Fug or Fab: Ginnifer Goodwin

I had the strangest moment looking at this dress, which is when I thought to myself, “I hate that. I can totally see myself wearing it.” Like, in the same breath:

The more I look at it, the more I’ve started to like it despite the fact that I can’t stand it. It’s like the clothing version of a romantic comedy where a man and a woman meet and immediately loathe each other and you know they’re meant to fall madly in love in about ten minutes and this dress and I are about at minute four. I hope this means that all the other tropes of the romantic comedy are also fated to come to pass for me: I will immediately find an amazing, huge, spectacularly decorated apartment fully stocked with adorable designer clothes, which I will be able to afford despite the fact that I am now suddenly a woman who designs floral arrangements for dog weddings instead of blogging, and every time I go to the market my one paper bag will be artfully packed so that a plump baguette peeks deliciously out of the top, and when my dress here comes to declares its overwhelming, perfect love, it and I will embrace sobbing in the rain in the middle of a Manhattan street that — for some reason — has literally no traffic at all. It is going to be SO ROMANTIC. And also REALLY WEIRD.