I am only slightly ashamed to admit that I’ve watched Bridget Jones’s Diary. I am, however, much more ashamed to admit that if I’m channel surfing and it’s on TV, I will watch it. I don’t know why – maybe it’s Renee Zelleweger’s endearingly terrible attempt at a British accent, maybe it’s the fact that I love Colin Firth when he’s any incarnation of a Darcy, or that I love Hugh Grant now that he’s taken to playing unrepentant assholes. Whatever the reason, it is at the top of my guilty pleasure list, alongside Ella Enchanted and anything starring a Disney Channel actress.
I have a sneaking suspicion that Bridget Jones’s Diary is a guilty pleasure over at the Diane von Furstenberg offices. That’s the only reasonable explanation for why they’ve released a pair of bikini bottoms that bear a striking resemblance to Bridget’s shockingly large underpants.
Terrible British accent and cute British boys not included.
(photo courtesy of ShopBop)