This is the (early) Thanksgiving weekend content I needed, truly. Temperatures are low, both rain and bloating prospects are high, and all I want to do is swaddle myself in fleece and watch curling (it helps that we have to conserve gasoline right now in Vancouver because the flooding hurt our supply)(oh no you mean I can’t go anywhere or do anything what how will I get through oh dear pass the Doritos).

I give Hailee credit for adding a shirt and some white heeled boots and a slick updo to this, to offset this thing’s inherent shlump, but I mean… it comes across as if Marc Jacobs designed separates for the Slanket people, as if we needed to diversify that concept any further. The leap past “bathrobe” was far enough, no? And yet most of this collection from June did just that, which Vogue of course complimented as “a raising of the fashion bar” (what?!?) — and yet we were barreling toward a Met Gala rooted in American fashion at which nobody, not one soul, wore Marc Jacobs, suggesting that perhaps Anna herself thought this particular fashion bar was still half-buried in a crevasse somewhere in Manhattan.

[Photo: Gotham/GC Images/Getty]