Kelly Clarkson

NIC CAGE: Kelly, lemme tell you something.

KELLY CLARKSON: Is it that you were so taken with how good I look in this color green that it took you twenty minutes to realize that, despite how fetching the shade is, it's attached to a set of overalls, and that's only okay if you are a farmer, in the late stages of pregnancy, or trapped in 1996?

NIC: No.

KELLY: Is it that you like me with my hair this length, and you're glad I'm not blonde anymore?

NIC: No, although that's true.

KELLY: Is it about From Justin to Kelly? Because if it is, then I'm afraid I'm going to have to bring up Captain Corelli's Mandolin.

NIC: That film was a sensitive exploration of...something! Love, or Italy or something! Sensitive! You wore a SKIRT OF TIES in From Justin to Kelly.

KELLY: And I rocked it.

NIC: That's not what I was going to say, ANYWAY, before you get all DEFENSIVE about your TIES.

KELLY: What is it, old man? I'm not going to marry you, either, just so you know.

NIC: You're sassy. I like that.

KELLY: Please don't do this.

NIC: Sorry, I got distracted. I wanted to ask you what you thought of my new look. It's sort of Ghost Rider meets John Wayne plus a little tiny bit of Elvis, because I am obsessed with Elvis and take a piece of him with me everywhere, with just a SPLASH of Stetson cologne. What do you think?

KELLY: I think you look weird.

NIC: Weird? Weird how?

KELLY: I dunno. You're Nicolas Cage. You don't wear cowboy hats. You look like you're going to the funeral of a rodeo clown or something.

NIC: You ARE sassy.  Why don't you scoot a little bit closer?

KELLY: Leave me alone.

Remember the first season of American Idol, when we all rooted for Kelly Clarkson over Paula Abdul's poofy-haired and bepenised favorite, Justin Guarini? And we were all really happy that she won, because, among other things, we were kind of tired of the show ramming shots of Justin's dad down our throats? Yes, he was a police chief, and even though he didn't raise Justin, he's here now and they're fine and that's great and oh, look, there he is again, crying, and there he is AGAIN, and look, AGAIN, and OH MY GOD, WE GET IT.

Let me refresh your memory, in case those heady days are too far behind you and you never happened to catch the cinematic abortion that is From Justin To Kelly (which, if you didn't, don't, but you ARE missing out on her dancing around in a skirt made of ties).

Here is Justin Guarini.

His curly mop was his signature -- well, that, and singing some longing love song or other (I think it was "Get Here") directly at Paula, causing her to break into a sweat of potent yearning -- and although I never really got swept away by the 'fro, or by him, I appreciated that he had something distinctive going.

And yet, I also never thought I'd miss it if it went away.

Until now.

We had hoped Kelly Clarkson's days of ridiculous and unflattering concert wear were long behind her. After all, she is adorable, talented, by all accounts very unaffected by fame and in fact rather delightful, and she seems like she'd be such a fun girl to go grab a beer with and talk about boys and clothes.

She is also -- from the one time I saw her in town, when she walked past me -- is very normal-sized, and that is refreshing in an industry that miscasts "normal" as some kind of brave statement, and rewards the size-0 waifs whose only solids are taken in via the nostril in powder form.

So I cannot for the LIFE of me figure out what sadistic asshead keeps putting our beloved K.Cla in skanky disasters that make her look 20 pounds heavier than her lovely figure actually is:

Here we have a person who's adored by millions of young girls, and for all the right reasons, unlike so many empty, talentless, overtanned disasters. She has not attempted to starve herself into oblivion. She's actually a good role model. And therefore, while I'm happy that she evidently feels confident on-stage in anything her stylist throws at her, I do wish people would actually try and FLATTER HER BODY, please.

She also doesn't seem especially suited to the new edict that only singers who wear cargo pants and/or dress like punk strippers can earn street cred. [Remember how nobody cared about Assica Simpson until she dyed her hair brown and started wearing too many necklaces, baggy pants, and Converse?] I feel like such image makeovers might be required when you're trying to trick people into believing your client can sing, but Kelly actually can. Now, if she wants to be a cargo chick, so be it, but my point remains: Can we please put away the shirts that make her look like a walking pear?

K Cla, K Cla, K Cla.

I don't know how many times I have to say it.

I love you and all. But this has GOT TO STOP. A shirt that you thread through your belt loops? No. Just no. First of all, I can't imagine how difficult it is to get in and out of the bathroom in this get-up, but I suspect it puts the old Overalls and Body Suit [Winner of both the Toughest Bathroom Outfit Award of 1993 AND the Toughest Bathroom Outfit of All Time] to shame.

But let's just say that, since it's your concert, you can take as much time to pee as you like.  Do you not care that, with the gloves and the jacket, you look like Stevie Nicks from the breastbone up, and with the....other stuff.....you look like Xina from the breastbone down? Those, unlike peanut butter and chocolate, are not two great tastes that go great together. Your outfit is more like gefilte fish and caramel: two tastes that need to be kept as far away from each other as possible. Possibly with judicious use of a restraining order.

Seriously. I mean it when I say that I love you. But there are some things that our love can not endure, and your crazy-ass concert ensembles are on that list, right after "allegedly slept with Justin Guarini." Please fire your stylist, and then I can go back to thinking about how much fun we'd have trying on jeans at the mall and talking about stupid boys and then going out to the local pub and getting really trashed on Pabst and stumbling home to watch selected scenes from Annie and then waking up in a dried pool of our own spittle the next morning, worried about the Guarini-related drunk dials we may or may not have made at some point in the Pabst-drinking. Because it generally seems like you're adorably normal and thus should not be cavorting about in anything that smells of Dominatrix. Okay?

Good.

Kelly Clarkson is vexing indeed. She's an adorable girl with prodigious talent, but of late, some style choices -- or those of her people -- almost have us pining for the days when American Idol was dressing her like the prom queen.

Take, for instance, this ensemble, which looks like a morbid throwback to Madonna in the 1980s:

[Photo: infdaily.com]

She made it through the wilderness of From Justin to Kelly; somehow, she made it through. But I didn't know how lost she was until I saw tulle. Anyone who can wear a skirt made of neckties -- neckties! -- and live to tell the tale deserves a little bit more than a black mesh nightmare with a Michael Jackson tribute glove. She looks like she's going to the funeral of her own fashion sense.

And this is apparently what she wore when she sang at the wake: