Paula Abdul

When American Idol ends every season, I am SO RELIEVED to be done with having to listen to Paula Abdul. I don't even start watching the show until the final ten or twelve, or whatever, and I never watch the results show, and that is STILL my limit. But after this pleasant hiatus -- during which, the other day, I caught her on Martha Stewart's show, where she characteristically slurred and mumbled her way through a cookie segment and it looked like Martha had to lean in to catch what she was saying, and was being a bit forcibly jolly to make up for it; awkward -- I am finally ready to see her out and about again. ESPECIALLY when she delivers with something as resplendent as this:


[Photo: WENN]

WOW. And so our twisted love affair begins anew. I'm going to want to wring the wishy-washy ot of her come April, but right now, I just want to know WHERE and WHEN I can catch her performing a Civil War re-enactment with the Rockettes. And where she keeps her musket.

Halloween is such a phenomenal spectator sport. It must take real skill for people like, say, Paris Hilton or Audrina Patridge to figure out how they can show skin and tease up their hair in a different way that could be construed as a costume. Half the C-list gets dolled up as Sexy Angels, Sexy Devils, Sexy Women In Black Corsets And Random Wigs, and Super-Naked Sexy Take On A Random Profession That Usually Does Not Require Visible Navels; mixed in there, you will occasionally get some awesome costumes, but more often than not it's the type of "Yay, I have an actual excuse to show my bra" stuff that we all did when we were 23.

This time, though, full marks for creativity to Ashton Kutcher. If you doubt that he wears the pants in his marriage, I am here to tell you that he is at least SOMETIMES in full be-trousered control. Because he convinced Demi Moore to go with him in costume... as ,according to our image provider (and I suspect it is correct based on the photo) a GIANT NIPPLE:


[Photo: Splash News]

Not only that, but he convinced her to wear puffy flesh-toned leggings AND made her carry the nipple into the club from the car -- apparently, she was too embarrassed to put on the costume while they were in the street. So instead, she buried her head in the pink felt areola. To HIDE. Granted, yes, this is a woman who once wore bike shorts to the Oscars, but those do not look like the actions of a person who is proud to be a nipple. I wish I'd been a fly on the wall of that conversation, when Ashton was like, "Honey, I have the BEST costume idea. But I need you." And Demi was all, "Mmm-hmm, sweetie, sure, can you pass me Parade magazine? I need to study Nicole Kidman's face." So Ashton went, "THANK YOU. Because a giant nipple pillow cannot be borne by man alone," and Demi was like, "Say WHAT? God, what would Marilyn vos Savant think..." and Ashton frowned and said, "That's funny, Cameron Diaz told me she thought it was brilliant..." resulting in Demi clenching so hard she broke three teeth and then did a shot of bourbon before nodding her agreement. Well played, Ashton. It's deliciously tacky, and yet the fact that you pulled this off kind of makes me cherish you deeply.

Speaking of deliciously tacky:

When American Idol isn't on the air, I kind of miss Paula Abdul's nonsensical natterings about how whichever poor slob is up to bat really made the song her own and truly spoke to the soul of the unicorns who live in her swimming pool and is a sparkling jewel in the firmament of paradise but was a little off-key. I also miss her tendency to show up wearing, like, a choker as a bra and a pair of jeans on her head. Which is why this pleases me:

Remember this look, ladies, because you're going to see it again come fall. Or, technically, come January 1st, because I am pretty sure it's the prototype for one of the Rose Parade's floats this year.

A Play in Three Acts:

ACT ONE: THE MEETING:

PAULA: Hello....? Do I...? Are we....?

PHOEBE: Let's take a picture, Paula! Imagine how well a photo of two such classy celebrities such as ourselves will sell! You are a famed songstress, and I a brave warrior for the civil liberties of F-list celebrities!

PAULA: Have I been drinking?

ACT TWO: THE PRESS OP

PAULA: Psst, you guys! Who is this person? Also, does the bodice of my dress look like I stuffed it with toilet paper? I can't tell.

PHOEBE: Guest-judge spot on Idol, HERE I COME!

PAULA: I feel like my face is making that bemused look but I can't control it.

ACT THREE: THE REASON FOR THE SEASON

PAULA: OH! You're the Miss Golden Globe of this event! I GET IT NOW.

PHOEBE: Another step toward my world domination!

Wow, Paula Abdul looks kind of great.

That's a nice, rich color, and I love her hair.

Of course... the sleeve is sliding off her shoulder on one side, isn't it? And the sparkly embellishments look a tiny bit like Spider Man threw a tantrum in her limo.

But it's PAULA, you know? I feel like it's a blessing if she even manages to wander into the correct party, on the right day, using real words in a believable order.

Allow me to walk you though the experience of watching American Idol in my house last night:

ME: Hang on. What happened to Paula's left sleeve? Did Simon finally get the point where he just couldn't take her nonsensical ramblings anymore and rip it off in a rage?

ME: Hold the phone. Is she wearing pleather elbow-length GLOVES? With assorted bracelets?

ME: REWIND. ARE THOSE GLOVES FINGERLESS? Also, is she doing the Macarena right now?

ME: REWIND THE PHONE AND HOLD ON TO IT. Fingerless pleather elbow-length gloves covered in bracelets and capped off with a cocktail ring? Am I seeing this? I think I am seeing this. Maybe I hit my head at some point today and now I'm hallucinating. That's probably what's going on here. Why can't I hallucinate about Brad Pitt? Is that Kristy Lee Cook singing "God Bless the USA"? WHERE DID MOMMY PUT HER GIN?

I realize that Paula's dress is like this on purpose. I do. And in theory, I don't disapprove.

But in practice, it's PAULA ABDUL. She has to know that, simply by dint of being Paula Abdul, people would take one look at this and blindly assume not that her dress was designed that way, but rather that she was too busy drinking butterfly tears from the hoof of a centaur to know that her sparkly undergarment was showing. And when you're Paula Abdul, surely at this point you are tired of people staring at you with furrowed brows, wondering things like whether you can complete a sentence, or if anyone in your inner circle thoughtfully dosed you with mind-altering drugs to erase the memory of your vanity-project reality show. SURELY, given ALL that, you would want to wear something safe, something that couldn't possibly make anyone leap to the conclusion that you are in a constant state of confusion.

Then again... well, I said it already: It's PAULA ABDUL. Nothing is certain except that she enjoys how you've grown, both with your soul and in your cup of Coca-Cola that the angels rained onto your heart. Plus, at this point, it's possible she can't wear anything without us finding a reason to scratch our chins and ponder her clarity of mind. We should probably be content with the fact that she's fully clothed and didn't have any lines during the telecast.

Victory in our time!

That's right, Paula, celebrate. You look ... cute! I KNOW! The dress is fun, the shoes are fantastic, and although your Botox problem has your "smile" looking slightly more like a twisted grimace, I also know that's just unfortunate timing on this picture and I can relate because I am horribly unphotogenic. Although it does sort of look like you are resisting while Craig Ferguson is trying to escort you quickly and quietly to your car so it can take you back to the loony bin, but whatever -- I'm starting to find your incoherence and faux-drunken shenanigans amusing (to the point where I wish you'd attributed your fashion pick to the little sprites who dance on your shoulders and really shine in their own light of special rainbows; maybe you did).

Also, I do believe I actually heard you give an OPINION on American Idol last night, something that wasn't just a regurgitation of whatever Randy said before you. Did my ears deceive me? I almost hit my head on the coffee table when I fainted, I was so surprised. So well played indeed, Ms. Abdul. Let's shoot for one more of those per show. Okay? Great. Baby steps.

"YEE-HAW! I mean, hello. I'm Paula Abdul.

"I am late for my shift at Hogs and Heifers but you know what? I just have to tell you something. This awards show...has really....you've really....you touch me, Nickelodeon Awards Show thingie. I'm....touched. By your spirit. Your spirit is like the scent of uniforms -- I mean, unicorns -- unicorns. I like unicorns. They're shiny. Like my boots.  And my belt buckle. And my labels. Lapels. Labpels. La la la la LAPEL! I'm sorry, that was totally pitchy, wasn't it? What would Simon say? SIMON SAYS! I like that game. It sounds like rainbows, and rainbows taste like cookies. I know you're wondering why I have a leash attached to my belt and the way you asked me about it really moved me. I am moved by it. I'm not allowed to tell you the answer because the goblins will eat   my pants if I do. So SHHHH, don't ask. But just keep being a shining star in the sky of this orange carpet and know that your soul is the pants on the mannequin of the world, okay? Now I really have to go. If I'm more than 15 minutes late they make me work the back room and the guys in there are so handsy."

Because when you think about the celebrities who are unlikely to be able to negotiate a long, ruffled scarf, fairly high heels and knickers without getting the scarf wrapped around the heels, falling knickers over tea kettle and accidentally getting strangled Isadora-Duncan-style...well, Paula Abdul is kind of on the top of the list.

Seriously. She's at least in the top three.