
She wore this for her perfomance -- she was part of the Bee Gees medley, and when she walked out, I literally said, "oh thank god." I do not understand why I'm not wearing this jacket/cape situation RIGHT NOW. It's AMAZING. I would read 1000 novels about this woman.

As I noted in our piece for Cosmo, this is VERY 1960s Bridesmaid, but in the way where it's come all the way around to being fab again.

AND HERE SHE IS. I want to know everything about this woman and watch all of her romances and adventures. I feel like she lives in an amazing Malibu beach-front cottage, where she smokes long cigarettes (it's the 80s) and drives a Corvette and drinks mai tais and can't stop loving a rogue-ish hot shot photographer with a heart of gold but a wandering eye. Meanwhile, the sexy ex-skiier who's moved to Malibu to heal his torn Achilles tendon -- and his heart! -- knows that he could learn to love again with her...if she'd only stop looking at him as just a friend. WHY WASN'T THIS REAL?

The universe can make it up to me by letting me borrow all of this. THANK YOU.
