At first I classified this as a scrolldown, but then once I got there, I found myself heading back north with some questions as well.
The empire waist crowds the giant bow neckline a little, and makes the below-the-knee hem feel like an ETERNITY away. Maybe if the seam hit at her natural waist, it’d seem more graceful, or if — yes, you totally know what I’m about to say; I should just program it to F6 on my keyboard — she shortened it, maybe to the knee or even perhaps a bit more mini. But what threw me first, and still weighs me down, are the giant, chunky wooden platform heels (they are not wedges; couldn’t find a great angle on them), like she strapped her feet to some of those hand-carved blocks that people like to bang on while they dance around a campfire, or in toddler music class. And something about the ensemble feels marooned from an abandoned, glammed-up production of Annie, in which the orphans help run a vintage store. It’s not practical for that, either, though — you can’t walk all the way uptown to Daddy Warbucks’ mansion in those suckers without some serious gangrenous blisters forming. Pepper would never.
In sum, there is a hole in this bucket, dear Fug Nationals, dear Fug Nationals. How would you fix it?
