Fugice Evans

Leaving aside the leggings for a second, because if I don't then my brain cells start to burst in confusion and protest, I'm a little concerned about what Alice Evans has been up to lately:

Was she recently taken hostage at a New-Age Widow's Weeds convention? If so... I mean, bravo for escaping largely intact, but you don't HAVE to prove a point by leaving on the tape they used to bind your ankles. Indeed, were I Alice, I'd be at home making my hunky husband Ioan Gruffudd cut them off tenderly and then rub my feet before drawing me a bath and feeding me medicinal champagne and strawberries. I mean... seriously, go HOME, Alice.