Category: Pics

I pulled this ad out of my Vanity Fair magazine and set it on the coffee table for further inspection, as it seemed curious to me on several levels.  My son walked by and asked why a scorned Taylor Swift was lying near the remote and tub of coconut oil, and I explained that Miss Swift, fickle as she may be, is nothing if not ladylike–nay, princesslike–and would not be caught dead in a bedazzed jungle cat motif.

This honor goes to Karlie Kloss, the Juicy Couture model for the Fall 2012 campaign.  Now when I hear Juicy Couture, for some reason, the Brit’s voice pops into my head singing in her stilted robotic voice: I’m Mrs. Lifestyles Of The Rich & Famous (You want a  piece of me?) I’m Mrs. Oh-My-God, That Britney’s Shameless (You want a piece of me?).  No, thank you, we do not (and apparently, neither does Jason Trawick).  The point is, Juicy Couture brings to mind velour tracksuits.

So there we have a JC designer wedged between JLo and The (Green) Material Girl.  Are these the best examples of juicy derrieres?  One of them has an ample booty, and one of them has a boney booty, but neither of them can claim “juicy” anymore. Perhaps Madonna could suggest that her designer daughter, Lola, start a line of clothing for post-menopausal women, with a more accurate label.  Something like “Wither Couture.”

with-er

1. To dry up or shrivel from or as if from loss of moisture.
2. To lose freshness; droop.

But back to Miss Kloss, the anti-withered.  In fact, she’s not even legal to imbibe yet, at least not in the States.  I’m no Anna Wintour, so I can’t tell you what they WANT this ad to say to the consumer.  But I can tell you what a common woman between the age of Britney and Madonna sees when she looks at this ad.

1. Either her teeth are clenched as part of her snarly little sneer, or she better hop on over to the orthodontist tout de suite regarding that underbite.
2. Why is she wearing a dog collar?  Those genuine diamelles look heavy and will smack her in the face the next time she bends down to adjust her stiletto.
3. Is this bedhead or a mousse commercial or are we supposed to think she just had sex at the seaside pavilion in the background with a former pro-surfer-turned-hobo?
4. That upturned eyebrow is laden with disdain.  Don’t you peer at me through those nerdy girl glasses (do they even have lenses?). I think if we panned out of this shot, she’d have an empty gin bottle in her hand (minor in possession!), ready to smack us.  This is all very Louisville-slugger-to-both-headlights, if you get my drift.
5. Why is she wearing a presumably faux fur jacket at the beach?  Is she cold from detox chills?
6. What is up with the leopard/cheetah with palm trees sprouting out of his head?  Animal cruelty alert!  Just try to look into his clear blue eyes without turning away.  That ferocious cat seems to understand the mysteries of the world.  Or maybe he’s slowly choking to death in the deathgrip of that Charming Charlie’s choke collar.  Either way, this is all reminding me of the feng shui woman yesterday who told me the best way to cure my insomnia was to rid the bedroom of animal prints, including animal print sheets (who has THOSE?) because they are too “energizing.”  If Karlie did, in fact, pass out drunk on her jacket in that pavilion, the animal print seems to have done more enervating than energizing.

Animals, animals, animals!  Where is Hal Linden when I need him?

And just in case you missed the animal references, here she is ON ALL FOURS in a leopard-print jumpsuit hoodie monstrosity, cavorting on the sand after she had her Gatorade to rehydrate.  Who’s a happy girl now?  Who’s a happy girl?

More than anything, this reminded me of my college roommate’s cat, Misery, when she was in heat, rump raised and ready to rumble.  I think I’ll take my couture pulp-free this year, perhaps altogether juice-free.  Lola, have you got any etchings done yet??