Movie was actually pretty good, and Meryl Streep showed that she's still the best actress out there. As wonderful as Anne Hathaway, Stanley Tucci and Emily Blunt were and as wonderful as the storyline was, it still soured me on the fashion industry.
Hathaway, who already looks like she's a nice size for a girl, talks about how happy she is because she's down from a size 6 to a size 4. Seemed barely 10 years ago that a woman who was a size 6 was considered to be very, very hot. There was also Blunt's character, talking about how she starved herself in her diet and that whenever she felt like she'd faint, she allotted herself a cube of cheese.
Then there was Streep's Miranda Priestly character, who had one divorce (and soon two) to her credit that we know of, all because she's absolutely consumed with her career. Makes you wonder if she's really indeed happy.
This film reminds me of a lot of the needless flak Jennifer Love Hewitt got when she was seen in her bathing suit and perceived to be fat. Sheesh, what kind of society are we becoming when women with a little meat on their bones are thought of as fat? Sorry, but model-skinny is as far from appealing as Pluto is from the sun.
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