If CBS cancels The Good Wife, someone should bring Julianna Margulies — and her head, from this outfit — to Mad Men to show Don Draper a thing or two about real foxy women.
Maybe I would be okay with the rest of this outfit if she’d just hemmed her pants (although Manhattan is so very tiny; wherever would she find a tailor?). Or maybe my issue is that the suit needs younger, sassier hair with it. Maybe I want blood-red lips with it, and a matching manicure. Maybe I want to sit down the Revenge writers and make them watch The Good Wife to understand how corporate shenanigans can be engrossing, if they are executed properly and by characters with more depth than the lid of an Arrowhead bottle. Maybe I want better wrinkle cream for my forehead, which is apparently where I experience ALL of my feelings. Maybe I want this outfit to give me more of those feelings, and for whatever reason, it isn’t.