Obviously, the satin sandals are a horror — like dyed-to-match David’s Bridal confections that she saved from being tinted seafoam green.
But her problems start higher than her feet. I don’t even really have words. It’s a haphazard neck-turban. A demonic rose semi-drape. Actually, “PIXELS” anagrams to “SEX LIP,” which… doesn’t help me, particularly, except that maybe if you turn your head, the pink becomes a sideways satin Pac Man chowing down on her chest. Hopefully it will make it all the way to those shoes and digest them into kingdom come.