Yuck, yuck, yuck.

Since this is a blog about style, I must in fact include some posts about people who lack style. I am clearly more prone to write about women whose style I love (some faves who I have not written about: Cate Blanchett, Camila Belle, Rachel Bilson) but today is Friday and I had too much wine last night, so I am going to write about someone who has none: Britney Spears.

Now for those of you who know me, and have known me, I have never liked Miss Spears. I have actually never purchased a CD of hers (though I did buy "Toxic" on ITunes recently. That is probably her best song to date... Oh, and "I'm a Slave For You" that's a good one. I digress, sorry.) nor have I seen her in concert. I think she is a train wreck personally and professionally. My reason for not liking said Pop Star is mainly because she continuously presents herself in an unlikable way. Ever since she became famous it is as though she is slapping her fans in the face with a denim dress to match her boyfriend, punching them in the gut when she goes to Starbucks looking like a homeless person and/or pushing them out a window of a high-rise by performing at the VMA's looking like an out of shape ring leader with a bad cut and color. People pay big bucks to see her shows and buy her music, yet she still runs around town like she doesn't care! We know the broad has money, even if she is paying for K Fed's alimony, she has no excuse to dress the way she does. She has a responsibility to show young girls what it looks like to be young and famous, and what does she do with that responsibility? She chews it up, spits it out, steps on it and then leaves it to dry up on the side walk. I was always told to dress for the job you want, not the one you have. If we are going by this mantra for Britney, by the looks of it she wants a job as a either a $2 Lady of the night, Bum, or Lindsey Lohan's assistant.

Brit, let's me and you have a convo. I get you don't like the publicity/non privacy portions of your career, but it is best to get over that and behave like an independent woman who is successful, who at one time was in amazing shape, who can dance, and is going to be in the spotlight. So Brit, now that you are 28 years-old, please, please, please stop going out in public with hair extensions so bad it makes me feel like I need to shower.

Phew, I feel better. Perhaps being over served last night has it's perks, gets my aggression out through writing!