As the obscure Dawson's Creek reference above indicates to people who read Television Without Pity, this post is about Michelle Williams, whose personal style -- specifically, her hair -- has run the gamut of pleasing me to utterly confounding me to repelling me and ruining her face.
She's got a strange face, this one: Everything on it is overly round, from her chin to her nose-tip and nostrils to her cheeks, a sort of explosion of cherubic elements that can make her either very pretty, or very... balloon-esque. It's the kind of problem that demands meticulous attention so that everything added to her appearance is flattering to the shape of the things she possesses naturally.
Apparently, though, Michelle Williams has decided that the better way to live is: 1) Starring in a gay cowboy movie with Heath Ledger, and subsequently boffing him throughout shooting, which may have contributed to... 2) fugging herself up. [Heath is so uncontrollably fugly lately that I fear she caught it from him.]
Hark! A schoolmarm!
I expect her to be standing in a one-room school, spanking Anne Shirley's outstretched palm with a ruler, then making her stand in the corner to think about how wrong it was to beat Gilbert Blythe over the head with her slate because he called her Carrots. The brown hair doesn't offend me on its own, but when it matches the clothes she's wearing and the clothes themselves are incredibly drab, well... I just wish someone would reintroduce her to things like "blue" and "red." Colors are not the enemy, Michelle. The Beek was the enemy. But he's gone now. You're safe.
What worries me, too, is that on closer inspection she looks quite haggard:
She looks like she's at her own funeral. Does she know that she only fake died -- that she HERSELF didn't get The Cancer and perish in a hospital bed while the whole Creek mourned? Put down the red wine, Michelle, and go drink some vitamin water.