I do so hope her handlers put her in something Oscar de la Renta-ey.
And I think she could totally pull off this Marni get up, too.
Aw, heck, while I'm hallucinating, let's go all out and imagine her in some Alexander McQueen.
See now, Hillary? That's a pantsuit.
The only thing preventing me from indulging in my own form of retail therapy is that I'm not allowed to leave the house until 9:00 a.m. Friday morning. But when I do, I think I'll have to make these mine, all mine. I know. I swore I'd never, never, never, never, never do the bootie thing. But, look, I figure if I smack myself silly beforehand and blame it all on my stress induced twilight zone, I'll be okay.