Fug or Fab: Jessica Chastain

Have I just been worn down by months of her weird fashion choices, or is this kind of good?

Don’t get me wrong, it could totally be like that thing where you’re looking at apartments and the first apartment you see, you are totally insanely picky about it and turn it down because you didn’t like the silverware drawer or some shit, then by the twentieth apartment, you’re just happy it has a front door. (This is basically also the story of my dating life. You start off wanting to date Chris Evans and then one day you wake up and realize you’ve downgraded expectations from “Chris Evans” to “Chris Farley, but alive. Mostly alive. Half-alive. A quarter alive. Can he walk? He’s a zombie. Zombie Chris Farley. I can work with that. Zombie Chris Farley could be fun. He has goals. He has an interesting peer group. I can make that work. Sure, set me up with Zombie Chris Farley. He wants me to meet at the edge of the graveyard? Okay. Sure, that’s fine. No, I don’t have a van. I guess I can get a van. No van is a dealbreaker for Zombie Chris Farley? He’s a ZOMBIE. I’m ALIVE. Okay. Okay, yes, you’re right, I’m not getting any younger. Okay, fine. Yes, I can get a van. No windows, yeah. YEAH I GET IT.”)

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