Freida Pinto must love this color, since this is the second time she’s worn it. And with good reason, as it glows on her. But what do we think of the gown itself? She tends to elevate much of what she wears, which is a huge compliment and a rare trick. Is this gown worthy of that? Let’s take a look.
Fug File: green
The Continuing Well Played Adventures of Will and Kate: Coming to America: This Post’s Title Is Like Something On Lifetime: Not Without My Prince.
They’ve got to be exhausted by now. At the very least, Kate’s hair dresser has to be sleeping in the bathtub at the Beverly Hills Hotel at the moment, cradling his blow dryer like a teddy bear and icing his carpal tunnel. Chin up, old chap! Your work has never been better.
I like to think that — much as in Bridget Jones’s Diary, where she shows up as the only tart at what she thought was a Tarts and Vicars party (I love you, English fancy dress customs) — Yasmin Le Bon here showed up at the Serpentine Party and said, “damn it, no one told me we weren’t all dressing like Rachel Zoe Circa Summer 2006 anymore! YOU’RE ALL DEAD TO ME!”
I mean, right?
I think this might be, gulp, kind of good. What has happened? Where are the ruffles, the sheer layers, the trousers that make her look like she’s kneeless and waddling? Are you listening to us, Fabiola? WHY ARE YOU LISTENING TO US? WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT? Does Courtney Love actually ever take baths? Probably not! Does Bai Ling ever put it away? Hell no! Does Mischa Barton ever buy good pants? IS THE POPE CATHOLIC? Don’t be a Peldon, Fab. Don’t ride a wave of sanity back whence you came. Because in these trying times, we need to weep with joyous confusion at your clothes. Fly the fug flag, lady. FLY IT LIKE THE WIND.