I saw this and said to myself, “Yep, another Hollywood person in a see-through maxi-dress; another collective prayer of thanks for the presence of undergarments.”
But… well, I bet you know what’s coming:
Jenna here is quietly putting together a campaign to have “Noted Kook” added to her name.
Separately, she’d also like to know when you last had an oil change, because she can offer you a GREAT deal.
When I thought this was pants and a top, I wasn’t overly mad at it.
But I believe it has been confirmed as a jumpsuit, and so now I have beefs with it — I think because a shirt CAN blouse at the waist, but a jumpsuit somehow shouldn’t, but that could ALSO be a total crock and I’m resting on my massive bias. It’s only fair that I acknowledge my prejudices so that we can all begin to heal. And the first step is…
It has been a banner week for jumpsuits. First, Greta Gerwig wore that awful Stella McCartney thing, then Margot Robbie was in a red abomination, and now Rosario Dawson has gotten into the game:
It’s pleated AND wrinkled AND overcomplicated AND boring AND strangely fitting AND unhemmed. WHY is she fighting The Pretty so hard? Is The Pretty that argumentative and unpleasant? Help me understand.
It’s a jumpsuit parade today, which is one of the saddest kinds of parades there is.
If you have seen Wolf of Wall Street, you know every inch of Margot Robbie’s figure; if you haven’t, you can still probably imagine the truth, which is that her body is basically perfect. So the sins of this jumpsuit are egregious and varied. It’s mangling her chest, dropping her crotch, swelling her groin, and eating her feet. It’s the sartorial equivalent of handing a lovely classic painting to Shia LaBeouf and asking him to write poetry all over it: nothing but trouble.
I’m not sure the wrap at the waist was ever going to be incredibly flattering.
But the jumpsuit portion of the evening isn’t helping matters. The fabric itself is pretty, like wintry confetti or something — I alternately see snowflakes, and Brachs peppermints — but I keep wishing it ended in a skirt, because this whole thing is making a balloon out of her lower half, and sadly not the kind we can deflate with a pinprick (and now that I know it’s Stella, I’m not surprised; it DID kind of remind me of a nicer version of K.Stew’s labia pants). I wish it were a skirt of some ilk. I wish I could liberate her shoes from this bad dream. And I wish her makeup game weren’t so problematic. I wish for so many things, all of which would require a Life TiVo to rewind live action and redo things; sadly no one has invented that yet.