You can imagine my reaction when I saw this look of Cate’s in thumbnail. Please bear in mind that I am on painkillers right now:
Reader, I screamed. “CATE BLANCHETT, ARE WE GOING TO SEE YOUR BUTTCRACK?” I would have clutched my pearls if I were wearing any. Instead, I clawed at my pajama top with such existential dismay that a button popped off and flew across the bedroom, landing in a pile of laundry. Then I started wondering, “Wait. Am I hallucinating? I am on drugs right now. Can someone call Courtney Love for me and ask if this is right?” (No disrespect to Courtney Love; I truly believe that if you are friends with her, and you have questions about how certain drugs work, you could call her and she would totally tell you.) And Courtney Love would have yelled at me to get a grip, because we are never going to see Cate Blanchett’s buttcrack on the red carpet. It’s all an illusion.
She needs jewelry, but from the front, I think it’s great. 150% less terrifying, which is all you can really ask for.