The other night I told someone how, years ago, I was convinced I hated this show. I yelled at the TV, talked sh*t about it to anyone who would listen. In fact, my roommate would leave the room while I got all worked up about it—which meant I was sitting there watching it alone. Which is how I realized, one day,
like the end of a romcom, that I didn’t hate the show—I kind of loved it.
I had the same reaction to Naomie Harris’ dress last night. When I first saw it, I was almost mad. So simple? So boring and under-designed, and only a small chest-plate cut out to look at? Sniff. Don’t try to talk to me about your inverted-match shoes, I expected more. More drama, more fun. Something.
Then I looked closer, and discovered that of course, the white dress is actually covered in tiny white sequins. The strapless bodice fits impeccably—it doesn’t ride too low the way they usually do. And, the ultimate, the thing that brought it over the top for me: that flat, geometric train. Not sloppy, not sweeping and round and dramatic, but crisp, clean, nothing to hide. Apparently I actually loved it. I would choose this dress to wear, if I could wear things like Naomie Harris, which I absolutely cannot.
In fact, she may be becoming my style icon. I’m less enamored with her Vanity Fair dress—nothing wrong with it, it’s just not as special—but I am saving ALL my love for her dress from the Independent Spirit Awards:
Come on. Tell me you’ve seen that before. Of course you haven’t. Then I realized that my newly adopted formal awards show pajama lounge suit shares more than a little DNA with the lounge suit she wore to the SAGs, and I’ve obviously been overlooking this kindred spirit for too long.
I hope she’s back in an awards season sometime soon. Not least because I want her to be in a situation where, when people discover there’s been a horrible mistake and they didn’t win, they don’t just MAKE A SPEECH ANYWAY.
Who does that?