Lauren. I wanted to like this. I did. You are so pretty.
I even think the green works with your coloring. But honey, that slice of Key Lime Pie has gone rancid in your fridge: If you are NOT wearing a strapless bra that’s inching its nasty way down your torso so that the underwire can make sweet love to your rib cage, well, then something is doing a great imitation of that lady-tragedy. Not to mention that whatever rigging system you did come up with has failed your right boob more than your left. I am pleased there was an attempt at SOMETHING, but this is exactly the type of catastrophe many of us try to work out during a dry run. Or, aptly and in your theater parlance, a dress rehearsal. This is why I never cut the tags off anything until I am absolutely about to wear it out of the house.
Plus, can we talk about the bow? It looks like the bedraggled-but-optimistic Itsy Bitsy Spider climbing up the water spout after several torrential downpours had knocked it to the floor. And look what it’s doing to your silhouette:
That’s just WEIRD. From the side you look like curtains in the Doublemint Twins’ bedroom.
Maybe that explains whatever was going on in this photograph:
Clearly a game of telephone turned “Lauren Graham’s gown looks like curtains in the Doublemint Twins’ bedroom” into “Lauren Graham’s groin is the cervix of the Doublemint Twins. BED THEM!” and ol’ Bret hightailed it over to talk dirty to her as fast as his Rock Of Love Boots could carry him.