Next we have the inexplicable Victoria Beckham. I shall not endeavor to delve into the why-ness of her at this time (or suggest that rhinoplasty has nothing to do with actual rhinoceroses and she shouldn't be quite so hesitant to look into it)...I'd just like to take a moment point out the coolness of that boobie-framing dress.

And here we have the equally inexplicable Mischa Barton, who clearly does not own a mirror. But I'm more interested in how this walking stick of low-fat margarine gets actual acting jobs. She is, I swear, as uninteresting as orthopaedic dentistry. I've had mochas from Starbucks with more personality than she displays.

On the "oh my god, yessss" side of the page, we have the delectable Julian McMahon. I don't watch the Nip/Tuck show (anti-heroes are not my bag, baby) but this guy is fucking lickable, isn't he? Apparently he's having some sort of sexual identity-crisis on the show that has the Advocate all giddy that he's 'on their side.' Whatever. Who needs sides as long as everyone's getting off, I always say.

Equally edible is Amy Smart, apparently starring in a new show this fall called "Smith". If she's going to look like this every time out, I'm going to need to keep my vibe handy. And my husband, too, I suppose.

Other Celebrity Bits Not Worthy of an Entire Paragraph but Still Mildly Interesting:

'Guerilla Artist Banksy's Barely Legal exhibition - Guerilla artist? No, CON artist. Stop encouraging bullshit like this, you idiots.

The real reason Paramount dumped Tom "I'm a FREAK!" Cruise - The fact that we recognize Scientology as an actual fucking religion makes *us* the joke, people.

"Napoleon Dynamite" to be a dad - If they don't name the kid Napoleon Firecracker, I believe I will cry.

There, didn't that feel good? A little bit of bitching, a little bit of lusting...refreshing. Onward...

Celebrity and fashion go hand in hand. It's a sad fact that designers cannot buy the kind of advertising they get when some empty-headed fashionista "accidentally" leaves her 10K Hermes bag full of *coff* a million bucks worth of jewelry lying around an airport, so having some bony-arsed heiress trot down the runway in your gear is nearly as good as just giving her the shit for free and hoping she's photographed working it at some LA nightspot. Therefore, we shall have a fashion roundup at the end of every visit to Celebrity Hell, and this week's should be a doozy, thanks to Olympus Fashion Week in NY, but I'm essentially lazy, so how about we just hit the high points...

What we liked (so far):

Rock & Republic is flat-out jamming. These clothes work anywhere, any time, any place.

Nicole Miller is gorgeous. Beautiful fabrics and detailing, for when you want to get all girly.

Proenza Schouler is kicky. Funky colors and cuts make this the business wear for the fuck-your-power-suits crowd.

What we hated (so far):

Baby Phat proves once again that with great money does not necessarily come great taste. Kimora Simmons is a fucking joke, and that purple head leaf alone is enough to warrant her arrest.

Heatherette seemed to be more interested in putting on an off-Broadway production than a fashion show. Gold lame pants? Please.

Imitation of Christ is, I am told, one of the most haute of the haute couture houses. But seriously, it looks like the designers just took six months to smoke pot and fuck around, then slapped this crap together the night before the show, doesn't it? It's not just me, is it??

And there you have it, our first FFTW foray into Celebrity Hell. I'll see you next week with more badness. Bring a machete, won't you?