The last time we saw Kristin Scott Thomas, I was praising what I thought was a cool and dignified Dior with a Champagne bottle bursting across it. The commenters were less kind: “Champagne sperm,” wrote one. “Hairy golden squid,” said another, and we also got “confusing flower guppy” and — possibly my favorite — “a bunch of shiitake mushrooms flying out of a comet in transit across the lower thigh region.” But the prevailing thought was also that Kristin Scott Thomas can elevate basically anything, even “[an] accident with pancake batter.”

How are we feeling about that right now? I can’t decide. The Fabulous Fund Fair is traditionally a very kitschy, over-the-top, lavish affair, so this is probably more on-point than it looks. I have to give it to Kristin for camping it up so thoroughly. Because, objectively, Kristin Scott Thomas is quite possibly the LAST person I thought we’d see dressed as Edina Monsoon, Failed Fortune Teller, who summers on cruises that leave from West Palm Beach and consumes┬ánothing but free shrimp cocktail, cigarettes, and Singapore Slings with enormous umbrellas. She will ash in your dinner or drink if she’s passing, and invariably, all her fortunes involve made-up medical conditions like “genital inversion,” “boob excitement,” and “spastic cerebrum.” I would like to hang out with that person, admittedly, but perhaps not for $1,500 a plate.

[Photo: Getty]