Marion Cotillard

Ahhh; another Marion outing, another Dior shift:


I actually like this dress. A bit less than extraordinary, but it's elaborate enough to hold my interest. It must be the little rosepads on the shoulders. If I were standing near her, I'd probably lean in and smell them, which she'd then respond to by recoiling away from me and calling the security guard and I'd then be dragged away, smiling lazily that I was able to stop and smell the roses. And those shoes WILL be mine. I believe they are just too COVET-worthy for their own good. But something tells me I should be having a icky feeling about her hair. I mean...it's just like, a hunch, y'know? We can't really judge it from so far away; it seems to be in order, but I think we should investigate. Let us examine the close-up:

Ah, yes. Marion is suffering from bad-greasy-hair syndrome. Not to worry though, I’m sure it can be easily fixed. Marion, I love you, so please – use some shampoo before going out. Yes, I know you have some. Maybe Johnny rubbed off on you and you thought ‘Hmm. If he can pull it off, so can I!” No. I’m sorry honey, that’s not case. Johnny is Johnny. People will love him if he jumped into a vat of slime, put on a potato sack, jelly sandal crocs, and got a blue Mohawk. So let’s use that wonderful invention shampoo, oui?