And I'm trying, really I am, but for every point she earns with her thinly-veiled attempts at friendliness and her impractically high stilettos while browsing the aisles at Toys-R-Us, she ruins her chances by doing things like taking my beloved, favorite-item-for-Fall Roland Mouret 'Moon dress', desecrating it with god-awful Pepto-pink, topping it off with a matchy-matchy Malibu-Barbie-looking Hermès Birkin bag and for some reason I still can't quite understand, insisting on maintaining that fake-as-hell platinum hair color.

If it weren't for her impressive almond-toed Sergio Rossi platform pumps, the perfect fit of the Mouret sheath, the Starbust-sized, pear-shaped bauble on her left ring finger (so ridiculous it's fabulous) and of course, that under-these-Tom-Ford-glasses-I'm-laughing-at-all-of-you expression, I might be tempted to cut Miss Posh even before the real game begins.

Scientology brochure-pusher or not, I'd advise spending more quality time over at the crazy compound with your newly-realized BFF so that perhaps by osmosis her good taste might dilute your own.

If this is what marriage looks like, I'll consider it

In what should have been a prequel to this post, I now present you with a photographic depiction of my warped view of what married life should look like not only during the first three "happy years" but on every anniversary, birthday, major and minor holiday, heck, every weekday thereafter as well.

Posh and Becks fashionably getting their marriage on in the new issue of W Magazine:

"It's Monday, but isn't that your Thursday garter belt? I'm sure it is, lemme see."

"The kids are fine. I think I can see them over there somewhere."

"Honey, I'm home!"

Weekly "date night" at the La Quinta "Mmmmm...Tantric Sunday tastes good..."

"All that suspended congress made me hungry -- you wanna hit up IHOP?"

A post-dinner tradition: the sexy pose-off

(Posh won this round)"Yeah, I guess we can try in here next...kids, move to the hood."

"Take me right down the middle..."

As I stared at myself in the familiar bay-window-sized antique mirror, Rodney, my stylist at Andre Chreky, stood directly behind me with the base of his chin resting lightly atop the crown of my head. He playfully chided me for waiting more than four months to clean up my ends ("at least you don't do a daily blow-out or use color"), explained to me why Britney's extensions looked so awful ("it's Britney, honey, not the hair") and then, more out of routinization than the expectation I might actually deviate from the same cut he'd given me since I discovered him just under two years ago, said:

"Nicole Richie Fall 2005, I presume?"

"Actually...no."

(pause)

"No?"

"No."

"Really? I mean, okay...where are am I taking you then, Miss Johanna?"

"Rodney, I want you to take me right down the middle between this...

...and this."

And down the middle he took me.

Posh from the side...

Katie from the front...

And my own familiar brand of self-adoration......from every other angle.

And the answer to your question is "yes" -- yes, I typically do spend the hour before going out giving myself a closeups-only photo-shoot.

But only after I feed the homeless, read Charlemagne and say a prayer for those women with less of an aptitude for eye makeup application.