Seriously, every time I looked at this photo, I gasped. And I looked at it A LOT:
Sweet fancy bananas, she looks bad. The dress is bad, the makeup is bad, the hair is bad, the styling is bad -- seriously, a choker? Are you Kelly Taylor in 1994? -- the whole thing is just WRETCHED. She looks like she's in costume for a period piece in which she plays a beautiful debutante (the daughter, obviously, of some kind of nefarious robber baron) who is slowly dying of some terrible mysterious wasting disease and she just finished filming the scene where she collapses at the ball, right into the arms of the hunky but dissolute rake she loves. But of course they can never be together because he's under the angsty impression that he will never be good enough for her. Obviously, her pure and steadfast love will make him into a better man, but only after she dies, which looks like it's about ten minutes away from happening. Now, I sort of want to see the movie. But no one needs to reenact it in real life, you know? Wasting diseases are seriously unflattering.
Sweet fancy bananas, she looks bad. The dress is bad, the makeup is bad, the hair is bad, the styling is bad -- seriously, a choker? Are you Kelly Taylor in 1994? -- the whole thing is just WRETCHED. She looks like she's in costume for a period piece in which she plays a beautiful debutante (the daughter, obviously, of some kind of nefarious robber baron) who is slowly dying of some terrible mysterious wasting disease and she just finished filming the scene where she collapses at the ball, right into the arms of the hunky but dissolute rake she loves. But of course they can never be together because he's under the angsty impression that he will never be good enough for her. Obviously, her pure and steadfast love will make him into a better man, but only after she dies, which looks like it's about ten minutes away from happening. Now, I sort of want to see the movie. But no one needs to reenact it in real life, you know? Wasting diseases are seriously unflattering.
