19 February 2007

"Women shouldn't wear pantsuits."

"That was a beautiful woman."

"Women shouldn't wear pantsuits. Men wear pants. The last thing this city needs is another Hillary Clinton."

This was Robert Hanssen (played frighteningly well by Chris Cooper) waxing on the dos and don'ts of women's fashion to his young assistant.

My spontaneous (and quite loud) "Amen," much to L's dismay, was not drowned out by the what-a-ridiculous-thing-to-say laughter that had erupted from all four corners of the shoebox sized theater.

Both couples in front of us and behind us went through great pains to show their disapproval with above-whisper "What an idiot" barbs and too-hard-to-be-accidental seat-kicks. I don't think my "that simpering wife either needs to get her own security clearance or stop asking so many god damn questions" comment a few minutes later endeared me to them any further.

By the end, L had slumped down so far in her seat, her sweet curls weren't even visible to the rows behind her.

"Nobody got that you were throwing up the 'Amen' in favor of skirts, not misogyny, or that you didn't like the wife because she was potentially jeopardizing national security," L explained to me afterwards. "At this theater, in Dupont Circle, you just looked like the Cheney-lover you are, and while I'm fine with that in confined settings - really I am - I don't want to risk an ugly confrontation when we're in such close proximity to concessions."

"Oh right, sorry," I said, clearly not at all sorry.

"Seriously, Johanna, I just got this coat dry cleaned over the weekend. Do you know, first of all, how difficult it is to find a dry cleaner I can trust with my vintage coat, not to mention how much it costs? Do you?"

"No, no, but I get it. I'm sorry."

(eye roll)

"Really, I get it."

Other than that pantsuit line, fashion was not a central topic of conversation, nor was it even noticeable, in the remaining 109 minutes. The costume designer perfectly captured DC's workforce in all its ill-fitting neutrals and sensible-shoe glory.

After resolving our differences over some rustic Cosi bread slices, L and I found common ground in our deep empathy for Laura Linney for her having to wear these ugly puppies - first in navy, then brown - throughout the entirety of the movie.

The normally chic Ms. Linney certainly took one for the team.

And it was good she did, because like the cheap oxford shirts Ryan Phillippe sported and the imitation Burberry print scarf Cooper wore, the movie was better for it.


Anonymous said...

if you're gonna get yourself killed in Washington, don't waste it on a bunch of liberals. Get waxed by the Chinese for skulking around their grounds in a tight black leather catsuit.

And heels.

Monte's Mistress said...

Going to a national security-themed movie with Johanna is a decision that one shouldn't take lightly. I think a blog is the perfect outlet for Johanna's outspoken views. At least on the internet, there are only *metaphorical* drinks thrown in your face.

Johanna said...

I'm gonna throw another "Amen" at that comment, "Monte's Mistress."

Or maybe I should just stop frequenting that dinky theater altogether. Their patrons are nothing but liberal trouble and it ain't go no stadium-seating, anyway.

bff in chicago said...

why do they even sell shoes like that anymore? it's only the women who don't know any better who buy those. if the option didn't exist, they'd be forced to go a more stylish route.

GOD, those are ugly.