She doesn't look utterly wretched. But we've GOT to talk about this hair situation. I don't know what's going on with the actual CUT, but the styling makes her look like She-Trump with an accessories fetish.
And then, like Maude, there's Jaslene:
My sweet Cha Cha Diva. My most favorite of the ANTM stable of winners. My darling child. Why would you do this to me? Why why why why why? Why aren't you wearing a shirt? Just as a toaster is not pants, and a soap dish is not a purse, a blazer is not a shirt. It just isn't. I need to know why you're now dressing like Bai Ling. I fugged Bai Ling yesterday. I know Bai Ling. Jaslene, you are no Bai Ling. Please pull it together immediately. Thank you.
Oh my god, Jaslene. Girl. You know I love you. Of all the Top Model winners, you might be my favorite (although who doesn't like Danielle?). But COME ON:
Peep-toe wrestling shoes....with tights? A belted....I don't know what to call it? A pillowcase? From the thighs up, you look like a mannequin at Forever XXI, from the bottom down you look like Sienna Miller's next outing to the pub. What would Tyra say?
So, Jaslene, I realize that when you won the last cycle of America's Next Top Model, people said you looked either a) like a drag queen, b) like Janice Dickinson, or c) like a drag queen impersonating Janice Dickinson.
To which I respond:
a) Not without lipstick, bigger hair, and some... er... support in that thong;
b) Not when you wear a leash;
c) Not when your nipples are the only lively thing about you.
Seriously, a resemblance is all very well and good, and presumably -- at least based on what I saw on the show -- "Dragalicious" and "Janice" are pretty much What You Do. And if that's the way it's gonna be, well, Jaslene, take note: Janice only gives it away for free if she's actively posing for photographers while yanking her skirt up over her head, or tumbling out of her top because mere pathetic fabric can't contain the nip of the Alpha Dog. Say what you will about her sanity, but if she wants to burn every last private fold of her body onto your retinas, she will DO IT and DO the HELL out of it. There is no false modesty. Your thin cotton peep show would offend the part of her that thinks you had no built-up mystique to ruin AND the part of her that believes areolas are best served at parties.
Now, I'm not suggesting you need to follow her example; just that you're at a crossroads. Either put it away for a little bit until you've earned the right to be functionally insane if you want to be, or go balls-to-the-wall like the World's First Supermodel and own the fact that you'd like all your Jays to be public domain. But this? This just feels weird and wrong, like you're the cover of a really pervy novel in the little-served "fantasy bodice-ripper" genre, and all the creatures on your skirt are seeking to sup on your inner beast. Which... ew.

A book, huh? Is it just stuff you already put on the Web site?
Nope, we wrote the whole thing fresh, just for you.
Awesome. In that case, I want to read it!
Thank you! Click here to find out all the details!