The wearer: Roxy Horner, whom I believe to be a model in the UK (last seen dating a comedian named Jack Whitehall, who is known to anyone that watched Mother’s Day as The British Guy In Mother’s Day).
The garment: A cropped jacket over a matching blouse whose sleeves stretch from here to eternity.
The event: a dinner
The question: How? Why? Who gets an invitation to dinner and thinks, “I will wear crumb-catchers made of the finest cream lace!”
As you can see, they do appear to split at the wrist, allowing for the escape of her hands. But how effective is that REALLY for anything other than standing around and sipping Champs and popping a tiny passed app into your mouth? Those are built-in napkins. Veils for her hands. No matter how hard you try to flick them away, won’t they land on the table? Drag into your Béarnaise while you’re reaching for your water glass? Don’t those come out of the meal looking like a Before shot from an ad for Clorox that’s trying to convince you to bleach your grandmother’s old curtains back to life?
I understand, trust me, that I am an out-of-touch old crone; to feign otherwise would be disingenuous indeed. But in this case, I can’t tell if I’m just elderly, too far removed from society because of the pandemic to understand how nightly rituals are performed, or correct that this is bonkers. Help.