pretty in pink (frills)

Last night, Frida and I went to see Marie Antoinette. None of the reviews I'd read had been particularly favourable, but I have to say I really liked it. As did Frida. It was an explosion of colours and oh so wonderfully decadent. Admittedly, all the dialogue M.A. aka Kirsten Dunst had would fit on a (small) Post-it note, but her outrageous hairdos, costumes and shoes more than made up for the lack in meaningful conversation. Thankfully, the opulence wasn't spoilt by any nasty chopping-off-heads-scenes or the like.

Kirsten Dunst is one of those cute actresses women love. I do anyway. I've never interviewed men on her fanciability, but I have a hunch it might be a case of acute KateWinsletitis. To the puzzlement of the male species, most women seem to adore Kate Winslet (or Kate Kate Winselt as I like to call her since she made her debut as a singer) because she made bingo wings acceptable on the big screen. Hallelujah! We bingo-sisters just wanted to hug her. Other women's darlings: Drew Barrymore, who radiates "I could be your best friend in real life, you know" who and like Scarlett Johansson is one of the very few Hollywood actresses who seem to eat (gasp!) actual f.o.o.d. German actress Alexandra Maria Lara, who does not fit into the cute category, but is in a league of her own. Perhaps because she's supernaturally beautiful and completely natural at the same time, we don't even begin to question and berate this divine injustice but marvel at her God-given good looks.

In male actors, I seem to have rather non-mainstream taste. I mean, I could be stranded on a lonely island with Brad Pitt, George Clooney et al. and humanity would die out. Yeah, I know, they could probably restrain themselves just as easily as I could, but that's beside the point! I like actors who either have that kind of psycho look like Jonathan Rhys Meyers or who are pretty ordinary, like Andrew Lincoln, the guy who played the lovesick best man in Love Actually, which, by the way is one of my favourite films ever.