Fifteen Minutes: Tongue in Sheik

Spring's calling for a riveting game of mothball ping pong. Throw discriminating palates and post-lobotomy brain stems to the wind,
By Candie EE Darling

Spring's calling for a riveting game of mothball ping pong. Throw discriminating palates and post-lobotomy brain stems to the wind, sweethearts, because garish is back in. Time to raid mum's closet for a taste of retro ugliness.

Paisley. Polka-dots. Python skin. Candie shits you not. After all, if Emanuel Ungaro says jaunty pink polka-dots are a-okay even for those who haven't yet run away to join the circus, who are we to argue?

Heating up the home range, the southwest turns super-spicy. Any aspiring fashion hussy's wardrobe should be able to outfit both sides of General Custers' Last Stand. Every yuppie's really a cowgirl at heart. Perfect garb for cow-tipping and shit-kicking: sandblasted jean jackets by Calvin Klein and long denim skirts studded with faux plastic by Christian Dior. Throw on some floral moccasins, beaded earrings, and fringed bell-bottoms for a dynamo ensemble good for the office, a hot date, or an afterschool powwow.

Give carte blanche to film noir. Elegant trenchcoats and khakis are for sexy gumshoes of the '40s and beautiful bods of today. Think bright coral lipstick is only for your decomposing Great Aunt Hortense? Think again. Any would-be femme fatales knows that salmon orange is the only color worth puckering up for.

Oh yes, then there's a trendy new bastard sister to the tired tube top. These over the shoulder boulder holders by Max Mara and Plein Sud bare one sun-kissed shoulder for all admiring leches in tow. Try these in citrus colors, such as light lemon and apricot, to heighten winter pallor.

Maverick Yves Saint-Laurent introduces the killer white satin suit. Oh, you rebel boy, you, splashing a West Egg garden party in your whites (gasp!) before Memorial Day.

Resurrect Donovan's dark-eyed blue jean angel by dressing up in art nouveau. Revel in floral embroidery, ostentatious ornamentation, and sheer drapery. Strive for a turn-of-the-century cigar poster look. Mr. Marlboro, he daid, but carcinogenic divas rock on forever.

Next week: Faux pas or foie gras? Candie takes to the streets in fishnets and a beehive-do. Cambridge beware.

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