When Bad Style Happens to Great People

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While our Hugh showed up last week to the London premiere of his new movie The Wolverine, cutting a fine figure in a stunning blue suit and arriving in an Audi R8 V10 Spyder, his ladylove Deborra Lee Furness, again, did not get the memo.
While it’s universally accepted that Deb is certainly no fashionista – it’s when I saw THIS particular fashion atrocity, I just had to question: Why? Especially considering that hub was recently placed third in the top earning actors of 2012, AND is quite the sort, not to mention THE nicest guy in Hollywood. So why would you front up to the world premiere of his latest flick, wearing a black cardie tied in a knot over yet ANOTHER black shapeless top teamed with a stretchy polka-dotted black tube skirt which no doubt stopped short of hiding the trusted black platforms?  And with the tresses clipped back in a devil-may-care type of do that appeared more suitable for hanging out the laundry? Why? Is it so much to expect that one should look her best on such occasions? Why the repeated offense of shocking outfits to red carpet events (anywhere for that matter)?

I don’t know Deb personally, but she does appear to be the type of gal you’d have quite a hoot with while imbibing a few bottles of Champers on a rooftop bar. She looks funny, cool, and Hugh absolutely adores her. Last week I met Hugh’s personal trainer and he confirmed that yes, Hugh is indeed husband of the millennium, and Deb’s well-being is at the forefront of his every decision. So, I don’t doubt for a second that Deb is a very special lady. And it’s especially because she does appear to be a cracking lass, I want her to look better. I want to see glamorous Deb. I’m not asking for frou-fra and sequins. But I don’t want to see black platforms at an awards night, and more black ill-fitted, badly cut blah outfits with hair that appears to be secured in a butterfly clip. I want our Deb to seize the opportunity to don a beautiful rich coloured couture gown, so she looks like a million bucks (or even a thousand). She has the sort of resources at her fingertips that most of us could only dream of. I mean, it’s a crime that she doesn’t step up and get her glamazon on.



Or is it this type of low maintenance and carefree spirit that makes her the knockabout, loveable woman who has our Hugh so bewitched?

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