Blake Lively vs. Kelly Ripa

Two dresses, two events, two lovely ladies (one gorgeously unfairly pretty, the other with biceps to rival Rocky's), one designer. Observe: we have the fair Blake Lively against the chipper and...muscular Kelly Ripa. Designer? Victoria Beckham -- yes, the same one who strides around town in galavanting steps and wears high heels as tall as my abdomen. Apparently, she makes dresses designed to sculpt and curve the body well. Very well. As in, can't-breathe-in-it-without-an-oxygen-mask well. But! they're not too shabby. But enough yammering; onto the good stuff!

Contestant #1:



Um. Blake Lively, can I marry you? No, seriously. This is hotter than a sunny, cloudless day in the middle of the Sahara desert with no water to quench one's parched lips and an impending heat stroke and you're dying and crawling and begging for some liquid to drink but there is none and you die and shrivel up in the scalding sun. Please, have my babies.

Contestant #2:

So, I know it might seem impossible to compare with Blake in this case, but Kelly is doing the best she can. The dress is fine and shiny and purple and not boring. Her hair is glossy. Her skin is nice and glowy. Her biceps are definitely not in the need of improvement. But, unfortunately, I believe this battle was already won as soon as Blake stepped out onto the floor.