Miss Veronika Everheart, Tap Sensation

This fancy lady is a walking contradiction. Her shapely hooves sport a pair of kicky heels the likes of which we haven't seen since O'Reilly's Speakeasy over on East 37th closed. And those gaucho pants (not a skirt, as we initially believed) show she's ready to do the lindy hop or the mashed potato or a quickstep, depending on what bastardized decade we place her in. But what's this? Camouflage on top? No, you dancing queen! Why would you want to hide your light under a bushel?

But once our eyes reach the top of her head, with her poorly matched red hat and faded fuschia (is that even possible) scarf, we realized that this jazz cat isn't in camouflage to hide. It's a metaphor! Her snappy monochrome camo is simply an homage to the Prohibition years, when all those guys and dolls had to drink and dance and participate in other shenanigans and/or hootenannies in hiding. Now she's out on the streets and ready to party again!

So watch out for this one, if you see her coming down the road. There's no telling what kind of crazy allegedly mob-related fun you might have with her!

Queen Furrrocious of Heck's Angels

I honestly don't know what to make of this woman. Is she bipolar? Does she have multiple personality disorder, only one of her personalities lives in her vajay? I mean, each element of this ensemble is just gorgeous. The awkward gray leggings that cut her calves at the most awkward place possible, the wrinkled black skirt that even further stumpifies her, and that stunningly painted leather jacket. That last one is just a real piece of work. I mean, who even knew they made a Christian version of Final Fantasy, let alone sold merchandise for it?

But anyway, why? Why take each of these unique and fabulous items of clothing and put them together to create the fashionable equivalent of being between a rock and a hard place (if the rock and the hard place have just been thrown at your head at a great speed)? Well, after long thought, I've realized why this lovely dame isn't quite matching. Earlier this morning, I suspect, she was attempting to create a snappy look by using her Bedazzler(TM) to make the skirt even fiercier. However, despite her best efforts, it just wouldn't work. If everyone's role model Ms. Elle Woods had been there, she could have told Sassy McPleather the one rule every Cosmo girl should remember for all occasions: you can't Bedazzle rhinestones onto china silk - it'll pucker. Oh well, Sassy. Better luck next time! Good luck with all your future theological video game endeavors!

Slutty Mrs. Claus was a classy classy broad

You know, initially I had the brilliant (or so I thought) idea to write this post entirely in limericks. You know, "There was an old lady in Prague/Whose legs were the size of a log/She put on pink boots/And heard hollers and hoots/Saying 'Damn that old bitch is a hog!'"

However, then I realized that while I take pride in my ability to write a limerick about just about anything or anyone, there's no way I could get through this post without using the word "cankles," and not even I can think of something that rhymes with cankles. Plan failed.

But really, old lady. I will give you credit for the fact that, as this picture just shows your legs, you don't appear old at first glance, but trust me on this one. You are making so, so, so many poor choices here with your footwear.

First, you are wearing boots with a (relatively) short skirt. Which is it, old lady? Is it cold enough that you need boots or warm enough to wear knee-length skirts? Make up your damn mind!

Second, you are wearing pale pink boots with a reddish-pink skirt. Even if you looked out the window and decided "It looks pretty warm... but my feet might get cold!", why would you then pick two colors so gratingly close to matching... but not quite? Just because two colors both appear somewhere in your cardiovascular system does not mean they match.

Third... fur. On your boots. As if the incredibly stumpifying place they hit your calf isn't bad enough, you had to poof them out even further with the remains of a cute animal. Tacky, tacky, tacky. Three strikes... you're out!