Fugger: Christina Hendricks

When I saw this outfit, I was alone in my hotel room (Jessica was off gallivanting at a fashion show), and I still said out loud, “OH YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME.”

I’m pretty sure I read somewhere that she doesn’t have a stylist; if that’s true then she could get one fast, and if it’s not true, then she should get a NEW stylist. That hair is a stringy mess, and worse, the dress makes her look like a fifteen-pound bag of cantaloupes in a five-pound carry-all. And the thing is, as we’ve noted, she is not big. She’s just not. She is treated like she’s big, but that’s a myth. As is the idea that her lovely, abnormal-only-in-Hollywood physique is just so hard for people who make clothes for a living to dress. Kick-starting that discussion was good, because it’s absurd the way people act like it simply can’t be done, and yet now she’s self-perpetuating that same myth by being completely unable to pull it together on the red carpet. Why? Remember when Lucky did it for her? And in fact, other ladies do it all the time.  She is not a Kardashian and she is not Pamela Anderson and she is not married to Ice-T, so I’m mystified and confounded and baffled and befuddled by why she thought she just needed to wrap herself in something that hoisted the girls up into her chin. I’ve said it before and I’ll repeat it: Some designer, somewhere, should be SALIVATING at the chance to be her signature clothier, because whoever gets this right — for more than one event every six months — will be freaking celebrated. So snap to it, fashion types. Also, we’re serious about that stylist thing, Christina. Get on the horse. It wants to carry you.