You’d think the main side effect of looking at celebrities all day would be that I stop eating food that can’t be sucked through a straw. But that hasn’t been the case (even though I really love bendy straws). Instead, it just means one of two things: Either I completely forget something about an hour after I write about it, or I can’t look at a dress without thinking about it as compared to other stuff. With Lea Michele, it’s the latter:
This might be great. But I look at it and see an amalgam of what Lea wore to the Grammys and the Golden Globes, both of which I liked better. It’s like craving an Antone’s Po Boy from the original shop in Houston, and going out and buying a bunch of ham and salami and provolone and getting a jar of their special chow-chow sent to you so that you can recreate the sandwich, and yet somehow it still doesn’t taste the same, so there’s nothing you can do short of paying $400 to fly to Texas for lunch. I’m sure it’s very telling that a lot of my analogies involve food, but what can I say? I respect the sandwich above almost all else. I am a Sandwichtarian.
Do you love this, loathe this, or feel like it’s close but yet so far? Would you correct the not-quite-uneven-enough-to-be-edgy bodice, reduce the ruffle, change the proportions? Change the color, since she already did navy so memorably? Have at it in the comments. Or share your favorite sandwich recipes. Whichever. Both.
