Every dress tends to have its time and place.
And this one’s time is not the 2016 MTV Movie Awards, an evening which suggests all the enduring cultural significance of the Nickelodeon Kids’ Choice Awards but without the gallons of slime (and usually with considerably more thigh). I would have placed this instead, say, at Doc Holliday’s funeral, where buxom lass after buxom lass would come in and throw her teary self over the coffin and scream, “I LOVED YOU, you BASTARD.” Or perhaps at a deathbed poker game. Both of which, had they happened at the MTV Movie Awards, might have compelled me to watch them. Alas, all I have is this very discordant-seeming outfit and my imagination.