Yesterday a man strolled by dressed as Colonel Sanders, carrying a prop chicken bucket. A rather antiquarian costume choice, I thought, unlikely to score many points with the gods, gladiators, zombies, vampiras, Disney cuties, and mutant experiments gone awry dominating the snaking scene, but perhaps he was taking part in some sort of "skit."
After the Snow White and the Huntsman rollout in hallowed Hall H, I was remarking to Justin how tired Kristen Stewart's affected emo shtick had gotten, how she slumps in her chair on stage half-turned to the audience (while all of her fellow panelists faced front), hanging her head as if all of the fame were too much and too new for her, swallowing her answers and hiding behind her hair. Given the dozens of press and fan events she's done, when is she going to stop acting like a teenager dragged out of her room to the dinner table?
To which a young fan of restricted height but loyal fierceness, overhearing us, wheeled her head around and said: "Kristen's not pretending, she's just REALLY SHY!"
I stand corrected.
Vanity Fair
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