The other day, somebody wondered why we always Fug or Fab Angelina Jolie. All I can really say is, “Because I can never make up my mind what I think of her clothes.” it is very hard to separate her from her own mystique, from the sheer size of her fame and associated stature, and so all those things roll together to make you wonder if she’s wearing something legitimately good, or simply carrying off something you might not otherwise like, or in fact regally wetting the bed. She definitely has an authoritative air about her, she has a face that I personally think is her greatest asset in elevating her outfits, AND she has her own history of bland caftans to contend with that influences our relief over things like, say, this red dress:
She is also marriage-adjacent to Chaz Hands, formerly Ned Pantywaist, formerly the third-most successful Fiat dealer in all of Cannes, formerly B.Pittz, formerly Brad Pitt. And I’m so heartened to see him halfway back to the promised land that I might be blinded to all reality. Let’s take a look at Angelina on her own, for clarity.