I don’t know which I covet more: the dress, her hair, or her shoes.
Apparently, the dude behind her is somewhat less impressed. OR, he’s her SECRET BODYGUARD, scanning the horizon line for threats to her well-being and is, in fact, ready to spring like a cat should anyone on the NYC streets decide in a moment of heat-prompted madness, to tackle her and jack her footwear. In which case: carry on, sir. Carry on.