Chris Pine Wearing His Silly Little Shoes

Nothing to do with DWD. Promise.

Chris Pine and Gemma Chan are seen during the 79th Venice International Film Festival on September 5. Photo: Franco Origlia/Getty Images.

Chris Pine, you may have noticed lately, is bravely transforming into Jeff Bridges. If you have eyes and a wifi connection, you might have noticed this change. The actor, famous for Princess Diaries 2: Royal Engagement and Hell or High Water and, most importantly, this one Star Trek interview from 2009 that had the Tumblr girls besotted, is Bridges junior, Bridges adjacent. The grown-out blonde hair, the facial hair (artfully scraggly, not raggedy), that certain masculine jenny se quah — it’s giving Bridges, Kris Kristofferson, a little bit James Caan, an undertone of Robert Redford. (Or, basically, most of the men that starred opposite Barbra Streisand — she is always ahead of her time.)

I am in favor of this change — more men should be making this leap, if you ask me. But there is one detail that fills me with equal parts glee and disgust. I am repulsed by it as much as I relish in it. It makes absolutely zero sense to me one moment, and the next I think, ‘Well nothing really makes sense anyway if you think about it for too long. And that’s why I’m so bad at math.’ I am, of course, speaking about Chris Pine and his Silly Little Shoes.

The Silly Little Shoe — SLS, you could call them — is at once completely impractical but totally correct. It is an act of narcissism but also a luxurious personal adornment. It is right for no occasion but also wrong for no occasion — it is, if you can believe it, occasion-less! The Silly Little Shoe says: I’m not in a rush, darling. I am on God’s timing, not man’s. The Silly Little Shoes says: Here is Silly Little Me. 🤭