I'm pretty sure there is a good reason the creator of this little number was kicked off of Project Runway last week:
(screenshot courtesy of Project Rungay)
For those not up on their fashion, I think the most glaring flaw was its over-resemblance to another designer's oeuvre, the designer in question being a truckstop hooker from Oklahoma who hit her head falling off a mechanical bull during July of 1996 and can now never move past that moment in her life or in her clothing choices.
So, the obvious question here is: why did anyone think it would be a good idea to name a nail polish after the two traits of this dress that combine to make it totally and irredeemably hideous?
Let's do a little stream-of-conscious word association for "skin tight denim." I'll start. Skanky, uncomfortable, rent-a-strippers dressed as participants of the California Gold Rush, desperate, doesn't make your butt look as good as you think it does, yeast infection, how fun would it be if you could order 49ers for your bachelorette party and tip them with gold nuggets, good luck fitting your keys and chapstick into your pocket, not going to be able to sew yourself into that in six months so enjoy it while you can, ooh if we expanded to include Yukon Gold Rush strippers we could call the company Robert W. At-Your-Service.
Aside from my genius new business plan, that did not seem to generate many positive connotations. It's like N.Y.C. came up with a really pretty shade of blue and then decided it would be really hip to create "ironic" contrast by naming it after the tackiest fabric possible.
Wait, what's that? You're telling me they decided to name this delicate color...
Fine. Just fine. I'm going to sleep this off. Somebody wake me up in 2010 or whenever we've decided it is OK to wear clothes that don't desecrate the human body again, whichever comes first.