
First: I non-ironically love Solange's hair like this. On the other hand, I IRONICALLY love her habit of wearing bra tops all over the place lately.

The VIP section this year included a Shred-Your-Own machine, for celebrity subpoenas, tax papers, and, apparently, vests.

This weekend DOES present a stylistic conundrum for the likes of La Von Teese: how ought one dress for a weekend music festival in the desert when one only goes out looking like a 40s pin-up? I actually think this was a rather good solution: I hate the sailor hat -- must everything be so on the nose? -- but the dress is cute. Can we swap out a flower behind the ear for the chapeau? Bonus for the fact that she's also carrying a coconut. Seriously.

I sort of enjoy this as well; she looks like a waitress at a 1960s quasi-geisha-themed cocktail restaurant. It's nice to her angling closer to casual wear. Maybe one day we'll see her in jeans.

Sigh. Don't kill me, but I think Nicky looks cute.

Yeah, yeah, Lindsay. You're so put-upon. You never use the press for your own purposes. You're so creative to turn your incisive lens on thezzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. Sorry. Dropped off for a second there.

...continuing her stint as Lois Duncan cover-girl, this time for the little known 1970s YA thriller, STRANGER WITH MY WTF ARE YOU WEARING.

Dear Fashion, please don't make me wear high-waisted, acid-washed shorts again. PLEASE. PLEASE.

Although if I have to choose between high-waisted, acid-washed jeans and sheer crocheted pants...BRING IT ON, SHORTS.

The erstwhile e-cigarette purveyor actually looks kind of great, no? Has the acid-wash gotten to my brain?

I don't know about you, but my personal rule is, "If Britney did it, maybe you shouldn't," and that applies to shorts so short that your pocket linings are poking out as well as beating vehicles with umbrellas.

I think Katy Perry plays a tertiary role in the same Lois Duncan book that Isabel Lucas stars in. I fear that will end badly for her -- after all, someone in those things often gets garroted by her own lace maxi-dress.

I want to burn those shoes. Burn them with fire.

It's so cute when someone who never, ever gets papped acts like the paparazzi are ruining their lives. FIGHT THE POWER, BUD BUNDY.

Tara Reid looks scrawny, pantsless, and is wearing Uggs in deeply unseasonable weather. Have we all gone back to 2005? If so, I need to go -- I have to warn the 2005 me not to date this one dude. Be right back.

Now we're in business. Damon and Diane are clearly discussing the merits of various fedora makers, while Pacey appears to be plotting a murder.

Aw. All better.
