This is beaded, slightly retro, a color… I was prepared to go where it wanted to take me.
And then I saw that the road signs said “Hmmville” so I opened the car door and rolled out and down a nearby embankment and then walked to the nearest gas station. (For a Diet Coke, obviously — I couldn’t call Jessica to pick me up without proper fortification.) Because, is it just me, or does this look weird on her? I can’t exactly put into words the problem, but I look at it, I want to like it, and I can’t. It’s just not… it’s just not. It is awry. Strange things are afoot at the Circle J.
This feels like a very half-assed pink dye job, to the point where I keep expecting to read a story on the Interwebs that claims her child squirted her with puree and she decided to turn it into a tribute. I’m not saying hot pink streaks or some other follicular rainbow would have been awesome, but I’ll say this for the likes of Kelly Osbourne: At least she commits.