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Fugger: Christina Ricci
Here is a shot of it.)
Christina looks so great from the neck up that I hate to be a persnickety cow here.
But when your dress looks like a combination of a Photoshop experiment and and the X Marks The Spot portion of a treasure map, it’s a good rule of thumb to take it off and run the other direction. Unless there really is gold coin buried in your chest. Although frankly, I’d run away in that case, too. To Tahiti.
Bold move, Ricci:
[Photo: Splash News]
Bold, and UNWISE. What IS this? Because it can not be what it appears to be: that you stuck your arms haphazardly through Captain Hook’s pirate hat, then shoved it down until it covered most of your nipples; then paired it with some lingerie sewn to a skirt made from the sheddings of your dog. IT CAN NOT ACTUALLY BE THAT. Right?
CHRISTINA: Oh my God.
MANDY: What, what?
CHRISTINA: You are GIANT.
MANDY: Maybe you’re just small.
CHRISTINA: Maybe, Gargantua, but you are TALL. You are a tall drink of water. Except you’re wearing black, so I guess that’d be unfiltered water.
MANDY: Your dress interests me. It’s very graceful and interesting, and yet it also looks like my bathtub after a shower, with all the hairs that fell out of my head lying tangled on the porcelain.
CHRISTINA: Poetic, Luke Skyscraper. And yours kind of looks like a cross between Angelina Jolie and Mary-Kate Olsen. With a dash of nightgown. I don’t know what to think.
MANDY: I think, somehow, we might BOTH be rocking it.
CHRISTINA: You might be right, Tallda Swinton.
MANDY: Okay, enough with the names, I get it. I’m tall.
CHRISTINA: Seriously. Your legs START practically at my boobs!
MANDY: Let’s just throw this to the poll and call it a night.