Oscars

Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you Mandy Moore, apparently starring in a Darren Aronofsky follow-up film entitled, Requiem for a Prom:


[Photo courtesyof Daily Celeb]

I believe this dress is, as captured above, in the act of making a citizen's arrest of Mandy Moore for ever putting it on in the first place. It looks to be clamping down on her.

Unless she intended to come dressed as a big black garter, in which case she'd better watch out, or one of the many women who showed up to the Oscar parties in white gowns will pick her up and hurl her at some tuxedo-clad gentlemen.


[Photo courtesy of Daily Celeb.]

PARIS: Hey, Mrs. Meister. You look hott. Squished boobs are hott.

NICKY: Thanks, P, you bitch. You look... gold. Both your skin and your dress.

PARIS: Yeah. Tanning is hott. Orange really works for you, too. Anyway, the dress I wanted, I couldn't get, because the number was in my Sidekick and all these total, like, average people were calling the designer and asking for specially made, like, overalls and stuff. Overalls are hott, though.

NICKY: Where did you get it?

PARIS: It's an old dress of Mom's. Hand-me-downs are hott.

NICKY: Call it "vintage." That plays better. And get it tailored next time so it actually sort of fits and doesn't make you look matronly.

PARIS: I couldn't. Those Internet, like, thief-people posted a message I wrote about Mom's seamstress. Something about, "Tell spinster crotchrag she didnt take up miniskirt enuf -- not hott,'" or something, I don't know, but that skirt is going to be hott.

NICKY: Whatever. I have to go file a police report about the guy who mugged me on my way here.

PARIS: Don't. Knife-Attack Couture is hott.

NICKY: You're hott.

PARIS: I know.


[Photo courtesy of Daily Celeb.]

Mischa Barton seems not to realize that when you're going to an Oscar party, you don't have to dress like Oscar's sister. Although maybe she got the dress from the gift bag -- it certainly looks like the kind of gold cellophane wrap that would line a vat of expensive freebies.

Mischa's sister, incidentally, looks amusingly humiliated.

There are times in a fugger's life when she is rendered speechless. When everything she tries to write can't do justice to what inanities, spurred by crazy pills and possibly absinthe, are marching through the head of a celebrity.

This is one of those times.


[Photos courtesy of Daily Celeb.]

I can only assume that, when she got wind that Usher was attending the Oscars, Stephanie Seymour's post-show orgy radar went, "Ping!" And so she watched a few episodes of Dynasty, crafted a curiously frump-ho Linda Evans tribute negligee -- in this case, "negligent lingerie" -- and marched that pendulous rack right up to him to see if he needed a sixteenth for the sex train.

And, to let him check out the caboose:

Thora Birch swung by an Oscar party on her way home from work at the insurance company.

THORA! Seriously? YOUR HAIR HAS GOT TO GO. You look like you wash it with undiluted chlorine.  Hot oil treatment! A trim! AN ACTUAL HAIRDRESSER. These are all things you need to look into. Please.




[Photos courtesy of Daily Celeb]

Somebody please tell Marley Shelton that the B in "B-list" doesn't stand for, "Bird, exotic." Then maybe she'll stop dressing like one in the hope of vaulting herself up the celebrity food chain.


[Photo courtesy of Daily Celeb.]

STOP TANNING, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD. People aren't supposed to look like that. I don't care if it's spray-on or sun-seared -- she's going to look like a pair of old boots when she's older. God. What's wrong with being flesh-colored?


[Photo courtesy of Daily Celeb.]

After her nip-slip, Bai Ling may merely have wanted to be safe in the knowledge that her girls were under control when she chose this dress. But I can't help wishing that she could find a way to cover herself without opting for a billowing, barely tailored striped sheath that looks like a Victoria's Secret shopping bag as reconceived by Lance Armstrong's rubber-bracelet people.

Is she hiding Courtney Peldon in there? There's certainly enough room.

February 28, 2005

Oscar Fugshion: Beyonce

Oh, sweet LORD, this redefines the phrase "dripping with diamonds":

That is a lot of ice Beyonce is wearing around her neck. That is Antarctica in necklace form. I'm surprised Star Jones, who wouldn't shut up about how "Mrs. Reynolds" was clad in $500,000 in jewels, didn't run up on stage and punch Beyonce in the face for outblinging her. I really hope this absurdity puts a cork in everyone's quest to look like the most expensive mannequin in the room.

Somewhere, a rapper has died of jealousy.


[Photo courtesy of Daily Celeb.]

It seems Alexis Bledel is only now wandering back from Mardi Gras. Her face says, "Please don't ask me what I did to get iridescent beads. You really, really don't want to know. God, I need some Advil and a nap."

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