I have long ago accepted that I have a slightly binge personality. When I love something, I love it all the way. I love Harry Potter, so I have the books in 15 different languages. I love red wine, and have been know every so often to drink a bottle. I love my doggies, who are commensurately spoiled to a degree that I think sometimes scandalizes my family.
And lately, I love the TV show Grey's Anatomy.
So, even though I boycotted the Emmy's because Grey's was nominated for only one award, (evil fascist Emmy nominators) this morning I had to look and see what the stars of the show wore.
And Chandra Wilson's dress wasn't bad--maybe a little boring, but I did really love the color.
And Sandra Oh's dress wouldn't have been bad if she could have chosen just one necklace instead of forty.
But Ellen Pompeo . . . ouch.
I often catch myself picking at my flaws and thinking that if my hair were a little longer, or my nose a little different, or if I lost a few pounds, it would be so much easier to put myself together in the morning. Ellen's ensemble just goes to show that even drop-dead gorgeous women--the one's that you think never, ever could possibly do anything to themselves that would make them look less than fantastic--can do bad, bad things.