So the hubs and I just watched The Voice finale on DVR. Spoiler alert (if you've somehow managed to avoid every news program for the last 24 hours): the black dude won. And good for him - he's got an amazing voice and a beautiful family to feed. He's awesome, seriously. Kudos, Jermaine. But more importantly, at least on my radar, bon voyage, Juliet, you fabulous, exotic flower you. We won't discuss her performance with Flo Rida - we just won't go there. I will however touch upon her ever-changing mane throughout the season, from dishwater to platinum to the eggplanty ombre concoction she was sporting last night... I dig it, all of it. She is a divine chameleon, a canvas for color and clothing and shiny, spiky things. I will say that I prefer the original, blind auditions version of her coif above all others, but no matter. She works it all and works it well. And the fashion - my Gawd! From full-body feathers to tip-to-tail sequins to linebacker-meets-Gaga shoulders, SHE wears that shit. It doesn't wear her. And did I mention she can SING? Like, I now believe in reincarnation because CLEARLY Janis Joplin = Juliet Simms. Do you hear me? This chick has literally changed my religious beliefs. So here's to you, Juliet, you beautimous, anthem-belting, badass bitch. I know we have not seen the last of you.
|O.G. Juliet. Instant love!|
|Gypsy Juliet. I die.|
|She shoulda won. There, I said it.|