Ugh, this episode was painful. From Serena and Tripp’s reluctance to live in the a world where logic…I don’t know…pops in once in a while? to Chuck’s Ghost Dad hallucinations, “The Debarted” was one episode I’m glad to leave in the middle of a dark road as target practice for Tripp’s Range Rover.
Let’s examine this trio. You may call them Jack, Jackie, and Marilyn (btw, I’m still spelling Jack’s name as Tripp, not Trip. It was Tripp in the previous season, so despite what his campaign posters said, I’m sticking with the extra P.)
First, we have Marilyn:
Sweet, naive Serena who believes that Love Will Keep Us Together.
She’s the canary in the cage, if you substitute canary for dumb 18 year old in a wrap sweater and cage for the not-a-cottage.
See this hat? Remember it.
Post accident (I maintain that those were husky dogs, not wolves) Serena appears to be fine, other than a few bumps and scrapes. Which begs the question – WHY DOESN’T TRIPP’S CAR HAVE AIRBAGS? Also, I’d like to know why NO ONE IS QUESTIONING HER BANGED UP HEAD and the MATCHING WINDSHIELD MARK on the PASSENGER’S SIDE not the DRIVERS SIDE WHERE TRIPP MOVED HER! Questions, people…questions! Also, CAPITAL LETTERS!
Whatev. Serena has no time for this nonsense. She’s got a perfume commercial to shoot.
SCENE: Hopsital. A beautiful blonde emerges through a set of double doors, wearing an etheral cream ensemble. VOICEOVER: “Ho Number 5. Wear it when you make bad decisions.”
Ok, on to Tripp. Drab colored sweater but sure, I’ll buy it. It looks like what our fallen Congressman would wear whilst holed up at his “cottage”.
For his jaunt outdoors, Tripp has copied the “What WASPs Wear on Crisp Autumn Days” page of the Official Preppy Handbook.
Although, I’m confused. Isn’t it post-Thanksgiving? I’m quite certain that the trees are not so golden and lovely in Nassau County, early December.
Oh! Hi, Maureen!
BRA-FREAKING-VO! I would like to marry this outfit. The coat color is perfection on her, and the status bag says she means business. I forgive the hideous outfit at Thanksgiving, Mo. You are Jackie!
And did you see the back of her hat? [insert giddy squeeling]