Jessica,

I caught this photograph of you from the Costume Institutes's Gala earlier this week. Like all award shows, I'm sure you face lots of pressure and mixed messages from your stylists and your handlers. You've never been the most stylish celebrity out there, but I have to say, you have really crossed a line with this one.

Jonathon already addressed your orange skin and hair, so I feel like it would be counterproductive for me to strike your knuckles for committing the same crime twice. Beside, as it so happens, your Cheetos look isn't even in the top four of this outfit's offenses.

Let's list them out:
1. The lips. They look like earthworms. Give the collagen a break.
2. Your expression. Did someone open up a jar of dog food on the red carpet?
3. The fake boobs. They look like latex covered coconuts -- you should be suing your plastic surgeon for malpractice, not parading them around town in a skimpy dress.
4. The dress. Let me guess, you gambled away all of your money on blackjack in Atlantic City and the only way you could make it back in time for the Gala was to sell your outfit to a showgirl superfan in exchange for her outfit and her Chinatown shuttle ticket.

The bottom line is this, Jessica, it might be hard to fake happiness, but you've got John Mayer to fake it with you, so you might as well enjoy the good scenery while the PR stunt holds out.

Consider therapy, too.

Am