Well Played, Emma Watson

Emma Charlotte Duerre Watson, YOU GET DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW.

[Photo: Splash News]

How DARE you go traipsing around Paris being photographed in adorable coats and cute jackets and pants that make me want to run right out and shop for winter clothes. Don’t you realize that it’s approximately eleventy degrees Fahrenheit in my L.A. neighborhood? To the point where the air-conditioning in my car only cools off whatever parts of me it’s hitting directly, because the outside heat is so oppressive that the rest of the vehicle stays hot? Why are you hurting me this way?

I mean, seriously, that jacket looks good on you:

Pretty! So adult! Great color! And if I wore that out during the day in my ‘hood, it would be sopping wet in ten minutes, so my potent yen to scamper out and stock up on autumnal outfits is POINTLESS right now. Yes, I know the malls are nice and cool inside, so the shopping part will be pleasant, but then I can’t WEAR
any of my newly acquired bounty, and what then? Do I just pull up a
chair in front of the closet and stroke them, murmuring sweet nothings
into their sleeves? Turn the thermostat down to 55 degrees and then
merrily cook dinner in my new jacket? That would be INSANE, Emma. You
are turning me into a crazy person. I cannot believe you put yourself
and your own climate zone first here. WHAT ABOUT ME? YOU ARE MAKING ME
ALL-CAPSY.