I’ve been thinking about this a lot, you guys, and I am going to have to give it a no:

Up close this may have been a shimmering marvel, but from where I sit — which, admittedly, is in my bed, in my pajamas, while that horrible Jennifer Love Hewitt Hallmark Hall of Fame movie that CBS aired is playing on my DVR, and yes, the fromage will get seriously fugged later this week — it looks like a tweed dressing gown. What kills the look for me, though, is the makeup. It totally wonkifies her beautiful big eyes. Maybe I should’ve been open-minded about it from the neck down, but it just makes me want to tell her to hustle back into the bathroom and wash all that goop off her face and then hang up her robe and try again. UNLESS she has a perky red-haired orphan living in her mansion and she wants to take her to the movies, so she cues up a song-and-dance number as she flits around her dressing area. In which case I will allow it, but ONLY if the orphan is played by Paul Giamatti. Why, you ask? Well, because wouldn’t you kind of have to see that? Yeah, I thought so.