Lord knows I love Jennifer Hudson. There is not a lot her voice can't do -- I mean, I am a national anthem purist, so I hate it when people put in all these extra vanity bells and whistles, and she kinda did that toward the end at the Super Bowl... yet I STILL got misty and thought it was powerful and pretty. So clearly, something about her and her talent really gets to me. I also think she's gorgeous and am so relieved she's actually proud of her curves -- unlike most of the people in Hollywood who say, "I am proud of my curves," and either (a) are stick-straight size 2s, (b) immediately lose 20 lbs in two weeks, or (c) both.
So let's get the unpleasant part out of the way:
This thing brings a new and aggressive meaning to the concept of a Kleenex pocket pack. And how did she resist the temptation to lean down and blot her lip gloss every twenty minutes? It's RIGHT THERE. I also can't figure out why there appears to be a cummerbund made of tissue paper strapping the offending white linen to her torso. Maybe the Kleenex company and the good people at Hallmark decided to join forces to create the world's first strapless dickey.
Happily for J.Hud, it gets better:
So let's get the unpleasant part out of the way:
This thing brings a new and aggressive meaning to the concept of a Kleenex pocket pack. And how did she resist the temptation to lean down and blot her lip gloss every twenty minutes? It's RIGHT THERE. I also can't figure out why there appears to be a cummerbund made of tissue paper strapping the offending white linen to her torso. Maybe the Kleenex company and the good people at Hallmark decided to join forces to create the world's first strapless dickey.
Happily for J.Hud, it gets better:
Not only was her performance amazing, but I thought she looked absolutely gorgeous in this figure-cuddling gown. We've got hips and cleavage, some wicked fuchsia earrings that are -- as Posh would say -- MAJOR, and her skin utterly glows. I wish this photo did her more justice.
I have to say, I respect her a lot for how she's handled herself in the wake of a family tragedy the likes of which I cannot fathom. I don't know how you cope with that when you're NOT in the public eye, much less when you're under the scrutiny of the world and its photo lenses. But she's just gone about her healing in a quiet, classy way, and let the emotion that pours out of her performances speak for itself. When she teared up at the end of the song -- and I could swear, had trouble finishing it -- I got weepy right along with her. It was a triumphant tribute, and here's hoping 2009 brings her nothing but the unimaginable joy of which she was robbed in 2008.
Sniffle. I need to recover with some leggings made of bat droppings, or something. Get on it, please, Mischa.
