Okay, it’s time for a trip down memory lane. Remember the summer of 2006? Nicole Richie drove the wrong way down the freeway and went to jail. Paris went to jail, in possibly the internet’s Greatest Moment of Schadenfreude of the Aughts (I found out that she was going to the slammer while I was getting my jeans hemmed at Denim Doctors, this at-the-time very trendy jean repair joint, and I got to break the news to the people working there, all of whom SQUEALED WITH GLEE and clapped and gasped and it was basically, I’m sure, just what it was like for people back in the day to witness the moon landing, except instead of, you know, a mind-bogglingly tremendous achievement of bravery, intellect, scientific will and the human spirit, it was the exact opposite of those things.) Lindsay Lohan was in constant trouble with the law. And now, please come back to the current day. Lindsay Lohan is in constant trouble with the law. Paris is out of the pokey and exists in a state of sort of dim-witted yet harmless stasis in Los Angeles. Nicole is married, has two babies, two books, about two thousand side projects, and owns this dress:
Girlfriend pretty much wins.