Y’all know how much we love Tami Taylor around these parts, so this pains me:
But this is so not a Globes dress. This is a luncheon dress. This is a daytime movie premiere for an animated kids film dress. This is a friend’s bridal shower, your agency cocktail mixer, maybe Church. Of course — warning, spoilers abound for anyone who hasn’t seen American Horror Story — it might maybe also be a “Wait a second, I just got finished on a show that had me being raped by a gimp, having sex with Dylan McDermott, eating brains, seeing ghosts, giving birth to one stillborn child and one devil, dying, and then having to fake like I’m happy to be spending eternity with my douchebag husband in Ghostville when I’d rather be finding some hot spirit ass somewhere else, and that Necessary Roughness lady got nominated for a Golden Globe and I didn’t? ARE YOU KIDDING ME WITH THAT HFPA!?!” dress. And I feel her pain. But I still think the best revenge is unspeakable hotness, not Brunch in Beverly Hills.