At first, I couldn’t decide if this look frightened or thrilled me.
Ultimately, I decided on the latter, in part because she no longer looks so frail that I’m afraid an errant elbow from somebody’s PR rep will snap her in half. But mostly, I decided that I cherish the hair. That is a seriously ballsy big coif — and not in that way where you suspect she had three people backbrushing it for an hour before using four cans of hairspray. No, it’s almost a bit regal, like she’s a secret Scarlett O’Hara fangirl.
That’s got to be it, right? She even has a curtain-tie around her neck — a gold-dipped tribute to Scarlett’s most famous fashion moment. If she didn’t have that, she’d look kind of boring, frankly. It’s the perfect loopy touch. And besides, who can blame her for wanting to emulate literature’s most marvelous Southern belle? I can practically hear her internal monologue now: “Great balls of fire — there’s that mealy-mouthed Kate Walsh, thinking she can swan around with her red hair and her wedding ring and her new spinoff. As God is my witness, that show’s not going to lick ours. Even if I have to lie, cheat, steal or kill the power on their studio. Where shall she go then? Whatever shall she do? Oh, if I wasn’t a lady, what I would say to that vixen! Sigh. This is getting me overexcited. I can’t think about it any more today. I’ll think about it tomorrow.”