(a) If you haven’t seen The Phantom Thread, the movie from which I best know Vicky Krieps, you SHOULD. As I said to Heather after I watched it on the plane on the way to London to cover Harry and Meghan’s wedding — truly, a lifetime ago — “I wish someone had told me this had so much poisoning in it.”
(b) It makes me chuckle that the terror M. Night Shyamalan has visited upon us is RAPIDLY AGING. Yes, thank you, I DID age ten years in 30 minutes during the pandemic! But it WOULD have been terrible had this happened on a beach vacay, as seem to occur in said film. (Please note: my only understanding of Old, the film promoted here, is from ads that air during the baseball.)
(c) Listen, no shade, but I feel like if you’re going to commit to a spangled capri-pant strapless jumpsuit — and, honestly, PLEASE DO — you also need to commit to carefully styling the shit out of the rest of your corporeal form. You can’t really plonk on a spangled capri-pant strapless jumpsuit and then just pull your hair into a ponytail and shove your feet into loafers and run out the door? I mean, literally you can. But some old crone is going to be like, “eeeeeehhhhhhhh I don’t GET it” and now, here we are.
