This is how we know we’re ready to put the Met Ball to bed.
H: Did we forget to do Amy Adams?
J: I could swear I read a post we wrote about her. But I didn’t write it.
H: I didn’t write it.
J: I must have DREAMED IT.
That might also be because this feels a LOT like a return to the Amy Adams of Yore, where we used to get that vague sensation that we’d seen her dress on her before even if we hadn’t. Her head looks very pretty, the color is nice, the dress is adept. It manages to toe the line of being relatively on-theme and yet also extremely safe. But, in what is actually a compliment to her, she’s gotten me trained to sit up and take notice and be excited; this made me a little slouchy and enervated instead. So, you know — it’s fine. But it’s not DAMN GIRL THAT IS FIIIINE. Or maybe I’m just tainted because I just put together the Best-Dressed poll options and some of those are so elaborately dreamy that I didn’t want to wake up, and this felt like my alarm going off.