The Ladies Of Reign Should Have All Frozen To Death By Now

We all had fun a couple of weeks back when I pointed out how very contemporary the looks of Reign seemed to be, considering that the show takes place in 16th-century France. Believe me, I understand that this show's costumers — like the ones who work on The CW's other period drama, The Carrie Diaries — are trying to suggest the era rather than slavishly recreate it, and I know Reign doesn't have the budget of, like, Shakespeare In Love. If they want to take some anachronistic liberties with the styling, I might snicker, but I get it.

That said, there's an issue with the costumes that I can no longer ignore: these ladies really need to bundle up.

I live in Los Angeles, and look, I'm not trying to get into a pissing contest about the weather with those of you who have to try to ford six-foot-deep puddles of icy water or spend an hour digging your driveway into a snowbank that ends up taller than you are. (The latter really happened to my sister in suburban Toronto. She's only 4'11", but still!) But when I get up in the very early morning, it's cold in here. It's still February, and our home is not insulated. And even as I sit here in my cozy house sweater and Uggs WHICH I ONLY WEAR AS SLIPPERS, NEVER OUT OF DOORS, watching Reign makes me feel so sympathetically cold.

Above is poor Queen Catherine, pondering whether she can choke down some oatmeal in her prison cell. Fine: maybe you can fanwank this by suggesting that her sheer sleeves are just part of her punishment — or you could, if Megan Follows were shivering or giving any indication that she was suffering for the cold in this huge castle. But she seems perfectly comfortable, if annoyed by her straitened circumstances and possible imminent execution.

Leaving aside the fact that this entire look, head to toe, walked straight out of my local Free People, a girl with this little body fat should be unable to speak because her teeth are chattering too hard.

"But wait, if this one is just hanging out at court in cap sleeves, it must be summertime, right?"

"Wrong," says this fur-lined cape.

But by far the most egregiously inappropriate gown is the last one Mary wears in the episode. Poor Mary is not even afforded the tiny amount of protection from the elements in this chateau — which most definitely is not centrally heated — of a couple of cap sleeves. Not for France's future queen! She has to make do with a sleeveless halter number and try her best not to turn blue before she can take the throne. It's not fair.