So apparently the Daytime Emmy Awards are coming up in a week, and Lesli Kay of The Bold and the Beautiful did some publicity thing where she's trying on dresses. Which I'm sure was a treat and all, but:
She looks like she's about to be crowned Queen of a very small principality whose chief national export is gilded interiors, and is posing for the official photograph that will be used for authorized coronation merchandise -- say, coffee mugs and breakfast trays, or-- in the vein of my very favorite Chuck & Di royal-wedding souvenir -- metal trash cans. It's all a bit mature. And in the case of her shoulder adornments, almost military, as if she exhibited deepest bravery in defense of her country's largest and most jealously targeted brass-knob factory. In short, I don't recommend that she pick this option.
Nor would I advocate this one:
She looks like she's about to be crowned Queen of a very small principality whose chief national export is gilded interiors, and is posing for the official photograph that will be used for authorized coronation merchandise -- say, coffee mugs and breakfast trays, or-- in the vein of my very favorite Chuck & Di royal-wedding souvenir -- metal trash cans. It's all a bit mature. And in the case of her shoulder adornments, almost military, as if she exhibited deepest bravery in defense of her country's largest and most jealously targeted brass-knob factory. In short, I don't recommend that she pick this option.
Nor would I advocate this one:
[Photo: WENN.com]
Here, she is in danger of being mistaken for the baton twirler in her coronation ceremony's climactic marching-band performance of "Livin' On A Prayer."
However, I think we've found The One. Behold:
I am not referring to the satiny number Lesli herself is wearing, which is basically a glorified egg cup for her soft-boiled lady huevos, but to the red-velvet blazer and coral pants with matching espadrilles that designer Lloyd Klein is wearing. Please, Lesli Kay, show up in that to the Daytime Emmys. You would look like the skipper of the yacht Satan keeps just off St. Tropez -- which would not only amuse me on a profound soul-cheering level, but might make a much more interesting plot for your day job than the same old tired love triangles where the same seven people who live in ginormous Los Angeles can't find anyone to date exceot people their mothers/sons/grandfathers have also dated. So, that's TWO reasons to steal those trousers and espadrilles. I'm serious, Lesli. DO IT. For ME. Thanks so much.
