Here’s the lovely Coleen McLoughlin out last month at the Gwen Stefani concert in Manchester.
We’re thinking she’s not yet on board with Spanx undergarments. You?
Or, perhaps she’s another hapless victim of the dreaded Spanx-line, where the iron-woven granny pants cut into the stomach after doing their suction-like churchwork elsewhere on the body.
Hair looks good, though.
Carly Zucker at the Sky Mag party or Victoria Beckham at Shoreditch House?
Interesting choices for Louise Redknapp and Coleen McLoughlin on the red carpet at this year’s Fashion Rocks in London.
Who does black dress/red carpet better?
Note: please refrain from any comments regarding Coleen’s dress aging her by two decades and/or the precarious bosom-perch of Louise’s Stella McCartney number.
Coleen McLoughlin hit the Chanel party/Aubaine restaurant in London yesterday evening.
Her fiance Wayne was elsewhere. You know where. The situation we’re not talking about.
Nice to see Coleen working the black mourning outfit and paying her respects to the dire and the heartbreak that is the England squad.
It is with great regret that we make this announcement:
We have run out of snark.
Our snark has left the building.
It refuses to work under certain employment conditions, and being expected to comment intelligently and coherently on this fashion decision is one of them.
It was the earnest taupe kneesocks that pushed us over the edge. The frills of whimsy at the top. That’s what did us in. We may never recover. Pray for us, dear Kickettes.