Ashlee & Jessica Simpson

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE:

Ashlee Simpson Named DERELICTE Spokeswoman.

Los Angeles -- January 27, 2006.  Ashlee Simpson is officially the new face of the DERELICTE line, DERELICTE spokesman Harve Montalban announced at a press conference held today at  DERELICTE headquarters in downtown Tarzana.

"Ashlee has really impressed us with her grasp of the DERELICTE lifestyle," Montalban told reporters. "For the last several months, she has lived, slept, breathed, ate and walked DERELICTE. When we thought she could not get more DERELICTE, she proved us wrong, as you can see from the photo to my right [attached to this press release].  Ashlee IS DERELICTE."

Montalban rejected reports that DERELICTE was looking to replace its former spokeswoman, Mary Kate Olsen, because she had shown up at several events looking clean and happy. "Mary Kate decided it was time to focus on her acting," he said. "We're sure she's still DERELICTE on the inside, and we wish her the best."

Speaking through her agent, Simpson said that she was thrilled to be the face of DERELICTE. "I've been a fan of DERELICTE for a long time," she said. "Finally, someone's noticed me."

About DERELICTE.
DERELICTE Inc. is a leading international fashion line offering clothing, accessories and personal care products for men, women, children and babies under the DERELICTE brand name. Worn almost exclusively by desperate starlets and lazy rich people, DERELICTE takes its name from the word "derelict" and embraces the idea that it's cool to look homeless when you're actually a millionaire.  Fiscal 2004 sales were $204,562.39. DERELICTE Inc. operates about 7 stores in the United States, the United Kingdom, Canada, France and Japan, and is considered one of haute couture's hautest lines.  For more information, please read US Weekly.

For months now, all the gossip has been a tangle of "Nick is a cheat," "Jessica is a cheat," "they secretly hate each other," "Joe Simpson is an asshead." The only thing anyone could really agree upon was the latter count. And now, all the magazines seem to have decided that, despite denials from the Lachey camp, Jessica finally stood up for her poor wounded self and Nick had this coming. I'm sure you've seen the screaming yellow headlines: "WHY JESSICA DUMPED NICK," "WHY JESSICA LEFT NICK," "JESSICA JESSICA JESSICA JESSICA," "HI MY NAME IS JOE SIMPSON AND I AM A SPIN-CONTROLAHOLIC..." You know the drill. The accompanying stories attempt to claim that she was taking control of a dying marriage, and isn't she brave, and he's a total dog...

Personally, I never thought she was that upset about it, really -- and, well, if we're being honest, I think the Knoxville rumors are true and this whole thing's been a farce for almost a year now. But recently, I began to wonder if perhaps she was more upset about this whole thing than I originally thought. Why do I feel that way?

Exhibit A.

That thing has enough room for Aretha Franklin's breasts, and therefore makes Jessica look like she has two deflated sacks hanging from her chest.

Clearly, nobody would wear this unless she -- or he, I suppose -- were had gone totally blind from grief. Or perhaps it paralyzed her, and Ashlee freaked out, because it's her mandate to be Jessica-lite, and if Jessica isn't out and about, whom can she imitate? So after several attempts to rouse her sister into getting dressed for the Big In '05 awards, poor Ashlee had to resort to rolling up Jessica in whatever pieces of cloth she could find, slapping some color back into her cheeks (wish she'd called and asked me to help), and finally shoving her out onto the red carpet.

Tragic, really.

Jessica Simpson couldn't be HAPPIER now that she and Nick Lachey are el finito, right? Just look at her!

I can think of several reasons why she looks so cranky, and none of them have to do with the destruction of her marriage!

1. her new huge crazy lips are seriously really painful and she kind of can't talk or breath or eat around them.
2. she's cold. I mean it -- it's been cold here in Los Angeles lately and she's not even wearing a cardigan!
3. Kitson was out of Team Lachey shirts, but had piles of Team Simpson ones. What does that meaaaaan?
4. she just realized she's wearing cropped leggings under an otherwise fairly cute dress. She was so close to being well-dressed! So close! And then....the leggings struck.  Will no one heed my warnings? The return of leggings will be the end of us all! First, it's leggings. Then, we're wearing polka-dotted bike shorts under florescent baby doll dresses and does anyone really want to be around for that? Again? If you're that cold, THEY'RE CALLED PANTS.

NICK: Hey, Jess, do you think they're buying it?

JESS: What?

NICK: IT. THIS. THIS SHAM OF A MARRIAGE WE'RE KEEPING UP FOR GOD KNOWS WHY. IT'S NOT LIKE ANYONE CARES ABOUT US ANYMORE.

JESS: Huh? Oh, um. I dunno. Probably.

NICK: Seriously? HOW CAN YOU THINK THAT? EVERYONE KNOWS IT'S OVER!

JESS: Hmm? Sure, honey.

NICK: YOU'RE NOT EVEN LISTENING TO ME.

JESS: Mmm-hmmm.

NICK: And what are you WEARING? Are those TIGHTS? WITH NO PANTS? UNDER A BIG SHIRT? AND A CROPPED SWEATER? WHO ARE YOU? WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOUUUUUU?

JESS: Uh-huh.

NICK: I WANT A DIVORCE!

"Hey guys!

"What-what! Give it up for my outfit! Hey heeeeey! Why wear tights when jeans do just as well? Word!"

I JUST CAN'T TAKE HER ANYMORE:

I mean seriously. ENOUGH ALREADY. ENOUGH! ENOUGH! I am officially, 100 percent, totally and completely, utterly and deeply over Jessica "Is This Tuna or Chicken?" "Buffalos Don't Have Wings!" "Aw, look at my little sister, isn't she -- NO, LOOK AT ME AGAIN!" "I Slept With Johnny Knoxville OH NO I DIDN'T HOW DARE YOU INSINUATE THAT?" "I filed for divorce. NO, I DIDN'T. Or DID I? No. I didn't." "My dad is totally normal, I SWEAR!" "Listen, my marriage is totally awesome, REALLY." "Hey, check out my boobs!" "My ass, my ass, now let's talk about my ass!" "You too can have my Daisy Dukes body...just buy my exercise DVD! And my perfume! And my body glitter! And my line of jeans! And my SOUL!" "Hey, Star Magazine just did an entire two-page article on MY ASS, complete with EXPERT OPINIONS because everyone is JUST THAT INTERESTED IN THE RELATIVE BOOTYLICIOUSNESS OR LACK THEREOF OF MY BEHIND." Simpson.

Therefore, I decline to comment on her VMAs outfit, even though I could say that she looks like the top of half of a pirate bride paired with the bottom half of, oh, I don't know, SOME IDIOT WHO JUMPED ON THE FORMAL SHORTS BANDWAGON, but I won't, because Jessica Simpson won't go away until we all start ignoring her. Therefore, as far as I am concerned, she was never at the VMAs, she has never been to the VMAs, she has never HEARD of the VMAs, she has never had a hand in either V, or M, and she certainly doesn't deserve an A.

So let's all just go about our business and pretend this never happened.

Okay, first of all, I am so over Jessica Simpson. Has no one noticed that, over the course of the past two years, she has morphed into an actual WAX FIGURINE?

And now she seems to think she's, like, the waxen love child of Sienna Miller and the jockey manchild Tobey McGuire played in Seabisuit:

What? Unless Nick slept with some nanny-type Simpson employee [like, say, Ashlee, who, to me, sort of looks like the girl down the street who babysits your little sister and who you kind of like hanging out with although you can never ask her for fashion advice and you certainly can't borrow her clothes, but because she's sort of amusing and her life is always a total mess and makes you feel better about yourself because, although things might be bad, at least you aren't chasing Wilmer Valdermananananana all over town], Jessica really has no call to adopt this kind of Homeless-British-Wan and Terribly Cold-But-Can't-Bother-to-Find-a Coat-Hell-This-Blanket-Will-Do-Knicker-Sporting chic.

Can't she just go away for ten minutes? Just ten. Just give me a second to catch my breath.

Ever since Papa Joe allowed her to re-blonde herself, Ashlee's just gotten worse and worse:

Honestly, I don't hate the shirt; it's not my style, but with jeans and boots and a slightly different approach to handling the transparency, it could be cute. And I don't think I hate the boots. But I vehemently hate them both with the capris.

Worst of all, though -- and further dragging down the entire outfit -- is her fried, bleached-out hair and heavy black eyeliner. She looks like a ghost of herself, a fact she is apparently trying and failing to cure with self-tanner; you can see a Lohan-esque band of pale skin by her hairline, but sadly, whatever color is there doesn't make her look any less washed-out.

I hope this battle with hair bleach isn't a slow, subtle, self-destructive way of lashing out at her life; that never seems to end well. I don't want her to end up knocked up by a bearded greasepole, living out her days as a puffy, vaguely dirty, walking grisly train wreck we can't stop staring at in case we spot something that we will then wish we'd never seen. Sound familiar?

I think Jessica Simpson is getting gymorexic on us:

Lady J.Simp is sculpting herself a nice little masculine face and tree-trunk neck, topped by some shoulders that show the beginnings of some butch muscle striation. She looks like she's reinventing herself as a thug female Eminem. I'd hate to run into her in a dark alley -- although maybe that's because I would hate to run into her in general. She's exercising her features into stark, pointy, horsy relief, and it's beginning to alarm me.

I'm not even sure I want to talk about the cutoffs.

Except, I do. I get wearing your husband's (or Knoxville's? Or... her father's? No... no, I don't want to think about that) sweater. Or his boxers. Or his t-shirts. But, making cutoffs out of his jeans? No. Sorry, J.Simp -- no. I know no one who does that. Not even if they're missing the pant-wearer, yearning to relive the glories of illicit Louisiana nights. If she wants ratty culottes that badly, she should just hop on eBay and make it happen. Or, hell, call up Old Navy -- I'm sure someone from the braintrust over there is eager to follow up the Boho Reek craze by reintroducing the Bermuda short's billowy cousin.

However, I'd prefer that she can it altogether; if she doesn't, then Ashlee will start up with this, because she does everything Jessica does, and then we'll hit a fugly slippery slope.

"Yo yo yo! J. Simp in the hizzzzy.

That's RIGHT, beeyotchs! I am working this skirt! Yeah, it's falling off my ass [ask me about my Bikini Body, on the cover of this week's US Weekly]!  Yeah, it's totally too big for me! Yeah! It's totally like those skirts in that hella wicked Old Navy commerical, YEAH YEAH.

Listen, y'all, I am working it with these street braids and this wicked fresh Army shirt, because I love America, YO. I love it.  But you all gots to understand that I am not that stupid virgin girl who married a boy bander just to get laid any more, NO I AM NOT. This is the NEW JESSICA. Because I am NOT wearing whatever my Dad tells me to, at all, y'all. Have you seen Ashlee lately? She's the one with the blonde bob and the nose job -- I mean, the fake tan -- I mean...I mean, just look at her. She's the one under the thumb of our Svengali-esque parental figure. NOT ME. Because I am STRAIGHT UP FRESH [but still patriotic] NOW.  Knoxville told me to roll over and do it street style and I am DOING IT.  He said it would help my career.

Also, if I wear this skirt, I don't have to shave my legs.

Word. "