I have long thought that if I were to be kidnapped by a weird, fashion-focused terrorist (so, Cojo) and put through a series of questions designed to prove my red carpet knowledge as the only route to freedom, the one that would save me would be, “OKAY MAGGOT: IT’S THE EMMYS. EVA LONGORIA PARKER HAS JUST ARRIVED. WHAT IS SHE WEARING!?!?!!”
And I would sob, “I don’t know the color, but it’s strapless! Strapless! Strapless with a fishtail hem!!!!” And Cojo would take another long drag from his cigarette and spit on the ground and bark, “Dammit, she’s right. LET THE PRISONER GO.”
