Misc. Awards Shows

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.

Certainly, there has been no shortage of moments in Katie Holmes' life in recent years that have made us go, "Wait, SERIOUSLY?" And that's just from the couch-jumping and the engagement and pregnancy and wedding and fashion-embracing and Posh-befriending; it doesn't even include anything that's happened behind closed doors. Not that we're implying her husband is odd or anything. He's totally normal to us. Everyone we know leaps onto their living-room set at least twice daily. Furniture is a thrill.

At any rate, all things considered, nothing should surprise me with her any more. Yet somehow I still caught myself saying aloud this morning, "Wait... SERIOUSLY? Since when did Katie Holmes become someone who could pull off a TOGA?"

Bear with me here, as we got a lot of e-mails from people who could not have hated this more -- and who will, in fact, greet this with a, "Wait, SERIOUSLY?" of their own. So let me clarify: The dress itself does nothing for me. It definitely has the whiff of bedsheet about it, like maybe her exuberant husband grabbed one off the bed and ran around her twice and then screamed, "GLORIOUS,"  before hitting his head on the four-poster and passing out cold.

But Katie IN the dress... this I like. Granted, her first best move was to realize that America loves Suri, and that she should reinvent her cranium in her wee sprog's image. They are seriously ever-more the spitting image of one another. As for the dress, though, it kind of takes on a Quality on her body. It's still kind of boring to me on its own merits,  and I think on a lot of people I'd be wailing and pulling out my hair. Katie, though, looks really rather pretty. The makeup is tasteful, her bod looks amazing -- I would very much like to borrow her shoulders, if she's looking to broaden her range of charitable acts -- and although the shoes are fairly standard, they ALSO appear to fit her, make her legs look fabulous, and don't overshadow the overall look. As a result, I glance at the dress, but inevitably my attention turns to her hair, her face, her skin, her figure, and the fact that I am pretty sure she is eleven feet tall. And that's how it should be. The dress isn't wearing her; she, bluntly put, is wearing the shit out of it. So you go, Suri-Kate Holmes-Cruise. In my eyes, you won this one.

And feel free to have another kid, because you did a bang-up job the first time. I'm just saying. Think of our needs.

I don't know about you, but the first thing I thought when I saw this picture was, "HOLY [REDACTED FOR THE CHILDREN], BRAD HAS HAIR!" I totally forgot that newsboy hat of his isn't permanently attached to his head.  (That being said, as you probably already know, Brad is now selling versions of That Newsboy Hat of His through his charity Make It Right, which is helping rebuild the Lower 9th Ward in New Orleans, which got hit badly by Hurricane Katrina. In addition to being a very worthy cause, there is a video of Brad posted on that site in which he a) wears that newsboy hat of his and b) is simultaneously screamingly hot and all CARING about HUMANITY and stuff, which is really hard for me to resist. And! Since I'm already going all parenthetical on you here, do you think it's possible that Lindsay Lohan could possibly see the success Brad has had selling his hats and start selling a line of leggings to benefit something she really cares about? Like...the care and upkeep of Kitson or something? Here's hoping.)

What was I talking about? Ah, yes -- Brad and Angie and Brad's lush head of hair and luxurious display of gray-toned checks:

I don't know.  There's something about this suit that squeals, "sexy English professor who will peer at you intently as he takes off his glasses and mutters something like,  'Your understanding of Yeats is unparalleled.  I never thought to find such a brilliant mind in such a beautiful woman. God, this is so unprofessional of me -- SO WRONG -- yet I MUST KISS YOU,' and then you guys run off to Capri, where he writes things and you do a lot of standing on the balcony in glamourous tunics drinking Kir Royales whilst being flatteringly backlit." I can't resist that. I LOVE Kir Royales.

As for Angelina, while she often wears black, I also suspect that her look could be a preview of the It Wouldn't Be Right To Be All Wildly Gussied Up At An Event During The Writers Strike epidemic that may currently be sweeping closets all over Hollywood.  Jewel-toned cocktail frocks languish in closets throughout the 310! There is a mad run on somber dresses and black shoes! Starlets compete to look The Most Seriously Appropriate! And I guess that could be fun, too. You just know Bai Ling will show up somewhere in a nun's habit, and everyone wins when that happens.

There's a lot I don't understand about Alicia Keys. Like, say, why I am so sick of all her songs, or why she's on the cover of Entertainment Weekly and I still can't muster up the energy to read anything more than the headline on her story before I flip ahead to the big ol' dishy piece on Gossip Girl (although I'll grant that last one probably says a lot more about me than it does about Alicia, and parenthetically, if that show would just give in already and hire Joan Collins to be some kind of grande dame of English society trying to infiltrate the Upper East -- possibly as man-whore Chuck's unexpectedly British grandmother -- I would die happy).

Chiefly, though, I don't understand why Alicia would decide to change out of this:

[Photo: Splash News]

To this:

Listen, we all know Beyonce is bodacious -- or bootylicious, if you want to get into quoting Destiny's Child, which I'm sure Those Other Two Girls would appreciate since otherwise they're not getting a tremendous amount of love these days. And I remain eternally pleased that, rather than keep to the Dreamgirls-era stories of "How Beyonce Gave Up Fried Chicken" and "Beyonce's Sexy New Body," Miss B has in fact put the ten pounds back on and returned to her sexy OLD body, because she is not mental, and thereby understands that a life without fried chicken is not a life anyone should have to lead.

Still: Why satin, B?

This woman should look glorious in everything, all the time, and instead she gravitates toward the kind of grandiose satiny confections that end up buying property and building a mansion on the trashy side of divalicious. Also, Beyonce, you're all lovely and curvy, so don't detract from that by wearing a dress that bunches and pulls like it's a size too small an your mom struggled to sew you into it an hour ago, and told you not to DARE drink or eat anything, or else GOOD LUCK GOING TO THE BATHROOM.

Not to mention that the poor, brave halter strap is doing heroic work up there. I hope she's encouraging it with a lot of compliments and other positive reinforcement, because the second it feels bitter and taken for granted, it's going to pop and then the club won't be the only thing that's bouncin', bouncin'. (You're welcome AGAIN, Those Other Two Girls.)(Edited to add that, apparently, they won't be thanking me because the club is "jumpin', jumpin," which is a whole different chestal-region issue indeed. Oh well. You get the point: They're going to fall out of there, and I don't like Destiny's Child.)

Apparently sartorial tragedy runs in the family -- no surprise since mama Tina Knowles fancies herself a designer and stylist. Check out what that other forgotten girl, Beyonce's sister Solange, decided to wear:

Oh my god, Rihanna:

I'm pretty sure this is...supposed to be layered over something. Like an actual shirt, say.  In a way, I have to commend you for going all-out with your theme here (apparently, it is Clothing Items Which Are Missing Whole, Vital Pieces of Themselves LIKE FINGERS Or A THIRD OF YOUR BOOBS) and I appreciate how fresh and relaxed your hair and make-up is, but...okay, listen. I'm going to cut the complimentary crap for a sec. Sure, you're cute and young and have a huge hit song and are probably now richer than God, but all that means that you have FAR MORE resources than the rest of us schmoes (like money, and advisors, and the best reflective surfaces said money can buy and the best handypersons available to hang them) , and, ergo, should not find yourself out in public with a quasi-vest non-shirt that comes complete with clear plastic straps designed to prevent your nipples from making a desperate run for it.