The new issue of Vogue features cover girl Anne Hathaway at the height of her powers: a likely Oscar nominee, newly single, two films on the way, and shopping for discount knickers.
It's a welcome diversion for reader and subject alike, who, for too long, have been treated to the media's limited view of Hathaway as merely the dog-abandoning, Senator-meeting ex ensnared in a lousy Italian boyfriend's Vatican-land baron delusion. We think it's really over now that the actress has finally made it to London for a bit of on-the-record, boutique-crashing catharsis:
"Look, she's buying cheap knickers!" somebody says. And, indeed, Hathaway is in the lingerie department, surveying the three-for-£7 panties in polka dots and funny florals—girly things. She's also interested in camisoles, jumpsuits (she tries on a strapless black corseted romper), and things that in her mind fall into the "lounge around" category. [...]
We're back to knickers for one last look. It's a psychologically charged moment. For the truth is that Hathaway recently split up with Raffaello Follieri, her boyfriend of four years, and is trying to replace all the clothes and underpinnings she associates with that relationship and that she has since tossed out—i.e., domestic apparel, those sweatpants and T-shirts and his/her sweaters in which you tackle crosswords and struggle for the remote control. "This is harder than I thought," she suddenly confesses. "I haven't done this yet. I don't know how I want to look when I lounge around."