By now — and she only wore this a day ago — I’m sure every “desperate housewife” joke has already been made, plus several suggestions that perhaps Eva is planning her free skate to Mozart’s Requiem.
Because seriously, who makes this ON PURPOSE? Did she have to call someone and say, “Okay, I want leg-of-malnourished-mutton sleeves, satin so heavy it will distort the Earth’s gravitational pull, a giant black tongue unfurling over my pelvis, and panels of illusion netting yoked by several stitched-together velvet garters and a zipper so clumsy that the back looks like a $2 rain poncho from Duane Reade”?
Oh, and also, she would’ve had to add that it must fit over hot pants Why? Observe:
Wait, no, sorry, this isn’t her in hot pants — it’s just her hamming it up. Or being a piece of meat. Or filming a PSA about the dangers of a clogged aorta. Or… you know, I can’t think of anything else to say that wouldn’t get me an R rating.
Oops, and this is Eva actually looking rather cute while a bunch of men let their pubic flags fly.
THERE we go: hot pants. Apparently, as part of a skit where she plays a waitress at the biggest, baddest Sonic in all of Las Vegas, where they gleefully change the menu so that they serve things like Tater Tits and Footlong Cheese Boneys, and… you know, milkshakes.
Or maybe THIS is why she needed easy access to hotpants: So she and Katy Perry could imagine what it would be like to take Dancing With The Stars by storm, waiting for Bruno to flop onto his back and slip into a joy coma after their stirring all-female cha-cha to to “Welcome To The Jungle.” Put in THIS context, everything about that original outfit makes perfect sense.