It’s a nice change to see Kirsten Dunst in something sleek:
Okay, her hips maybe look like a cummerbund doing the walk of shame, and there is some mystery bunching up there on her torso, but overall I find this a flattering improvement on a lot of the nightgowns she usually sports. I am not saying Kirsten should stop trying and turn herself into an honorary Kardashian by wearing lots of one-sleeved Herve Leger bandage dresses, but I think she’s someone who benefits from not always trying to make A Statement. It’s okay to use your inside voice sometimes, Kirsten.
By now, you are wondering why I haven’t mentioned her makeup. It’s because that part of my brain temporarily fainted. Let’s take a slightly closer look at it all:
It’s possible — and I mean this sincerely — that I am not abreast of the latest in face-painting trends, because I’m a mascara and lip gloss girl,
Windows 7 Activation, largely due to my inferior skill and interior lifestyle (by which I mean, I cherish the comfort of my own lair and prefer merely to imagine that I am wearing makeup). Are the kids just putting the vat of loose powder right up to their eyes and just blinking for ten seconds? She’s full Michael Stipe above the nose, and everywhere else, a consumptive tragic heroine of turn-of-last-century romantic literature. Or am I just crazy, and it’s not that bad? I mean, at least she didn’t pair it with a heavy lip. THAT would have been Old Barbie Head Ravaged By Your Brother, Ten Seconds Before He Gave It Kate Gosselin’s Old Haircut.