[First, just a quick house-keeping note: our Oscar coverage is long this year, so if you haven't been checking the site a lot recently, you may have missed the pieces that have fallen off the front page. So make sure to click to the next page once you get to the bottom. More procrastination material available!]
As much as I love Paulina Porizkova on America's Next Top Model -- and I love her A LOT -- I don't think I've ever fully gotten over losing Janice Dickinson here:
Paulina is like the man you marry: You adore her, she's funny and insightful, and you're thrilled to be with her. You know she is the right fit for you. And Janice is like the crazy hot dude you spent one wild summer with, on whom you look back with great fondness, a bit of wistful longing, and a huge sense of relief that you're not tethered to him for the rest of your life because, as hilarious and fun as that summer was, it was also mildly scary because he was nuts, and you knew that at any moment he could show up drunk and start humping Tyra's leg. But that doesn't meant that when you see him, you don't think, "Man, GOOD TIMES." Which is what I think whenever I see J. Dick. I mean, look at her here. From the waist up, she looks great -- if a bit Futuristic Amelia Earhart. From the waist down, she looks like a department store mannequin circa 1991, when someone at the Mannequin Factory decided that it would be awesome if Macy's had to display its wares on something with no head, no hands, and silver skin. So we could all more accurately guess how that blazer would look on the alien on our Christmas list. Which is kind of what Janice is, after all, anyway, isn't she?
As much as I love Paulina Porizkova on America's Next Top Model -- and I love her A LOT -- I don't think I've ever fully gotten over losing Janice Dickinson here:
Paulina is like the man you marry: You adore her, she's funny and insightful, and you're thrilled to be with her. You know she is the right fit for you. And Janice is like the crazy hot dude you spent one wild summer with, on whom you look back with great fondness, a bit of wistful longing, and a huge sense of relief that you're not tethered to him for the rest of your life because, as hilarious and fun as that summer was, it was also mildly scary because he was nuts, and you knew that at any moment he could show up drunk and start humping Tyra's leg. But that doesn't meant that when you see him, you don't think, "Man, GOOD TIMES." Which is what I think whenever I see J. Dick. I mean, look at her here. From the waist up, she looks great -- if a bit Futuristic Amelia Earhart. From the waist down, she looks like a department store mannequin circa 1991, when someone at the Mannequin Factory decided that it would be awesome if Macy's had to display its wares on something with no head, no hands, and silver skin. So we could all more accurately guess how that blazer would look on the alien on our Christmas list. Which is kind of what Janice is, after all, anyway, isn't she?
