It’s been a slow week, and as we cruise into the end of June, the Fourth of July, the dark depths of midsummer… pickings are going to get slim. And I think Jessica Chastain sympathizes a little. (Just a little.)
“Here,” she seems to be saying. “Here. Take it. I am out of the house, I am clean, I am in front of a camera. You can talk about my lipstick. You can talk about whether my shoes are too hoof-y or boring. You can speculate on whether I am secretly braceleted. You can even talk about whether this is a dress, or a shirt and skirt, and further, whether the top might actually be navy or Heather’s eyes are just deranged and desperate. I have done my part. I’m sorry it’s not crazier, but just be glad I’m here at all. Bloggers can’t be choosers. Now if you’ll excuse me, this is a Vogue/Wimbledon event, and I need to go ask Anna about how Roger Federer smells.”
