I kept trying to put my finger on what I didn’t like about Leighton Meester’s outfit, and then somebody tweeted us something that summed it all up: that, essentially, she looks like the fanciest sister-wife in the commune.

And it’s TRUE. This is totally what it would look like if Blair Waldorf and Chuck Bass decided to become high-society Upper East Side polygamists, using the Empire Hotel as their compound. Blair would fancy herself Queen First Wife, and she’d thusly be allowed to have a slit in her skirt that inches higher than anyone else’s, and a specific measure more bling on her feet than the next wife down the chain, and the next, and so forth. And she would COUNT. Oh, she would count. If she suspected the second or third Mrs. Bass tried to thwart the rules by out-fabbing her on the jewel front, Blair would sit down and count every last stone on the shoe three times over — like she was in an Amazing Race challenge — just to be sure she still reigned supreme. They could call the ensuing Gossip Girl spinoff Big Bass, or Bass Love, or Chuck and Blair Plus Lair — or if you really want to get porny about it, The Holy Bonin’ Empire, but that’s only if it gets picked up by Cinemax.

Contrast this to what she wore to the Art of Elysium gala, always inconveniently timed to be right before the Globes, because they won’t think of the bloggers:

I guess this is for… when the Basspound has a swingers night with somebody else’s illicit polygamist penthouse?

You know, for something this sparkly and ostensibly sexy, it’s sort of shapeless and heavy and unflattering. It gives her hips about ten pounds that aren’t there, so by the time I get to the red fringe at the bottom, it’s not a fun surprise — it’s just too little, too late. Probably also a sentiment that gets uttered from time to time at the Basspound, but in a way nakeder context.