
I think this is a new coat on Kate*, but whooooo caaaaaaares let's talk about that fanfic we're going to write where somehow Kate falls into a wormhole that bends space and time and also fact and fiction and wakes up in the Downton well, from which Mary (in a fit of very unusual kindness) rescues her and they become best friends, until Kate accidentally steals Matthew Goode's affections away from her. But then Mary realizes she's loved Tom all along and everyone is fine. Except, I guess, for William, trapped alone and Kate-less in a harsh world where fact and fiction and time and space can be bent at will. Hmm. Sorry, Wills. I guess you're going to have to try all the wardrobes in all your grandmother's houses to see if one of them has a false back, allowing you to traverse into this fictional netherworld to reclaim your love. Make sure you don't accidentally end up in Narnia. The queen there is a HANDFUL.
*It is, in fact. Thanks to What Kate Wore, I know it's from Jojo Maman Bebe, which is fun to say in an exaggerated French accent.

When Pretend George presents a gift for Actual George, does the universe truly begin to bend in upon itself? Additionally: that child actor is literally almost too cute for me to be able to stand it. His little blazer! He is also GREAT CASTING for Spawn of Dan Stevens. (His name is Oliver Barker; his twin Zak also plays George.)

"Hah hah hah hah, remember how you've been mired in an incredibly slow-moving plot about murder for like the last one hundred and seventy-five years, Anna? I certainly hope that's over now. And by 'hope,' yes, I do mean 'command.' Just a little message from You Know Who. Annnnnyway, let's talk Gutenberg Bibles! My grandmother-in-law can't find hers, either! I KNOW!"

"And this, m'lady, is the bell that you would ring if you were staying here, and then one of us would go upstairs and bring you breakfast while secretly worrying about whatever horrible tragedy was lurking below stairs. Honestly, I would probably be involved. I have terrible luck of a criminal nature and a limp that just comes and goes as it pleases, which makes everyone a wee bit nervous. Can I show you the boot room?"

OH GOD KATE GET OUT OF THE BOOT ROOM. NOTHING GOOD EVER HAPPENS IN THE BOOT ROOM.

"Come in to my sitting room, my dear," Mrs Hughes said. "This is where everyone tells me if they're being sexually blackmailed by a psychotic servant, or they suspect their husband has killed someone again. You know, just standard, everyday work conversations. Take a seat. AND TELL ME EVERYTHING."
PS: I enjoy that, out of shot (I ASSUME) there is a tote bag that reads MRS HUGHES! so cheerily.

Whatever Thomas is saying here, I like to think it's totally filthy and completely disrespectful. In a good way.
(The Telegraph has a good recap of the visit (their site has video that autoplays, FYI, so turn your speakers down) in which it is revealed that he cracked that Mrs Patmore gets Botox, so I feel that sauciness, at least, is a good bet.)

I assume everyone here is ribbing Mr Carson about the Too Hot For Downton special focusing on his honeymoon with Mrs Hughes. Oh my god, I just thought of something: I certainly hope I am not expected to start calling her MRS CARSON. This is going to be too confusing for me. Like Carson himself, I too hate change.

In which Kate tells Edith all her secrets for making ONCE AND FOR ALL a very good match indeed. FOR GOD SAKE EDITH, LISTEN TO THE EXPERT.

But this might be my favorite. HOW DELIGHTED WE ALL ARE! Daisy! Mrs Patmore! Kate herself!
What I really hope is that Kate has secretly been given a cameo as, like, the new Sarah Bunting: Inner Ear Infection, whom we only see leaving the kitchen holding a bag of books as Daisy yells, "thanks for teaching me all about quantum physics!"

These is TOTALLY a piano picture. For literally EVERYONE in this shot. And maybe also for me. Everyone is THRILLED and NO ONE is really looking at the camera! I can only assume that this is because Violet wasn't there to keep them in line.

Okay, this one's a bit more polished. I might still want the other one, myself.
