In March, I pegged this outfit for Ciara, and LO AND BEHOLD it has come to pass. In truth, it wasn’t a difficult prediction; it’s not as if I was crawling out on a whippet-thin tree branch, the likes of which last snapped under the weight of an inexplicably placed baby cradle. This thing SCREAMS Ciara. It would be her photographic entry in The Big Dictionary of Celebrities. This is hideous, truly, but it’s also reassuring. In topsy-turvy times, when you do not know where to look, there will Ciara be: in an aggressively shouldered top, short skirt, and tailfeathers that look like a drunken craft project. Bless.