Misc. Awards Shows

This picture of Christel Khalil from The Young and the Restless -- who played the daughter of crazy-hat-wearing Victoria Rowell, made out with her current boyfriend at her own divorce party, and had a whole storyline where she got gonorrhea, although everyone seems to have forgotten about that -- is technically not a scrolldown, because it was better at the bottom than at the top.

So I MADE it a scrolldown.

The color is fantastic, I love the train, the dress has so much potential.... and then, the accessories.

It's hurting my head to look at them this way, so let's flip her over again.

There is something very pretty about this outfit. And something very "Once upon a time, in a far-away land, there lived a prince and his girlfriend."

"They were the happiest couple in the land, or at least in the twelfth grade; she gave him a good-luck pin to wear on his breeches, and she was often to be seen running around the village with his Varsity Jousting Team Cape affixed to her shoulders. The girlfriend would go to all her prince's  tournaments, and in turn he would help run her campaign for class president and show up at fundraisers and let her auction him off for charity to handsy old women who wanted a hot dinner date. It was a match made in heaven, until she caught him making out with her best friend in the spear shed near the castle moat, kicked him in the gauntlet, burned his cape, and then went on to become the owner of the most powerful mead brewery in the country -- which bought his pro jousting team and then fired him. The moral of this tale: Revenge is sweet; capes are not."

The first time around I missed a lot of Mad Men, because I couldn't watch them fast enough to keep my TiVo from replacing old ones with newer episodes. Now, if we're being honest, usually my reaction to heavily hyped stuff that passed me by the first time around is to get kind of overly aggravated by it and ignore it, until my defenses are so worn down that one idle day I sit down with whatever it is and think, "Okay, let's see how TOTALLY BAD this really is," ending of course with me completely on board and secretly admitting it's kind of great. This happened with One Tree Hill some time ago, with Dawson's Creek back in the day, and with wedge shoes. But Mad Men, I knew I wanted to see. And as I've been catching up piecemeal in reruns, the hype is totally not misplaced. It's very well done.

January Jones (who was indeed born in January; she should be relieved she wasn't a September baby), in particular, is great in it. So I really wanted to love whatever she wore to the SAG Awards. And indeed, I love her face, which thankfully she brought with her.

But:

I can't really get behind this. It looks like a homemade Valentine. And while that's great in elementary school, and one might argue that the SAG Awards are an elementary awards show only getting major attention because the Golden Globes were out sick and needed an understudy, I just wish January had gone for a gown that reminded me less of something I traditionally would've accessorized with a doily.

I've been staring at this photo for a few days now, and I still can't decide fully.

What do you think: avant garde...

... or wearable modern art entitled Aborted Straitjacket?

Oh, Amanda Bynes. You're so nice and person-colored now.

And that gown is totally gorgeous -- love that peacock color, love the bodice, love the flirty layers at the bottom, love the way it fits her.  The hair might be a little twee, but you know what? I don't care today. That's right. Dare I say it, I'm in a GOOD MOOD, and looking at this dress only enhances it -- like frosting on an already really yummy piece of carrot cake. I am pretty sure that those boys in the background are trying really hard not to stare at her, but inside, are totally stoked that Hot Amanda Bynes is standing mere feet from them and are planning to tell all their friends tomorrow that they held her hand and that she promised they'd get married in 15 years. Or, you know, whatever it is that boys do. Having no brothers, I can't say for sure. Doodling your names jointly inside a big heart all over a spiral notebook and then frantically doing MASH, trying to cheat so that you end up married, living in a mansion, driving a Ferrari, working as a movie star, having three kids, and owning stacks of emeralds, seems like it's more of a girly response.

I'm not sure what's up with turning your boobs into a befuddling curiosity. It's not as if most people don't find a lady's bustline interesting in and of itself -- no, now it needs a gimmick. First Kate Hudson glides down the SAG carpet looking like a pigeon has flown headfirst into her sternum, and now Sandra Oh is joining the fray:

Actually, I just noticed that the black fabric has splotches on it that almost look like very organized raindrops, so staring at those is a diversion in and of itself that is terrible for my brow furrow. Mostly, though, I find the massive bow growing out of her chest sort of confusing. As if all this time, we never realized that all those gigantic ribbons people stick on their brand-new Lexus-- the one they secretly bought their partner for Christmas, drove home under apparent cover of deep night, and parked in the driveway, all totally unbeknownst to their unsuspicious and probably a tad unobservant spouse/parent/significant other -- are actually manufactured straight from Sandra Oh's mammaries. Once it's done you just clip it off and another one starts to form in its place. Kind of creepy from an anatomical point of view, but as performance art, it's a pretty impressive side gig.

** Okay, so this is what we get for being in midair during the SAGs, and cross-eyed with jet-lag today -- apparently Sandra is paying homage to traditional Korean garb called a hanbok. So I will resist the urge to strap her to a brand-new vehicle and gift it to someone by burying the keys in a pile of pancakes, and instead applaud her for getting in touch with her heritage while apologizing for the fact that I am out of touch with my non-pop-culture references. Next thing you know someone will show up in a bodice shaped like Eiffel Tower and I'll be all, "Hey, look, it's that casino in Las Vegas!" And then Jessica will have to behead me. It'll be so tragic.

The first thing that strikes me about this photo is how much Kate Hudson looks like her mother:

The second thing is how pale and wan and unenthusiastic she looks. The third thing is that I feel like she wears this sort of dress ALL THE TIME. There is certainly something to be said for wearing a style of clothes that works for you -- which is why I wear so many turbans -- but there is MORE to be said for wearing something that doesn't prompt the reaction, "is this picture from like six years ago?"

Whether or not Angelina Jolie is actually pregnant, she sure knows how to make sure the rumors are swirling like the chocolate-vanilla soft-serve cone she might be dipping pickles and cheese into:

And Brad knows how to feed into rumors that he is in need of a three-day nap. But Angelina... I have to say, she really can wear almost anything and look fantastic. I still find myself wishing it were, say, blood red -- you know, since she doesn't have to worry about it being too matchy with her vial of Type AB or whatever --  but on the whole you could pleat a Hefty bag and Angelina would work it. Of course, if she's NOT pregnant, then this choice is a little more confusing. Surely she is be-fetused, though, right? It's Angie. She's not going to veer off the freeway at the Caftan City exit, past the Cheesecake Factory at the Rue McClanahan Rest Stop and Service Plaza, unless she's playing coy with the contents of her womb.

There's a lot I could say about Jane Krakowksi's unfortunate craft-fair bodice:

But the fact that our image provider has her uniformly labeled as "Marla Maples" kind of says it all, no?

At the People's Choice Awards, which I admit I did not watch, apparently all the acceptance speeches were pre-taped because of the writers' strike (no one actually attended except the host, Queen Latifah, who was probably terribly embarrassed she'd gotten stuck in this situation and got an eleventh-hour call from her lawyers that they couldn't find her an exit loophole).

Joaquin Phoenix decided not to employ actual speech in his speech, preferring to hold up a series of cue cards to express his "gratitude" for having been chosen by the people. This was his first mistake.

No, his first mistake was living so rough for the past however-long that he looks a bit like an accountant right after tax season: bloated, tired, and as if he's being scraped off the fender of a giant bus that's recently mowed him down.

Anyway, Joaquin's gesture was evidently his way of supporting the strike -- I'm not sure how, though, since somebody did actually WRITE the words onto a piece of paper. He does know it's not a speaker's strike, right?

Here's what I didn't know:

[Photo: Splash News]

Apparently, proofreaders are on strike as well. Or maybe now that text messaging is a series of largely illiterate abbreviations, the letter U is sick and tired of working so hard AND bringing all those Sesame Street episodes to you, and has walked off the job until it gets a pay raise, a massage, and at least two solo numbers in its next show.