For the sake of my forehead wrinkles, I need to stop venting about Little J and The Haircut (although I might name my first imaginary band that; my second one, which clearly will shoot to great fame and fortune, will be called Andrea Zuckerman's Famous Pig). Seriously, it looks worse week-to-week -- at this point, if you told me she'd shampooed with undiluted rum and then bent over in front of a candle, causing the whole thing to go up in a fiery conflagration, I would believe you. They need to get her a wig, or chop it off into a pixie cut and start over, or put a bag over her head for a month. It's bad.
Thankfully, my distraction on Gossip Girl this week came in the form of Ms. Serena Van Der Woodsen herself. As if the indignity of having to act interested the shaggy, blandly self-absorbed charisma void that is Aaron Rose, our girl S had to strut around her penthouse in this little number:
Tragically, the photos from my TV screen don't do justice to how terrible this looked. But even Chuck Bass -- he of the tiny man shorts and countless turtlenecks -- appears to be judging her for the awkward tightness, and the awkwardness of the tights. She seems SO UNCOMFORTABLE, too. I mean, that is not only short, but it's bunching up with every step. Poor Blake clomped around the set as if she was afraid her crotch might fly out at a moment's notice.
It's made even worse by the CW bug appearing right over her crotch, as if to draw attention to how hella-unflattering the skirt is. May I remind the Gossip Girl costumers again that this is BLAKE LIVELY, who is dreamy of figure? Is it that impossible to dress someone who isn't a size 00? Are they in league with the Ghost Whisperer people? And why, exactly, did Serena think her party-girl past needed to be such a secret from her foul new boyfriend if she was going to run around to TWO family Thanksgivings dressed like Ronald McDonald's favorite call girl?
I mean, come on. That's just not fair to her.
What IS fair, though -- to the universe -- is the existence of this:
Thankfully, my distraction on Gossip Girl this week came in the form of Ms. Serena Van Der Woodsen herself. As if the indignity of having to act interested the shaggy, blandly self-absorbed charisma void that is Aaron Rose, our girl S had to strut around her penthouse in this little number:
Tragically, the photos from my TV screen don't do justice to how terrible this looked. But even Chuck Bass -- he of the tiny man shorts and countless turtlenecks -- appears to be judging her for the awkward tightness, and the awkwardness of the tights. She seems SO UNCOMFORTABLE, too. I mean, that is not only short, but it's bunching up with every step. Poor Blake clomped around the set as if she was afraid her crotch might fly out at a moment's notice.
It's made even worse by the CW bug appearing right over her crotch, as if to draw attention to how hella-unflattering the skirt is. May I remind the Gossip Girl costumers again that this is BLAKE LIVELY, who is dreamy of figure? Is it that impossible to dress someone who isn't a size 00? Are they in league with the Ghost Whisperer people? And why, exactly, did Serena think her party-girl past needed to be such a secret from her foul new boyfriend if she was going to run around to TWO family Thanksgivings dressed like Ronald McDonald's favorite call girl?
I mean, come on. That's just not fair to her.
What IS fair, though -- to the universe -- is the existence of this:
Yes, that is Chad Michael Murray, and yes, he is snapping in time with a '40s beat, because he's the smooth cat who owns Karen's Cafe and he's about to schmooze his way through the room. Seriously, people, the back-in-time episode of One Tree Hill was so beyond awful -- in that brilliant, satisfying way that had us covering our eyes in horror yet secretly watching through our fingers and then clapping delightedly at the end. It had horrible schmaltzy dialogue, a mishmash of maybe-kinda-sorta movie homages butchered and twisted to fit the scenario, Mouth getting thrown into the river wearing cement boots, several gunshots, terrible hair that would've befit a high-school production of Gone With The Wind and patchy Southern accents to match, and Dan Scott sporting a fake mustache that looked crooked in different ways and/or as if it were about to fall off every time he appeared on camera. And do you know who we have to thank?
THAT'S RIGHT. We have him to thank for such gems as, "I fell in love with the rhythm of the rain." But you'd think CMM would at least demand that uber-villain Dan Scott get a fake mustache he could TWIRL. Get with the program, people. If you're going to have Haley swanning around about two beats away from saying, "Fiddle-de-dee, Rhett," then Dan can have a 'stache that's waxed at the tips until it curls up majestically like he is a state-fair charlatan trying to sell you a healing elixir.
Sigh. It was so fabulously bad. I could not love this cracked-out show more.
Oh, wait, yes I could:
DAWSON. CMM. TOGETHER. NEXT WEEK. FROWNING. NIPPLE. FOREHEADS. MY VOLUME JUST WENT UP TO ELEVEN. Oh, yes, saddle up, bitches. It's going to be a douchey ride.
