Last night, I wasn’t sure about Rose Byrne’s dress, but now I think I might like it. There’s something funky about the gold pieces, like she’s a very expensive present with artful ribbon wound around its contours, the kind somebody got paid by the hour to wrap:
However, I can’t get over the hair. It looks crunchy and fried, which is fine with French fries or chicken or the tresses of that girl in seventh grade who totally laughed at your hair once and then got her karmic due when she got a perm that turned hers into hash browns. But Rose Byrne is not that girl, and ergo, there is no Schadenfreude here, just a fervent wish that Cuisinart doesn’t use this in an ad giving you twelve exciting new reasons to buy their immersion blender.
