Class, not crotch.

I'm not one of those virtuous Victorian-esque prudes who are so fixated on propriety and take fashion so seriously. But I don't think that my ideas of feminism dissolve simply because I would like to see women... um, WEARING CLOTHES.

Sienna wants you guys to take her seriously as an actress. The part that mentions taking her seriously as an occasional stripper remains unsaid but understood.

I'm all for feminine liberation from archaic concepts of homemaking and the expectations that women should be nurturing, unquestioning ninnies. I truly believe that if I had lived during the late 19th century/early 20th century, I would've been one of those self-righteous, broach-wearing protesters thrown in jail, petticoat and all. But I strongly oppose the belief that female liberation must equate to the oversexualization of the arguably more objectified of the genders.

Towel dresses are the new LBDs. Audrey Hepburn must be rolling over in her grave.

More specifically, why don't women keep their freaking pants on anymore? What's so glamorous and sexy about being nude in public? I lack the understanding of just how this new "bare" look is attractive in any way whatsoever. Anyone considering this new "trend" and showing more than their share of skin would look better if they taped a sign to their back with an arrow pointing down at their ass cheeks hanging out that says, "Opening tonight: watch my cottage cheese jiggle. Limited tickets."

Paris Hilton, a constant offender. I'm tempted to assume that she keeps her bottom bare in order to easily have access her ninja throwing stars in case of any paparazzi. But maybe I'm being too optimistic.

It perturbs me even more when I realize that I am actually hesitant to tell my opinion to others, as if I don't want to them to see me as a prudish grandma who finds even turtlenecks scandalizing. I also realize that this is what current culture has evolved to and I, as an individual, can do little to change this new vulgar representation of women. I'm just disappointed that instead of women looking up to beautiful icons (Grace Kelly, anyone) and dressing like them, they are resorting to replicating their outfits based on the transvestites on a Jersey City street corner.

You have to wonder what's going through her mind when she chooses this to wear and knows she will be on stage. She would've been more subtle if she had just lifted up her dress in mid-speech.

The mother of all flashers.

An possible Oscar-worthy documentary that could rival Al Gore's climate project tribute: what goes through her mind when she's putting on clothes (or... not) in the morning.

The holiday season's not quite the same without those puppies wishing you a Happy Hannukah.

Oops, she did it again. (Couldn't resist.)

So I'm at a loss for words. As fashion becomes less and less about clothes and as women continue to believe in showing more and more skin, I still don't feel compelled to change my opinion that coverage is old, outdated, outmoded. There nothing classy or appealing about vaginas flapping around in mid-air. Oui!