Winona’s last few appearances on the red carpet have been tragic. Or at least semi-tragic. So this warmed the cockles of my heart, which are usually kept at a very frosty sub-freezing temperature:

It’s really simple, yes, but it’s the best combination of soft and flattering that she’s sported in a long time. And now I want to go watch Heathers again. Although really, it does not take much to get me to want to watch Heathers – death by Drano, Shannen Doherty, “I love my dead gay son,” and Martha Dumptruck, and… well, it’s all so very, you know? It’s a BIGGER deal that this makes me want to watch Reality Bites, the movie that in my youth I thought was very funny, and in my current state of adult decrepitude makes me want to scream at people about wearing bras, getting a goddamn job, washing their hair (I’m looking at you, Ethan Hawke), and not being pretentious assheads (ditto). Like, when you start rooting for the Taye Diggs character in Rent, and Ben Stiller in Reality Bites, and you cheer for Janeane Garofalo in that movie when she tries to get Wino a job at The Gap, you know you’re inching outside the target demographic. Although, I like to think of it as wisdom. PAY THE RENT, PEOPLE. Pay for your Snickers. God.