Something about the way Emily Meade carries herself here suggests to me that she wants me to stare at her from a distance, squeal, “IT’S LEIGHTON MEESTER,” and then ask for her autograph.
And congrats to her — for a second, seeing as she’s attending the premiere of a Chace Crawford movie (in which she stars), I did in fact see the thumbnail and wonder, “Is Blair Waldorf wearing one of Blanche Devereaux’s best Courting A Mustachiod Gentleman With Dangerously High-Waisted Slacks blouses?”
But then Emily ruined the illusion:
@seoulcialite amen. So much. -H
Fugland
Here’s the thing:
When your movie is about the nuclear arms race — as is Lucy Walker’s, here — is it appropriate to show up dressed like you’re late for your midnight performance at Beach Blanket Bingo? I promise I’m not being snarky. I have never made what is by all accounts a very powerful film about the nuclear arms race — all of my nuclear arms race movies are glib and half-assed — so I don’t know HOW you dress to promote it. I feel like you’d probably be standing in front of your closet thinking, “am I supposed to look all Serious Bizness here? Or is that just DEPRESSING? Oh, screw it. I’m going to be kicky and retro. If we’re all going up in a mushroom cloud of doom, at least I will have taken my midriff out for a walk before that happens. CARPE DIEM!”
react: