Look. I love Pretty Little Liars. I love ABC Family for only putting it on hiatus for, like, eight weeks at a time — I wish Vampire Diaries would follow that schedule, except it might kill them. Lucy Hale is quite good on it, and her hair is spectacular. (It actually probably is, given the subject matter of the show, literally full of secrets.) So I am pained. This literally pains me. I don’t WANT to do it. I am compelled solely by the solemn vow I took back in 2004: not to spare the rod just because I happened to like the child. ONE CAN NOT ALLOW ONE’S ENJOYMENT OF A GLOSSY TEEN MYSTERY SHOW CLOUD ONE’S SARTORIAL JUDGMENT.
Sigh. Part of me enjoys this, and then the other part of me is concerned that it’s like what would happen if you bronzed the ballerina on top of your childhood jewelry box.
PS: Bring back the feather next season and I’ll consider it all bygones.
