A Story About My Purse

This morning I learned that the woman who designed my purse decided she no longer wanted to be alive.

I didn’t know Kate Spade in any capacity, save for the brand she built around herself. A quirky, preppy empire that speaks forcefully to my inner Charlotte, with its world full of bows and clean lines and tiny, golden charms.

“Get yourself a statement purse. It’s such a reliable conversation piece.”

This advice was given to my class during a workshop with two kickass Hollywood women, while I was completing my MFA in TV & Screenwriting through Stephens College. One of these women was in the process of selling a script to Disney, and the other was on the verge of being nominated for an Oscar. If anyone was going to help me rationalize my purchase of a fabulous purse, it was these two. I clearly had to listen to them and their sage, successful women wisdom.

Within the week, I’d purchased one of my three bucket list bags: a purse from Kate Spade. As a writer myself, I obviously couldn’t afford it at full price. I was not only shopping the sale section of KateSpade.com, I was accessing it via their Sale On Sale link sent exclusively to email subscribers. And yes, I’m plugging an email subscription to Kate Spade for anyone reading this who also covets the line but can only justify it at 70% off things that are already on sale.

My bag is indeed fabulous. It has two oyster-colored panels accented with bright yellow sides. The trim is navy because navy is the perfect collegiate compliment to yellow and oyster. My bag has carried my laptop to coffee shops and meetings, wipes for my daughter’s bottom, tiny toys to keep her entertained, snacks, hand sanitizer, mints, a small emergency makeup kit, my favorite sunglasses, a Christmas gift for a new love, and luggage claim tickets I always save until I’m positive my suitcase wasn’t lost en route to my destination.

After two years of tearing open my soul and typing more words than I could ever count, I earned my MFA. During our twice-yearly residencies, we stayed at the Beverly Garland Hotel, which is even more adorable than it looks. At the end of our last session, I browsed The Store with my newest lifelong friend, carefully selecting a memento to honor our time spent in that space, our little conclave away from home, witness to the words and adventures of 20 ambitious people navigating unchartered territory… I chose a pin. It’s a small, blue pin that embodies the spirit of the work our cohort would set out to create. I took my badge of accomplishment and moxie, and I pinned it to my purse.

Every day, I carry this purse with me. It has indeed sparked conversations and lent itself to forging new relationships, making connections that are so essential to a life of creative work.

Fashion is a mode of personal expression, an escape into other identities, a form of celebration and exploration. It’s creativity we can wear, and art to adorn our bodies. I will never get to tell Kate Spade what my purse means to me. Sure, in many ways, it’s “just a purse.” But it’s also so much more than that. I cannot begin to quantify all of the journeys it has carried me through. So I write this post as a posthumous thank you.

Thank you, Kate. I love my purse.

Writer, Actor, Shameless Hussy

An Open Letter to Mayim Bialik

Dear Ms. Bialik,

With a meager 17 IMBD credits to my name, I am no one and you’ve never heard of me. My voice carries less weight and my platform is not as high, but I wanted to reach out, for what it’s worth.

Because I’ve heard of you. With starry eyes and a hopeful heart, I watched you on Blossom, and it made me feel like maybe I, too, could realize my dream of acting in movies and on TV. You showed me that it was possible for a “less than perfect” looking girl to be successful, recognized, and valued. It meant a lot to a chubby kid with crooked teeth and asymmetrical features; so much so that I owned an embarrassing number of floppy hats decorated with giant flowers.

Which is why it’s so painful to have to tell you this: you are part of the problem. It isn’t that your choices are wrong, but rather your inability to see the choices of other women as valid and equally deserving of respect. Honestly, it doesn’t really matter what you meant by your op-ed in the Times. What matters is that you didn’t stop to think about what women like me would hear. And yes, I know “what kind of woman” I am.

I’m the kind of woman who is reprimanded for skirts that are too short in the workplace, as if that were more important than doing my job.

I’m the kind of woman who has been branded everything from Prude when I won’t give it up to Slut when I do, Difficult when I voice my opinions, and a Bad Influence when I encourage other women to openly embrace the full, beautiful complexity of their sexual selves, in any way they choose.

I’m the kind of woman who hears “no one wants to read that” about my creative work, because I write about women who love sex, unabashedly and without reprisal or retribution. And as you have so plainly illustrated, lots and lots of people are threatened by the power of an overtly sexual woman.

You may be wondering, What can this sex-obsessed harlot possibly be writing that in any way contributes to a meaningful life? Well, I am so glad you asked. I write about women who pursue passion with others and come to find it in themselves. I write about young women discovering their truth the first time they kiss another girl. I write about women who are beautiful, smart, and accomplished, because none of those things are mutually exclusive, and all of them deserve to be celebrated.

What you will judge the most, however, is the fact that I also write feminist erotic fiction. Feminist, in this usage, does not equal having a doctorate or dressing modestly. My feminism centers on fierce, unbridled sexuality without shame or apology. And also wearing whatever the f*ck we want. Like you, I am “a proud feminist with little desire to diet, get plastic surgery or hire a personal trainer…” (Although, have you ever had a personal trainer? I did, briefly, and it was awesome. Turns out physical exercise is beneficial for every human, not just the beautiful, sexy ones.) I also do not look like a typical starlet, and I never have.

Unlike you, however, I have been harassed, groped, and propositioned on numerous occasions, both inside and outside of Hollywood.

With the rash of spotlights being shone on sexual predators, so many people are sharing their stories of assault, harassment, and abuse – men and women alike. I’ve never shared my stories publicly, but like countless others inspired by your perfunctory opinion piece, I’ve decided to share my stories with you.

I’ve been molested three times. Once by a stranger, who put his hand under my shirt, groping my breasts. Twice by people I considered friends, who put their hands down my pants and between my legs. All three times, I woke up to these things happening. I was asleep. The stranger stumbled into my tent at a music festival. One friend climbed into bed with me at a house party, in a back room where I’d gone to lie down. The other friend took liberties after I’d spent part of our evening telling him about the other instances I’ve just disclosed to you.

Obviously, sadly, this point needs to be made again and again: I was not flirting. I was not dressed in scandalous clothing. I did not ask for it. I was asleep.

Inside Hollywood, I worked on an indie film with some well-known stars. I was on set as both a PA and a stand in for the lead actress. The DP made several untoward comments about my attractiveness while lighting scenes, and I just ignored him. I wanted to keep my job, and saying anything at all felt like a risk. At the wrap party, he cornered me and said, “We should go somewhere. Let’s go somewhere and fuck.” I wasn’t in his hotel room. I wasn’t asking anyone to help advance my career. I was a 22-year-old woman who wanted to make movies, thrilled to have one of her first real jobs on set. Tragically, my instinct and priority in this moment was to not get myself blacklisted from working on other sets. I did not want to offend this highly offensive man, because his was the position of power. Instead of kneeing him in the balls, I reminded him he was married, to which he replied, “So what?” and moved in to put his hands on me. By some miracle, the asinine trick of pretending to wave at a friend across the room and slip away from him worked. I then immediately found a large male grip who I trusted, asked him to walk me to my car, and left.

As you said, women should be able to wear what we want, flirt how we want, and be as sexual as we want, without fear of what liberties people will take because of ‘our behavior.’ We should also be able to do all of those things, and pursue a career in the film and television industry – or any industry – without someone in a comfortable position of esteem and success telling us that any behavior outside of modest clothes, prim interactions with men, and private sexuality is naïve.

The proliferation of women telling women’s stories is absolutely a part of the change we so desperately need in both Hollywood and our society. Another part of that change is to champion every woman’s agency, over her work, her body, her life, and her sexuality. What we need to do for each other, as women, is to advocate for all of us to live as we choose. For you, Ms. Bialik, shopping at Talbot’s and embracing propriety are not oppressive. For me, they are. In spite of, or perhaps because of, my past experiences, I refuse to shrink. I refuse to make myself smaller, to mute my sensuality, style, or personhood to a size that will make other people comfortable.

So the next time you see a woman in a really short skirt tossing her hair while she talks to a man, I urge you to practice adjusting your attitude. It’s a simple phrase, easy to remember:

Good for her, not for me.

Only when we are all seen, heard, and valued for the full complexity of our beings – including our sexual expression – will women truly be treated as equals in our society. Equally respected, equally worthy, and equally free.

Sincerely,

 

Elizabeth Dwyer Sandlin
Writer, Actor, Shameless Hussy

1385349_10151661995426933_1055536682_n

Black is Beautiful

History proves that in every cultural shift, there is a moment when the fabric of our society stretches too thin. Where the people who are suffering reach a breaking point. It isn’t always a clear-cut moment, like Stonewall or Rosa on the bus. Sometimes the moment of breaking is an accumulation of too many other moments of agony.

That is the moment we are all living in, right now.

I’ve seen some calls to action for the next couple of weeks. September 25th has been deemed a Black Self Care Day, and Isaiah Washington is calling for African Americans to stay home on September 26th. There is a powerful political bent to this latter action, but it was the phrase “Our goal is to maintain the safety of our people…” that broke my heart.

What is this world we live in, where 15% of the U.S. population is not guaranteed safety in public spaces, for no reason beyond the color of their skin*? This is not 1916, it is 2016. This is the 21st century, and we as a people are better than this. We can do so much better.

These actions are geared towards the black community, and understandably so. If you, like me, are a white person who wants to be a proactive ally in this fight, here are several things you can do to help.

Per Luvvie’s rally cry, I intend to be a white co-conspirator. Starting with this post, every day for the rest of September (at least), I will Do Something to help. It may not always be a blog post. It may be something as simple as retweeting a powerful message from a beautiful black voice. Whatever it is, it will be something. I will use Luvvie’s list as my guide, and I will conspire with the black community to create change for people of color in this country, because this madness needs to stop.

To all the people of color I know and love, and to those I don’t know who are scared and angry and suffocated by these atrocities…

I see you. I see your humanity. You are not alone, we are in this together. This fight belongs to all of us. I stand with you. Together we will celebrate your lives and work tirelessly to ensure your freedom, the true freedom that belongs to every citizen of our colorful, multifarious, democratic nation. You are beautiful. You matter. Your life matters.

And because this blog is devoted to portrayals of women in entertainment and the media, I’d like to highlight some of the best, baddest, brightest black ladies in the game. Thank you for all that you are and all that you do.

Lupita Nyong’o / Tracee Ellis Ross
Taraji P. Henson / Leslie Jones / Kerry WashingtonJanelle Monáe

 

*if you are reading this and you truly believe that the epidemic of people of color dying at the hands of police officers in the U.S. is not race-related, I urge you to examine your conscience; if that isn’t enough, examine the Facts, and then examine your conscience again. 

 

Consent is Sexy, and So is Your Mom

There are a lot of pervasive myths in our society about women and sexuality. If you were to take the bulk of film, TV, and advertising at face value, you would likely assume the following:

  1. Men are more interested in sex than women
  2. Women over the age of… let’s say 35… are not sexy
  3. Women who are mothers are not sexy (and should not be sexual)
  4. Women are either deviant sexpots or chaste asexual beings
    • Yes, the Madonna and the Whore dichotomy is alive and well
  5. When women are sexual it’s solely in the interest of pleasing men
  6. Female sexuality is only acceptable when presented by and for men

Unsurprisingly, I’m here to tell you that this is all a load of bullsh*t. Here’s the truth as I see it, based on my lifelong experience as a woman (who is also intimately close to a substantial number of other women).

1 – Oh My God do we love sex. Not all of us, of course, but an awful lot of us really really really love sex.* And – brace yourself – not every man does.

2 – Most women…

Can we sidebar with the disclaimer that yes, I am making generalizations and there are exceptions to every rule and so on and so forth? Agreed? Good. Back to it.

2 – Most women are at their sexiest once they reach their 30s and 40s, for no other reason than we are at our most confident. We are more comfortable in our skin than ever before, having shed the angst and neediness of our twenties. We also know what we want, what we like, and (hopefully) how to express those desires. (Seriously, I think we can all agree that right now, JLo is the sexiest she has ever been.) Speaking of sexy mamas…

3 – I know, I know… you don’t want to think of your mother as a person who has ever been sexual. But guess what? You exist, so. Your mother has had sex.** This inability to separate a woman’s individuality from her identity as A Mother is dangerous for many reasons, but right now we’re focusing on her sexual agency. To wit:

I am a mother. I can see 40 in my not-too-distant future. I am also sensual and alluring, and I love sex.

Not only do I love sex, but I am and always have been a fiercely sexual being. When I consider creating art / working on projects / writing posts like this that embrace and celebrate women’s sexuality, there is a part of me that questions that choice, because I am a mother and according to society… 

4 – I am not allowed to be Charlotte and Samantha at the same time. I am supposed to be one or the other. But the truth is, I am both of those women. I love being a mother and I love sex. And when I consider what I want my daughter to see and experience and know in her core to be true, it is this:

Sexual Expression vs. Objectification – There is An Enormous Difference

– Rape, harassment, sexism, etc… these are not byproducts of women expressing their sexuality. It’s when women are Sexually Objectified that things fall apart. Sexual Objectification diminishes women’s agency over our own bodies and our worth as human beings.

But guess what?

If I want to start an Instagram account celebrating my sexy ass body and my love of lingerie (which is real and profound), it is not an invitation to violate me.

This is what we need to teach our children. That women are allowed to be sexual creatures, and to express our sexuality however we choose, and in a better world we would be able to do so without fear of scorn or (at times horrifying) retribution. Which leads me to my final point:

– Yes, when I express myself in a sexual way, I enjoy and appreciate a positive response. (I’m a Leo, so. Duh.) However, my sexuality is mine and mine alone. If I want to express it privately or publicly, shyly or brazenly, coyly or salaciously, these are my choices. When it comes to my own personal sexual expression, you don’t get to tell me how to behave.***

The patriarchal approach to women’s sexuality is to appropriate it and manipulate it, because – frankly – a woman solid in her own sexual power is terrifying. Patriarchal society only thrives when women are repressed and oppressed, and if you think that isn’t the case today, that we’ve reached any kind of gender parity where sex is concerned, just ask the victims of the college athletes who’ve been in the news lately for sexually assaulting unconscious women. Ask those women if they feel valued. If they feel justice was served after they were robbed of their sexual agency.

For those of you who prefer visual aids, here are some examples of Sexual Expression vs. Sexual Objectification:

Boobs = burgers = boobs are food = Objectification

Proposal = she’ll let you bone her = Objectification

Everything about this = Objectification 

As for Sexual Expression, let’s include those images right here in the post, yes? Because who doesn’t love a little sassy, saucy, sexual agency?

Dita von Teese = Burlesque = Sexual Expression

Screen Shot 2016-08-31 at 12.00.35 PM

http://www.dita.net/femme-fatale/gallery

Beyoncé = Boss = Sexual Expression

Screen Shot 2016-08-31 at 12.12.03 PM

http://www.beyonce.com/vault/?type=editorial

Gina Rodriguez = Self-Love, Acceptance, and Celebration = Sexual Expression

Screen Shot 2016-08-31 at 12.28.19 PM

https://www.instagram.com/hereisgina/

The moral of these musings, my darling rabble rousers, is simple:

Celebrating women’s sexuality and sexual expression = GOOD!
Turning women into sexual objects = BAD

Also, I may just have to start that Instagram account, because there shouldn’t be anything shocking or scandalous about a mother who can see 40 in her not-too-distant future, who is also sensual and alluring, and loves sex.

 

*We possess the only organ in the human anatomy that exists solely for pleasure, for cryin’ out loud!
**She maybe even enjoyed herself. Deal with it.
***Unless of course we have an explicit agreement to that effect, because consent is sexy.

On Hamilton and Casting

Ever since I saw this floating around the interwebs, I’ve been stewing on what exactly I want to say about it.
I’m a white actress and writer, and I’ve been auditioning for theatre, film, and TV for over 20 years. The majority of the casting calls I see and receive include specifications about race. We’re talking at least 90%, probably more. They also always specify gender, frequently include age ranges, physical descriptors, and often absurd “qualifications” (especially for women). Casting is a world that operates very differently from your typical employer/employee relationship. I’m not here to argue the legality or moral implications of these facts. I’m telling you that when it comes to casting, this is the current reality.
Hamilton is a revelation. It’s a brilliant and captivating piece of theatre like nothing we’ve ever seen before. It’s “not a moment it’s a movement.” Whether you know it or see it or like it, Hamilton reflects the world that we live in. As creator Lin Manuel Miranda said, Hamilton is
If you’re a white actor feeling left out of this opportunity because of your race, well… take a minute to imagine feeling that way every single day, in damn near everything that you do. Then take another minute to acknowledge the privilege of a life where you almost never, ever, ever have to think about that. 
Work
#work

#OscarofMyHeart

Ever since I’ve known of their existence, I have watched the Oscars every single year, save one. We’re talking decades of Oscar watching. (Why I missed the Oscars that one year is a post in and of itself, but let’s just say there was a pretty girl involved.) I love the Oscars. The era of Billy Crystal hosting the Oscars was a tenet of my childhood. I remember my favorite winners and their speeches and often, yes, what they wore. The Oscars are my Super Bowl. Usually, I throw a fancy little Oscar party, where everyone gets all gussied up, and we drink a lot of champagne and do a lot of celebrating. Sometimes I even roll out a cheap little “red carpet.”

Like everyone else with a sliver of social awareness, I am also very, very tired of the straight white male Hollywood boys club. It’s extremely frustrating every time the nominees are announced, and – once again – people of color and women are not recognized for their cinematic contributions in Hollywood. The #OscarsSoWhite controversy primarily focuses on the acting categories, with some scrutiny of the nominated directors. The sea of white faces (and male, for directors), is tiresome at best, and at worst, it’s a sad reflection of the pervasive racism and sexism that persists in the world’s most dominant creator of cinematic entertainment.

As an actress, I am thrilled whenever I see something different in those categories. “Something different” includes anything other than beautiful, twenty-something white gals. Which isn’t to say that those ladies don’t deserve their spot at the table. It’s to say that the hyper-focus on youth and Hollywood beauty* excludes and invalidates the experiences and stories of older women, women of color, women who aren’t thin or who don’t meet a highly inflated standard of what qualifies as attractive/sexy. Start looking at the women nominated vs. the men. Start paying attention, and you won’t be able to stop.

As a writer, I pay special attention to the Original and Adapted Screenplay nominations, and if a woman or person of color is on either of those lists, it’s like goddamn Christmas. This year, the only women nominated for Original Screenplay are part of writing teams – a phenomenon so common, if you only used the Oscars as a barometer, you’d think women are incapable of writing scripts without the help of a man. In the Adapted category, women fare slightly better, with Phyllis Nagy nominated for Carol, her adaptation of a Patricia Highsmith novel (The Price of Salt) and Emma Donoghue for her adaptation of her own novel, Room.

This brings us to directors. I’m the most tired of sharing these stats (So. Depressing.) but since it’s important to know, here you go:

  • 88 years of Oscar
  • 4 women nominated for Best Director
  • 1 woman has won (Kathryn Bigelow in 2010 for The Hurt Locker)

If inclusive nominations among the writers is like Christmas, when women** show up among the Best Director nominees, it’s f*cking Christmakwanzakah.

The sexism and racism of Hollywood is not a problem that begins and ends with the Oscars. It is inherent and systemic, and needs to be tackled in many different ways from many different arenas if we are to affect real change.

Since the 2016 Oscar nominations were announced, and declarations of boycotting began to surface, I’ve discussed these issues with many admired and trusted people in my life, both within the industry and without. In the end, I’ve decided to go ahead and watch the Oscars. Because I am a writer and an actor, I believe there is more tangible work I can do from the ground up, to ensure that more and more unique voices and stories are heard and recognized. Through the stories I write, the characters I play, and the films I hope to one day produce, I will help make the seats at those coveted tables more far-reaching, inclusive, and welcoming.

That being said, I’m not having a party this year. I’m watching the awards with two friends and my 15-month-old daughter. We aren’t getting dressed up, and we aren’t drinking champagne. The super fab soirée that is E’s Oscar Party is shut down until further notice. I’m going to watch the Oscars, but I’m not going to celebrate them. I won’t celebrate them again until there is truly something to celebrate.

Oscar Party
On Hold Until Further Notice

*yes, this is different from Real World Beauty

**I looked for stats on PoC nominated for/winners of Best Director. All I could find were stats that either strictly addressed black nominees (there have only been three), or “foreign born” nominees/winners, many of whom are white. If anyone knows where to find stats on PoC nominated/awarded the Best Director Oscar, I’d love to see them.

To Feminist or Not To Feminist

Hooray, it’s Friday Feminist Funtimes! Apropos of FFF, the Identifying as a Feminist debate rages on, as does the What Feminism Needs debate, the Feminism is For All debate, and the I’m An Ism You’re An Ism debate. There’s feminist debate fun to be had by all!

Many of you will recall that Emma Watson (#Hermione4Life) recently gave a killer speech at the UN. Initially it received a lot of attention, which is not surprising considering Ms. Watson’s level of celebrity. What was less publicized was the immediate threat that followed, in the form of a website that popped up, featuring a countdown clock and the implication that nude photos of Ms. Watson would be released when it expired.

As mentioned on Lainey Gossip, Ms. Watson’s fierce reaction to this (baseless) threat, her passionate feminism, and her ambitions for the He For She campaign are not sustaining headlines. Odds are far greater that you’ll come across some new form of “OMG She Lost Her Baby Weight!” than updates on the UN’s Solidarity Movement for Gender Equality, even with Hermione as their ambassador.

Sidebar: I mean no offense to Ms. Gran– um, I mean Watson, by ofttimes referring to her as Hermione. On the contrary, having just re-read the HP series (for the third time <– nerd alert), I consider it to be a form of high praise. Should Ms. Watson ever stumble on to the tiny universe of BeautyCoup, I hope she would agree.

Moving on… A breakdown of Hermione’s interview on the Guardian’s website details many of the kick ass things she had to say, and I highly recommend you take a few moments to read it. Immediately following said article, I discovered some thoughts from Roxane Gay about feminism, specifically as it relates to celebrities like Emma Watson and Jennifer Lawrence embracing the word, ideals, and in Emma’s case, activism.

Fewer of you will be familiar with Roxane Gay. She’s a columnist, an author, and a vocal feminist. I generally like what she has to say, due to the age-old concept of preaching to the choir. But this time around, several things about her article started to make me bristle. Feminism is a movement of inclusion, and her arguments began to sound rather exclusionary. She makes the following points in her article, which I shall address in turn:

  • Celebrity endorsements of feminism are infuriating… Hmm. Disagree. I understand her point that wrapping feminism up in a pretty package to make it more palatable is not ideal. However. Fame is not an aspect of our culture that will ever magically disappear. In this age of information and misinformation, we are more saturated than ever with celebrities – their products, their lives, their children, their relationships, and their causes. How we react to celebrity behavior says a lot about who we are as a society. As I set out to raise my own little rabble-rouser, I would much rather see tons of celebrities (regardless of their appearance, age, or gender) embracing the identity of Feminist. We should not discredit ardent feminists because of how they look. If these young, famous women who meet society’s absurd beauty standards want to use their powers for good, then I say:

amen

  • The rebranding of feminism is not a magical solution… Agree. With a small caveat. Even with the famous pretty faces waving their feminism flags, there are still so many people (so many women!) who are afraid of the word feminist, let alone actually embracing the work of feminism. Again, with all of the information thrown at us on a daily basis, a sharp way of communicating the true meaning and ambitions of feminism isn’t the worst idea.
  • This point I have to quote directly, because it’s the part of Ms. Gay’s article that I struggle with the most:

“This is the real problem feminism faces. Too many people are willfully ignorant about what the word means and what the movement aims to achieve. But when a pretty young woman has something to say about feminism, all of a sudden, that broad ignorance disappears or is set aside because, at last, we have a more tolerable voice proclaiming the very messages feminism has been trying to impart for so damn long.”

To her first point, that too many people are ignorant when it comes to the meaning and movement of feminism: Agree! It’s a huge problem that so many people equate feminist with being anti-man, and the movement of feminism as exclusionary.

To her second point about pretty young women speaking out as feminists: Disagree! Emma Watson and Jennifer Lawrence and Beyoncé have not eradicated broad ignorance about feminism with their declarations. They are chipping away at that ignorance by speaking out as feminists and, to make my final point, one more quote from Ms. Gay:

“We run into trouble, though, when we celebrate celebrity feminism while avoiding the actual work of feminism.”

Agree. Which is why, when we have someone like Emma Hermione Watson standing up as the face of a United Nations campaign in order to clarify what it means to be a feminist, expose those who might not otherwise hear it to the truths of feminism, and yes, do the actual work of feminism, as far as I see it, that’s something to celebrate.

emma_watson_un

Now I’d like to see this Moment turned into some Serious Action:

beyfeminist

What will it be?? Beyoncé-themed confidence building curriculum for girls in junior high? Beyoncé Love Your Body dance classes?? A Beyoncé Feminism 101 website? I have big dreams, because if anyone can do it, it’s Queen B.

Ps. An FFF Morsel: Julianne Moore stomps on the “mani cam”