Grey Pants is all, “…huh.” Blazer Dude is all, “NO.” And Grey Dress is all, “well,
what the hell? It’s Gwen Stefani. Facebook needs to know this.”
This is what Gwen wore to close L.A.M.B on Thursday night — the night Matt Damon ditched us, although I felt close to him once more after I watched The Informant on the plane home, and then caught up on 30 Rock this weekend, which I think might have featured the greatest performance of his career to date — and when she came down the runway, it actually looked like a dress, and I quite liked it. Now that I know it’s pants, I feel a bit more conflicted. On the other hand, there’s something about it that’s sari-inspired (right? Or wait, no — saris don’t have pants, do they? You know what I mean, right? Someone please help me remember what I mean in the comments) and that I do enjoy. God, I’m so confused — I clearly have not fully recovered from a Fashion Week in which one day brought us both Aubrey O’Day AND Salman Rushdie.
Sheesh. Every time I think we’re FINALLY DONE with the Met Ball, another picture pops up that I forgot we didn’t already cover.
Gwen’s facial expression is all, “Don’t speak. I know just what you’re saying.” And so I’ll deep-six the little story I concocted about a moth-eaten wedding gown, an old bathing suit, and cobwebs from poor under-the-bed storage; I’m pretty sure she wants me not to tell her, because it hurts.