MTV Movie Awards

Kristen Stewart makes me crabby. I know, I know, many of you think that making me crabby must be about as difficult as getting a Hills girl to nod vacantly while making marginal eye contact with something in the middle distance.  But seriously, come on, kid:

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REALLY? Because the dress actually works a bit with the punk-princess sensibility she tries to work sometimes, but wouldn't this be a hundred times hotter -- yet STILL edgy -- with, say, Ashley Tisdale's shoes here? And did I really just tell Kristen Stewart to learn something from one of the stars of High School Musical? YES. I DID. Do you see what the lazy Converse have done to me? It would be fine if she were on set, and they were shooting angsty close-ups about vampiric love woes and the trouble with having lots of supernatural creatures with pointy teeth who are so very obsessed with you, and Kristen's feet hurt so she ditched her real shoes for something more comfortable to wear while just standing around not being seen from the waist down. But guess what? THIS IS NOT ONE OF THOSE TIMES.

Of course, then she went and charmed me a little by trying to exit the MTV stage and completely bumbling, then dropping, her popcorn statuette. And by acknowledging it in a sweetly awkward way, while also not appearing to care that part of it may have broken. So it all just made me wish MORE that she would respect the power of a great shoe.

Edited to add: I also just noticed that the tags on this entry accidentally make a full sentence: "SIGH, Twilight, you couldn't try a bit harder?" It's true on SO MANY LEVELS, people. So many.

Edited again to add: And if it's true she sprained her ankle (as is apparently rumored) and couldn't wear heels, well, there are about a hundred thousand better options than Converse for this outfit and occasion -- and if she was well enough to go in the first place and stand around on her ankle, she probably would've been fine in whatever arch support a cute pair of flats gave her. And also, she didn't seem to be limping. And also, unless she really had a doctor's note demanding the sneakers, I reiterate the aforementioned re: pursuing flats. Because it can't be said enough. 

In case our coverage today wasn't enough immersion in MTV for you, or you prefer your quips and snarkings in slideshow form, we awarded a dozen looks our own facetious fashion prizes from the evening -- some we like, most we didn't, and a mix of stuff we've fugged and stuff we haven't.

"It's beyond us why she's clad like she just finished packing brownies into the minivan for the Little League bake sale."

About whom did we say that? Well, naturally, I'm not going to tell you -- click here to view the slideshow and join in the comments.
I'm not sure why this outfit stuck in my craw so much -- or what a craw even is, or why it's so hard to get things out of it, or what else might be in there that I've been missing for a while (seriously, is that where my keys are? Or that jar of Jif I'm pretty sure I bought last week but which is nowhere to be found? Because if my craw is holding out on me then SO HELP ME GOD it will pay).

Anyway: Bring on the angry Twilight mob with their torches, because for whatever reason, this bugs me.

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I THINK it's because if I were to photoshop Dana Delany's face onto this picture and tell you she stopped by on her way to a Desperate Housewives promotional luncheon and polo match, you probably would believe me. Okay, in part that's because you trust us, and we thank you for that, but it's also because there is something sort of primly mature about the dress and the giant hair. Not in an altogether BAD way, but just as if Ashley ganked an entire ensemble intended for someone else. Someone who likes to pack a little cleavage when she goes to Sunday Mass. A church cougar, if you will.

Or am I insane? I mean, she DOES also have a touch of the drunkface, which I suppose makes it all a bit more MTV.

Dear Famewhores,

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Just go ahead and do a backbend on the red carpet and get it over with. God.

Love,

Jessica

PS: I liked that dress better on my Peaches and Cream Barbie.


Why so coy, Leighton?

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You look like you have a secret. A naughty, naughty secret. What could that be about? The top/front of your dress is sort of interesting and cool. But that wouldn't provoke such a self-amused little smirk. Could it possibly have something to do with the fact that there exist almost NO pictures of your backside at this event? Were you scuttling about the Movie Awards like a chic little crab? Have you started to grow a tail? What is happening here, dear B?

On first blush, I said of this outfit, "WHOA." Eloquent, right? But seriously, look at this photo:

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There is a LOT going on with Ms. Monique Coleman here, with the hair and the aluminum foil and the black tutu, and for a second I was overwhelmed.

But... come on, I am not made of stone. She looks like she's having such a good time, in that awesomely costumey and ridiculous Center Stage final performance way, where in two seconds someone will pan away from her and then pan back and she'll be in head-to-toe crimson with different eye makeup and streamers in her hair and then she'd start twirling while all the eligible dudes present tried to get her attention by doing a lot of jumping. And who wouldn't want to see THAT in real life? Not to mention that Monique's new afro is kind of sassy. It reminds me of when Tyra Banks made F'ing Yaya get one on Cycle 3 of ANTM, and it was so huge and fantastic and full of personality and RESPEITO that F'ing Yaya totally rocked it all the way to the finals and enticed Tyra to show up to one judging in a giant 'fro of her own that ALSO looked kind of glorious and I swear to God I had some serious Sass Envy that day.

So in sum: Cheap-looking prom shoes aside, I cherish the spirit of fun this look embodies. But I'm still putting it up to a vote, because I realize my reaction may have a lot to do with my taste in TV and my own personal affection for whimsy and possibly even the fact that I had a really tasty chicken-parm sandwich this weekend that put me in a really good mood for, like, two days. Seriously. Sandwiches are powerful.

Rumer Willis always presents me with such a quandary. I feel like any compliment I give her is almost GRUDGING, like, "She looks good... FOR HER," when in fact at this point I am rooting for her to hit it out of the proverbial ball park so that I can cross her off my list of worries.

But when she goes and does stuff like this, it makes it so hard.

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I'd be curious to see the dress on someone else -- someone slightly less, well, awkward -- to see how I feel about it for real, but my first thought was: Wow, she is wearing a stained-glass window somebody designed based on a blackjack table. And her hair is all mussed and sweaty as if she had been sitting at said blackjack table for 18 hours straight, drinking free vodka tonics and losing a boatload of cash that she can't win back again. I can smell the casino on her. I can't believe I'm saying this, but... can we get Rachel Zoe on this case, please? Say what you will about that one -- and we have, and will continue to -- but she usually knows what she's doing, whereas clearly Rumer does not.

On the plus side, this dress works better in black and white than it did when Miley Cyrus wore something similar:

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Sure, she looks like something from the Decorative Arts section of the Met -- she's a vase! she's an urn! she's a delicately needlepointed chair! -- but at least she's a delicately needlepointed chair with great legs. Surely this can be salvaged! Let's see the back!

So, on her Twitter yesterday, LC here said that the dress she was supposed to wear to the MTV Movie Awards came back from the tailor and didn't fit. I don't know if she managed to make it work, or if this was something she'd held in reserve just in case of tailoring emergencies, or what happened. Either way, I think we can all agree that something isn't quite right:

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I've been looking at this for twenty minutes and I am not quite sure how I'd fix it. For me, the ruffly skirt bit reminds me a bit of topiary -- like this is the dress version of a box hedge. And while box hedges are lovely in your garden, they are not necessarily flattering on one's body. If I could wave my magic de-fugging wand over Miss Lauren (last night WAS her final appearance on The Hills, so it seems like she deserves some kind of going-away present), I suspect I would keep this as it is, but find a way to make the skirt look less SQUARE. Because, CONCEPTUALLY, it's sort of fun and flirty, but in practice she looks like she's brought her own tuffet to the party. But hit me with your best shot -- what would you do to fix it?

As always, our usual rules about comments apply: please do continue to keep them clean, on topic, and generally polite. So far, our experiment in occasional commenting has been awesome, so thank you! Now, have at it:

I think Simon Cowell is a great judge on American Idol. But I'm beginning to suspect he is a lousy boyfriend.

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Half the advantage of dating him -- you know, aside from private jets, and the fact that he will go with you to the local beauty supply store on a Saturday afternoon (which I once witnessed them doing together) -- should be the brutal honesty. You know, the idea that if you so much as brushed the fabric of this jumpsuit with your elbow, he would roll his eyes and say, "I'm gonna be honest with you: That is absolutely terrible," or maybe, "If that's what you're gonna wear, then you'd better pack your bags tonight, because that's not going to be enough to keep you in any competition except for Survivor: M.C. Hammer's Harem." So either Terri Seymour made the mistake of not consulting him here, in which case she needs to install a videoconferencing terminal in her closet for when he's out of town, or Simon was only PRETENDING he could see her from behind the piles of "Bleeding Love" profits he was counting on the bed -- in which case, he had better hope that wall of Benjamins is whirling-stiletto-proof.

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