This is, to put it mildly, either GREAT NEWS for Tara Reid, or like incredibly BAD NEWS for Nicky Hilton.
We've got exhibit A:
And then we've got Exhibit B:
Right?
Memo to Ms Hilton: when it turns out that you bear an as yet unremarked upon resemblance to Tara Reid, it is probably in your best interest to make sure that you don't ever look even mildly Reidified when you leave the house. That means you've GOT to wash and brush the hair, fight the bloat with all the tools at your disposal (if that means sleeping with your head propped up on five pillows so all the fluid runs down to your little feet, so be it), make your you've got a wee bit of lippy on, and, obviously, control any wayward boobies. I know this seems like a lot of work when you're just out running some errands, but you can NOT AFFORD people mistaking you for La Reid. It's career suicide! (Even if all that career consists of is sort of sometimes designing bags, walking around town with that cute little Kevin Connelly , and not being as trampy as your sister.)
Memo to Ms Reid: Hey, keep it up. It's not like anyone is confusing you with Giselle, but any step forward is a step in the right direction.
