Here’s the thing: We all love The Golden Girls. We just do. And if you haven’t seen it, trust me, you do. Even if you don’t, you do.
But that love has its place, and that place is usually: your couch; a lanai; a conversation with a friend in which said friend needs you to make a Zbornak face at her; if you are in Sicily; if you are in St. Olaf or attending St. Olaf College or happen to BE St. Olaf; if you are dating a man with a particularly dated mustache; etc. There are lots of places, basically, but the red carpet is not one of them. Not when you are young and you are foxy. The basic WORK on this is stunning; I just wish we could, say, fit the shirt and turn it into a gown, maybe with a belt/midriff accent that’s a slice of color. OR fit it, make it a more flowing than fitted skirt, and have it be one of those slice-of-midriff outfits. But those pants are unforgivable on a person under 55, right? And even then, they probably don’t deserve much mercy.