I know Batman is a caped crusader with a secret identity, and that the
film probes the concept of dual natures pretty overtly, but I don't
think Maggie Gyllenhaal needed to underscore that by attending the Barcelona premiere in costume as a split personality.
This is what happens when a dressmaker can't make up his or her mind about what to do, flips a coin, and then loses it in the couch cushions: You get one gown with what might be a very lovely fabric, and a bizarre overlay whose own busy pattern fights the original design. It looks like her dress is wearing a coat. This is either a madcap stroke of financial genius, sure to make us all go broke when we realize we can't possibly leave the house in polite society until our shirt is wearing its own shrug, or completely freaking insane.
I really wanted to like this, too, after The Great Baggy Jumpsuit Catastrophe of 2008. But it also further demonstrates Maggie's brazen, ruthless disinterest in the dangers of gravity. Behold it from a different angle:
This is what happens when a dressmaker can't make up his or her mind about what to do, flips a coin, and then loses it in the couch cushions: You get one gown with what might be a very lovely fabric, and a bizarre overlay whose own busy pattern fights the original design. It looks like her dress is wearing a coat. This is either a madcap stroke of financial genius, sure to make us all go broke when we realize we can't possibly leave the house in polite society until our shirt is wearing its own shrug, or completely freaking insane.
I really wanted to like this, too, after The Great Baggy Jumpsuit Catastrophe of 2008. But it also further demonstrates Maggie's brazen, ruthless disinterest in the dangers of gravity. Behold it from a different angle:
[Photo: WENN]
Between this and the thing she wore on The Daily Show the other night, I am more confident than ever in our decision to nominate Maggie for The Sag Award in our book. And listen, let me be clear, I am not judging what boobs do of their own God-given volition. We've all been there. What I can't figure out is why she wouldn't give her goods a boost. Every girl in the world mocks the pencil test until the day she fails it, prompting her to binge on Doritos and investigate whether a boob lift is prohibitively expensive. But you know what helps? UNDERWIRE. It makes cleavage smile. So why let nature take its course without even TRYING one of the many helpful detours? Hell, I'm about two seconds away from putting on a second bra just to balance out the universe a bit. For God's sake, FEAR GRAVITY, girl, because it does not fear you.
Aw, see, now she's gone and worked me up into an all-caps frenzy on an otherwise fine Friday morning. I should be sneaking schnapps into my morning cocoa while Intern George watches The View, not working a callous onto my pinky finger from pounding my Shift key. Sigh. Clearly I need to self-medicate with a screening of Ocean's Eleven.
