ALEXIS BLEDEL: Okay, Amber, come on, let’s go.
AMBER TAMBLYN: No! I’m not done getting my photo taken!
ALEXIS: Trust me. I’m trying to help. Let’s just go back to your place and have a bottle of wine.
AMBER: What is your beef? Are you embarrassed about your dress?
ALEXIS: MY dress? I mean, okay, so it’s a little unremarkable, but it’s not HURTING anyone. Unlike your pants.
AMBER: These pants are bitchin’.
ALEXIS: Those are winter harem pants. Do you hear me? HAREM PANTS. For WINTER.
AMBER: It’s a revolution!
ALEXIS: It’s ridiculous. If Jeannie dreamed of becoming a lawyer in, like, Milwaukee or something, she’d have ten pairs of those made. But you do not live in an oil lamp.
AMBER: Are they that bad?
ALEXIS: Honey, they give you Grandpa Crotch.
AMBER: … Okay, let’s get out of here.
ALEXIS: Finally.