[Photos: Fame/Flynet, Getty]
Fugger: January Jones
You saw the looks at the panel; now, let’s go to the party. We’ve got cleavage and jumpsuits and impressive vertical leaps.
I would criticize this for the visible bra…
… but the thing is, the bra is the only part I like.
As weary as I am of EVERYTHING EVER showing up at Comic-Con, I can’t deny that I’m grateful for the summer content. People bring the kook to this sucker.
I don’t even know why I’m being nice about this. Maybe because I really miss Mad Men and I like her on Instagram? I don’t even know. This has issues. I KNOW IT HAS ISSUES:
But it’s also kind of Samantha Jones Goes To Some Awful Studio 54 Theme Party And Secretly Really Pulls It Off While Carrie Attempts A Tube Top And Strangles a Metaphor in a way that makes me feel nostalgic and sort of thirsty for a cosmo, even though I can’t drink them ever since That One Birthday Where I Had Three in Two Hours. (In my defense, the problem with the cosmo is that it’s served in such an easy-spill container! You slurp up enough cosmo so that you don’t slosh it on your shoes and then the next thing you know IT’S GONE and then shortly thereafter you might barf.) So, yes, maybe I’m mentally drunk and therefore more positively disposed to everything but I swear if the crotch on the pants weren’t totally insane we might be into this. Maybe? What do you think?
I like the pattern on this, which I am calling Electric Feather.
But the way it’s draped and cut… I’m calling it Frump & Fold. Don’t let it happen to you.
Have you ever seen that tremendous infomercial for Dump Cakes? It’s the one where the elderly lady takes four ingredients — including the piece de resistance, a can of Sprite — and chucks them all into a pan, without mixing, and then bakes and pronounces it a magical dessert (for a health-conscious option, she suggests DIET Sprite).
To me, this is the Dump Cakes of jumpsuits, like Prabal just threw the fabric together, declined to mix, and hoped it’d bake up a treat. I can’t decide if he overcooked or undercooked it, but the point is, I am NOT asking him for this recipe.
(I got the actual Dump Cakes cookbook for Christmas, as a joke, and let me tell you: LIES. Ninety-five percent of the recipes do involve measuring and mixing, which is the antithesis of everything for which that wonderfully bad infomercial stands. I OBJECT, DUMP CAKES. I WILL FIGHT YOUR WEB OF DECEIT.)