Glitter for the street urchins.

Dear Eva Longorrhea,

Don't bend over!

Not even if Felicity Huffman throws a pancake on the floor in front of you. Not even if Tony Parker drops a handful of diamonds. (Okay, you know what? If Parker drops the sparklers, you go ahead and present your rump like a baboon in heat, just scoop up the ice! What was I thinking?) But I digress.

What I'm saying is, you are a lady of means (even on all fours, scrambling for diamonds) and you deserve a whole dress. I am a but a poor lass, begging for alms in the street. 'alf a fancy dress is more than I've 'ad in me 'ole life! (Oh God, apparently I'm also an 19th-century Cockney!)

Now get up off the floor, have a word with your stylist about hem length and send me the shimmery, rainbowy half dress, poste haste. I need to wrap it around Tiny Tim for warmth. You believe me, right?

Bless ye, kind lady!

His and Hers Glitter: Dita at Eurovision


Psssst, Dita,

Hey, I'm a nice girl who likes to help a sister out, so I have to tell you: Your boobs are showing. They are. A little bit. It’s cool, though. I think I have a safety pin. I don't even think that guy next to you saw anything! Say, by the way, I notice your hooters seem to have a touch of the fairy dust where it counts. And now that we're conspiratorial galpals and we share everything, I have to ask: Can you please give me those pasties? I don’t care if the sticky has already worn off. I will just superglue them onto me. That’s how bad I want diamondboobs.

Here's your chance to help a sister out, Dita. I'm counting on you. Thanks.

HIS TAKE (or Nancy's missed opportunity):

Psst "Alex Swings Oscar Sings!" dude,

Oscar (can I call you Oscar? You must be Oscar, right? Cause you're singing and not swinging), LOVE the pants!! Dita is definitely rocking her sparkle teats and she is a lovely drink of water. But let's talk about you for a moment...bravo. Bravo, I say, at your choice of costume! You and Miss Dita are shining (quite literally) examples of the theory to emphasize your best features. I am happy to tell you that Eurovision finally has seen some class upon it's stage. But Eurovision won't last forever and the whole world (except America, of course [side note: HELLO, can we please air this in the USA, please! Come on! Who do I have to blow in programming to get this on the air?]) has already seen these mirrored beauties, so let me have them. I know that I'd have bit of extra manscaping to do, you know down there, but I think they'd be a big hit at the dog park.