See, I didn’t get this look back in 1977 (not that I was around then), and I definitely don’t get it these days. Especially with the six-inch heeled ankle boots. With flowy pants. I think that might be the worst part of all of it. Like, what’s she trying to hide in them there ankle gaps, sixteen buttered croissants? A Christmas goose? Woody Allen‘s manhood?
What say you –
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She has the hands of Dumbledore. The dead Richard Harris ones.