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November 14, 2005

Casafugna

Aw, Peter Pan is all grown up:


[Photo by Daily Celeb.]

Grown up, and dressing as the "Papa Don't Preach"-era Madonna. At first I was thrilled to see that she left her omnipresent leggings under the bed where they belong, but those trousers aren't much better. I like to think the woman on the right was actually closing her eyes in pain to spare herself the sight of... what? What is that thing? Is it a shirt and pants with a marathon-length rise, or a jumpsuit? I can't even tell. Which probably should have been Sienna's first clue that this hip-widening, breast-ruining monstrosity and its overly cropped pants was a horrible idea (the second clue being the fact that it's a hip-widening, breast-ruining monstrosity with overly cropped pants, and the third being the fact that her mother is sitting at home right now going, "Sienna never did meet an iron she knew how to use").

All of which is a shame, because tabloid scandals -- and the occasional alleged James Bond boffage -- really seem to agree with her skin.

I'm starting to wonder if she's just playing a big joke on mankind, and that she's always hell-bent on wearing something that's fugworthy just to see if some vapid starlet or other clones her next week. I love the idea of Sienna lounging in her bedroom reading Us Weekly -- taking a break from cutting up photos of Jude Law and texting him taunting messages like, "Yeah, he's 007 ... INCHES" -- and cackling gleefully at the first sight of Hilary or Manlie Duff, or Kate Bosworth, aping her last litmus test of Hollywood lunacy.

Or, maybe she just wears stupid things. Whichever.

Posted by Heather at 12:05 PM in Sienna Miller | Permalink

 

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