I'm not your mate, mate.

I am not a Nicole Kidman fan. I don't think she is interesting as an actress or as a fashion plate. But even fans of hers have to wonder what exactly she and the editorial team at Vanity Fair were trying to achieve with this cover, although we get a hint from the title of the article, "The Lady is Yar." (I am so smart I know what yar means without having to look it up. It means we are going to be subjected to a photo portfolio of fisherman's sweaters and hearty nautical attire, but unfortunately no piratical eye patches.) Ok, I lied. I have no idea what they're doing here. My only guess is they want to push pea coats on us and they forgot to ask Tim Gunn's advice about how to go about doing that. I am not philosophically opposed to them, pea coats, I mean. I have owned quite a few in my time. I just think she looks like she's begging to get in the jacuzzi in the back of a Van Halen limousine circa 1986. Subtract the brassiere from the cover shot, and she's wearing exactly what my great-uncle Dick (LAPD, ret.) would wear to clean the leaves out of his pool before we kids jumped in on a hot summer day that same year. Wouldn't you feel ridiculous wearing that getup in combination with such a pose? Aren't you proud of me that I have completely restrained myself thus far from making any reference to Gilligan or The Skipper?