It’s not so much that I don’t like this — the dress is fine, although let’s be frank, the nylons and the shoes are fired; no, it’s that the photo cracks me up.
The expression on her face says to me, “God, WHY did I have to cleave to this NICE-GIRL persona? Why do I have to be all CHEERFUL now all the time? What was I thinking? Just ONCE I want to put on a raging case of bitchface and wear a dress made of knives and run over someone’s FOOT with a MOTORCYCLE. Instead it’s all polka-dots and party dresses and YAY WHERE’S MY UKULELE and I swear to GOD when New Girl is over I am going to turn into Angelina Jolie.”