On the one hand, Leighton Meester definitely looks pretty in her Pucci and Jimmy Choos — with that hair and makeup, somehow the entire look is a lot more relaxed and young and comfortable than half of what she wears (especially the boob cymbal).
On the other hand, this reminds me of a gift box my parents use every Christmas, which says in merry script on the front, “DOES NOT CONTAIN WHAT YOU HAD HINTED FOR.” Aside from the fact that I’m astonished my grammarian mother condoned that kind of behavior, I have always loved that one, and I suspect that’s what the mood is around CMA offices this morning as they sit around and drink and throw dartboards at this photo. Because, like it or hate it, there’s nothing terribly INTERESTING here, and what good is Leighton Meester to them if she isn’t going to get them a boatload of press for ratcheting up the crazy? She wears upholstered jumpsuits to the Met Ball and see-through skirts for MTV and all she can manage for the CMAs is to look like she borrowed one of Kelly Clarkson’s old stylists for the night, and is sporting a skirt that MIGHT have inspired some mullet jokes, if Billy Ray Cyrus hadn’t scared the party-in-the-back bejeesus right out of us? “FOR SHAME,” they are saying, pouring another shot of tequila. “Thank God Gwyneth fancies herself a singer now or else we’d be FIRED TODAY.”
