I'm sure I made it perfectly clear I detested the film Miss Potter, even if I am a long avid fan of all things related to Peter Rabbit or Mrs. Tiggywinkle.
But read this group of graphs from an article in Vogue, written by Kennedy Fraser. It sort of speaks to how completely disjointed the whole piece is -- although it doesn't begin to shed light on how disjointed the series of photographs accompanying the story is. Photographs, too, should lend to a story arc -- last month, Anne Leibowitz's photo essay on Angelina Jolie matched perfectly with the story written about her fierce independence and life being a mother. This month, pictures of Zellweger in Hollywood glam dresses, modern takes on the turn of the century, and an Oscar de la Renta dress on a bicycle.... no storyline.
Sighs all around.
Here are the series of random thoughts -- that don't actually flow at all -- that bother me:
Renee Zellweger, whom I suspect of being a secret writer herself, is fascinated by Beatrix Potter's journal. The actress is wearing, for our interview, an old black leotard top, with a scoop-neck and long sleeves. (She is going to the gym later.) One sleeve has a hole in its wrist, with threads across it like a ladder.
"It interested me," she says thoughtfully, nervously popping a pink thumb through the hole and working it back and forth like a weaver's shuttle. "Why go to the trouble of writing in code when she's writing self-consciously, almost as if she wanted it to be read by other people? Why be so secretive, and yet writing as though it wasn't just you who would see it?"
I say it was natural that Beatrix should veil things still: She was learning to be a writer.
Ugh. Very flowery. Clever description. No clear line of thought. Grr.