I mean. I would say that someone misread the dress code memo, but I don’t think that is accurate. Everyone knows what the dress code memo is for a Wednesday night panel discussion about a long-running family sitcom, and it’s never Dress Like a Kardashian unless said panel discussion is full of actual Kardashians. She just likes to dress like this, and honestly, I’m not even clutching my pearls. This photo is a gift. It’s like a shot from your family reunion that your cousin showed up to late, and then confessed to you that she didn’t have time to change when she got home from partying the night before. “Do you think anyone can tell?” she’ll ask, over the potato salad. “No,” you’ll lie, because she’s actually really nice, even if her Facebook posts are only ever misspelled screeds against her office manager and pictures of birds she thinks are cute. Your baby niece will love this dress, and your aunt will spend the entire time white-lipped with rage. Your grandfather will be mildly confused, and your Dad will just pretend none of it is happening. Then everyone will get into their respective family vehicles and start talking about this dress the whole way home.