[Photo: PacificCoastNewsOnline.com]
"Hello, and welcome to Garden of Eden Raw Food Utopia. While you're waiting for your table, please enjoy a bowl of our complimentary colon-cleansing radish crackers with sprout dressing."
Here's the thing: I almost made this a "Fug or Fab," until I realized that I pretty solidly come down on the "fab" side when it comes to this outfit.

[Photo: Splash News]
It's a beautiful color on our favorite tiny Aussie superstar, and she's glowing. It's kind of hard to believe Kylie is almost 40, and that it was a full twenty years ago that I was sitting in my bedroom wailing along to "I Should Be So Lucky," wishing I had her hair and thinking that crazy hat from the album cover was probably the coolest thing anyone had ever put on their body in the ENTIRE history of bodies (hey, I was young, she was my favorite, it was the 80s... a lot of things I felt strongly about were, in retrospect, completely ridiculous). Indeed, I should be so lucky as to look that great at 40 AND after surviving both a harrowing medical condition.
My only real moment of concern was whether the tulle wrap shooting out of her right boob was too much -- whether it ended up overwhelming her. But then I decided I didn't care, because she's so regal and pretty and there's something deliciously old-movie about that piece of fabric. Back in the day when people would dress for dinner, getting all fancy whether they were going to a club for dancing and a meal or just coming back downstairs to eat it at their table, I could totally see Kylie swanning in wearing that dress and puffing on a superlong cigarette holder (since of course back then nobody knew or cared that cigs were so terrible for you), dangling a brandy glass from her fingertips and drawling words like "darling" and "devilish" in conversation with the local rogue, whom she will of course end up marrying. Maybe she should MAKE that movie somehow.
Listen, I am thrilled that Kylie Minogue should be so lucky, lucky-lucky-lucky, to get through an ordeal like breast cancer, and with such dignity. I've loved Kylie since she was Charlene on Neighbours and her and Scott's trailer with all their possessions in it exploded, and yet mysteriously the next week she was still wearing all the exact same loud sweaters and earrings. I was squealing right along with the other pre-teens when she and Jason Donovan (Scott) released that terrible, terrible love duet, "Especially For You," and was pretty convinced they needed to get married and have little neighbourly babies and be together FOREVER because CLEARLY THE SONG WAS REAL.
Anyway, my point is: love Kylie. But that doesn't mean I have to love how her hair is shaping itself now.
I'm going to ignore the glove, which is rather silly-looking -- I feel like Alexis would wear those on Dynasty if she felt like she might accidentally break a vase over the head of whatever businessman was refusing to give her the oil leases she so craves. But since I'm fairly sure Kylie isn't in any kind of criminal mood today, she should just put that thing away and keep her hand warm in a more practical, less Michael Jackson Throwback kind of way.
No, my chief concern here is how OLD that hair is. It could star in its own late-70s sitcom. It feeds on prunes, uses words like "upchuck" and "my stars" and calls Kylie "a darling girl," and gets pensioner discounts to all the tourist attractions in England. In, fact, when I first saw it, I immediately thought of one person in particular:
Oh, Kylie. Is this Sharon Stone's influence?

I don't mean to point fingers, but let's look at the evidence: Yesterday, Kylie looked adorable. Then Sharon Stone rubbed her armpits all over everyone's favorite plucky pixie with one of the world's most cherished bums, and suddenly, she's part-dominatrix, part-lampshade. Pull her string and she'll either whip you with a bike chain or you'll get some nice, soft reading light. Or both.
Now, I suppose La Stone is innocent until proven guilty, but know this, Sharon: If Kylie takes off her thigh-belt and uncrosses her legs in a wanton act of pantylessness, my index finger of judgment will have no choice but to gesture angrily in your direction. And if that causes me to sprain anything, well, honey, it will be ON.
We weren't going to say anything about this, because Kylie Minogue has been through a lot and we are surprisingly soft-hearted when we forget to take our meds. But then we slowly realized that what has happened to her on the cover of Australian Vogue is not Kylie's fault. Therefore, we can show you the monstrosity without guilt.
Without further ado, except for the ado of adding another preceding sentence rather than just tossing it up:

What have those wizards of Oz done with the nation's favorite pert-bummed princess? Her skin isn't pale, it's pasty; her eyes are all askew, she's dressed like a warrior princess of yore who just discovered Like A Virgin, and they have gone to great lengths to enhance whatever innately rabbity qualities her teeth may have. In fact, overall, she looks completely hammered. Off-her-tree plastered. And I think a woman who just survived breast cancer deserves a little better, wouldn't you say? Something classy, something sexy, something that proves she's still every bit the bombshell she was before she grappled with the disease. Instead she got an audition photo for Terminator 4. And as much as I'd like to see her out there working, that's not exactly what I had in mind.

A book, huh? Is it just stuff you already put on the Web site?
Nope, we wrote the whole thing fresh, just for you.
Awesome. In that case, I want to read it!
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