You may not care about Dianna Agron from Glee, nor Greta Gerwig from stuff I haven’t seen but which people keep saying she’s good in so whatever; nor Lena Dunham from Girls. But you DO care about Vogue’s Hamish Bowles and his exuberant jacket, so join me in ogling these lovely-colored dresses — which are, in order, good, meh, and blah — and then let out a whoop when we get to him. The only thing that would make it better is if he’d retained the jaunty mustache that made him look like an olde-timey flim-flam artist and/or a man who rides one of those bikes with one ginormous front wheel and a teeny one in the back. The best. I mourn it.