Then there was a scene in the middle of Season 1 in which the king of France needs to be vulnerable, and the costume designer decided his usual black jacket with 15 gold buckles on it was too tough for the scene. Their solution was to drive down the street to JCPenney and buy a sweater for him.
For reference, this is what he looked like before they decided to go with the winter clearance sale option:
That sweater made me so angry. I did a lot for Reign. I said nothing when they named Mary’s lady in waiting “Lola.” I said nothing when sexy Nostradamus was a lead character. But when I saw that damn sweater, I lost all hope for this fictional universe. Also my current physical universe. I’m pretty sure that sweater got Trump elected. That sweater was the First Horseman of the Reign apocalypse, heralding future seasons of absolute nonsense. In a world in which sweaters existed in 1558, anything is possible, all the rules are made up, and in a soul-crushingly existential way, literally nothing matters.
Pretty Little Liars Had No Idea How Teenagers Dress
I’m not sure if Pretty Little Liars actually had a costume designer. It looks like they chose pieces of clothing based on an ancient pagan ritual that involves cutting a chicken’s head off, and whatever it’s blood touches as it’s headless body runs in a circle goes onto an actress. These poor tiny actresses are plainly miserable, weighed down by sequins, leather, and so many accessories that a New Jersey drag queen would tell them to tone it down, honey.