Ginnifer Fugwin

Ginnifer Goodwin has presented me with a tiny conundrum here, in that I am pretty sure I’m not wild about what she’s wearing as a whole, but certain aspects of it, I like.

The bodice is kind of cool — it evokes the good parts of Xanadu, like when they’re at the Franchise Glitz Dealer engaging in a dangerously colorful music montage while Gene Kelly tries on ritzy stuff to wear to the funeral of his dignity, or when Sonny Malone and his attention-whore nipple (yes, only one of them seems to crave the spotlight) roller-skates right through the Muse Mural and lands in their strange netherworld full of neon, or the final number in which Olivia Newton John makes three costume changes without leaving the stage and then gets sucked up into the sky by a neon light and nobody seems at all fazed by this turn of events.

But generally, as a woman with hips, it’s anathema to me to wear something that makes them significantly bigger. Especially if I am in the mood to slouch a little and shove my pelvis away from the rest of me, which Ginnifer is doing, as if she’s mad at it and wants to get it away from her immediately. It only enhances the widening that the dress is already doing. Don’t get me wrong — I’m not anti-hip. Curves are important. I just sort of feel like, a girl should rock what she’s got the best way she can, without any weird fabric unnaturally and unflatteringly embiggening things (thank you, Jebediah Springfield, for the verb “embiggen”).

So that puts me on the “fug” side of the eternal Fab or Fug debate. Unless she’s using those fabric folds to sneak in a few hip flasks, in which case, this dress moves from ill-conceived to ingenious.