The other day — or week, I can’t tell anymore — Rihanna wore this gown with a neverending train. It, like Celine Dion’s heart, goes on and on. I can’t imagine being able to move around in that thing without slinging it over my shoulder like a bodybag. And while I have no practical life experience with lugging corpses hither and yon, I’m going to creep out on this limb over here and suggest that it’s probably significantly less comfortable than carrying a purse.
Perhaps this explains why RiRi ended up going a tiny bit more minimal with the fabric at the Met Ball. Of course, with Rihanna, even “a tiny bit more minimal” is … well, maximal.
