This time I saw a post on The Cut — “Miranda Kerr the new face of Jil Sander”– and was like, oh, good to see that she’s getting work after Cashmere Mafia was canceled. It only ran for six weeks or something, so you can tell how stellar it was. Actually, it was just scripted so terribly that while watching it on my iPod at the gym I would regularly and repeatedly groan OUT LOUD at the inanity of the dialogue.
Aside: THAT SHOW. I’m pretty sure that Hollywood costumers have no idea how professional women are supposed to dress, if the boob-intensive combos of Lisa Cuddy and strange Dickensian suspenders of Thirteen on House are any indication…although this was Pat Field, so let’s just chalk it up to being a fantasy world. Unless there are women who regularly go for runs in Central Park wearing opera-length leather gloves and fur vests?
But it was Miranda Kerr, Victoria’s Secret model. Not the lovely Miranda Otto. Who cleans up real nice.
But I would not mind seeing a couture campaign with LOTR elements. Because I am just that weird.
And it would be awesome. Maybe Sean Bean* could make a guest appearance?
*Transcript of more-or-less real conversation.
Husband: I should probably start working out
Wife: Great idea.You need some inspiration.
Husband: Like what?
Wife: Um, like that picture of Kate Beckinsdale I have on the fridge door? It’s supposed to be aspirational. And also a deterrent to eating a gallon of ice cream in the middle of the night.
Husband: Ah, I see. Like who?
Wife: Let’s look on the internet. [finds picture of Boromir on Google images]
Husband: Oh, that dude?
Wife: [wordless gaping]
Wife: [possibly drooling on keyboard]
Husband: Okay, I’ll just be in the other room. Playing Morrowind.