Sunday, September 27, 2009

Mr. Snackwell's Worst Dressed for the Week

Somewhere around the time Michelle Obama became First Lady, I, Richard Snackwell, emerged from the grave and was reborn because the world still needed me too damn much.

Reading over "The never-ending fashion disaster" from last week, I also grasped that the gang at Third Estate Sunday Review needed me as well. For example, how can you comment on this outfit . . .


without noting both (a) the highly visible bra and the (b) the skirt that looks like a drop-cloth in a painter's studio?

Answer, darlings, you can't.

Last week, Lady nO continued her string of fashion disasters such as the one pictured below.


Often the only difference between a socialite and a run-of-the-mill drag queen comes down to grace. Slouched shoulders and all, Lady nO breezes through a party determined to salute the brava work of Wesley Snipes in To Wong Foo, Thanks For Everything, Julie Newmar. Note that the straps on her dress appear to resemble bra straps, note that the strand of pearls is far too long for that outfit. Note that she yet again appears unable to commit to a single color (a thread that runs through all her many fashion disasters). But most of all, note what the other women wear. No one else rushed to sport skin. Forever dressed for the party she missed, as opposed to the one she actually attended, that is Michelle Obama.

This photo features 22 women and yet Lady nO manages to stand out.


Of course, when you stand out for being the worst dressed woman present, the better alternative might have been attempting to blend in.


Mistakenly believing that she's in on the joke, Michelle provides some laughter of her own. You will note of the above disaster that she yet again could not decide which color to wear. You may also notice the belt which appeared as part of a previous fashion disaster. It not only looks tacky, it packs pounds to her already ample frame. Most of all you should notice that her hands are held as if to say, "Mommy needs to tinkle!" No one taught her grace so it's little surprise that they didn't bother to tell her that a lady never appears to cup her groin in public.

I had assumed I would be spending my time in the after life sipping appletinis and relaxing. But the emergence of Lady nO on the public stage demands that I return to offer the objective fashion judgments that no one else has the guts to make.

Until next time . . .
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