Oscars

First, I tried addressing Kate Winslet and Reese Witherspoon's dresses separately, since they're not exactly identical, but I kept wanting to say similar things about them. Both gowns have in common the concept of a basic idea embellished with black overlays, and both of them have me firmly on the fence. Which is not a comfortable place to be. Too many splinters. So while Intern George fetches some iodine and the tweezers, let's first take a look at Kate's choice:

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I really like the bluish-gunmetal color. But with the hair and what she appears to imagine is her regal bearing, it all just seems a bit OLD to me. Or rather, mature. Like she is planning to get together with Carolina Herrera and Princess Anne after the Oscars for a brandy. The other issue is that neckline. The pleating over her left boob is lovely, but there is something funky happening under the shoulder strap -- almost like there is a shoulder pad stuck in there acting as a nipple shield. And finally, the front overlay feels a bit randomly glued to the waistband. Adding up those elements and the fact that the back is black satin, it's just... a lot. Kind of like a valentine made by a very depressed fourth-grader, who is pretty sure that the little red-headed girl is never going to like him if he can't even kick a football without landing flat on his back. I wanted Kate Winslet to embrace being young and hot, as opposed to taking the whole Greatest Actress Of Her Generation thing so seriously that she's aging herself into some kind of Tinseltown monarch.

And then there's Reese:

Only Sharon Stone could prompt the comment, "Sharon Stone looks great, even if she is essentially topless":

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It's Sharon Stone. OF COURSE she is essentially topless and also kind of looks great. If I were Sharon Stone, I suspect I would wear this sort of thing everywhere -- to Hurry Curry for chicken tikka, to the corner store to pick up FroYo, to the dry cleaners to pick up all my other sheer gowns. And when people were all, like, "dude, I can see your nips," I would be all, "I AM SHARON STONE," and they would be, "oh. You have a point," and then I would sweep out to go pick up my dragon at the groomers. I sort of wish I could experience that. You know, in a Being John Malkovich kind of way. I think I'd like to experience Being Sharon Stone. Can you imagine? For one thing, you'd probably spend ten minutes just crossing and uncrossing your legs and giggling. Then you'd call Michael Douglas's house and hang up when CZJ answered. The possiblities are really kind of endless.
I keep imagining how I would address this were I a character on The Hills:

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JESSICA: [long, blank, unblinking stare]

LC: Hey.

JESSICA: Hey.

LC: So....

JESSICA: [long, blank, unblinking stare]

LC: [long, blank, unblinking stare]

JESSICA: How do you feel about that thing that happened with that person?

LC: [tears begin to fall. Her mascara runs...beautifully] I just want us to be friends!

JESSICA: I know. It's so hard. What are you going to do?

LC: I don't know.

JESSICA: Your hair looks depressed.

LC: [long, blank, unblinking stare]

JESSICA: And your skirt is uncharacteristically short. Are you okay?

LC: No! I'm really upset, Jessica! I have relationship problems! Are you NEW?

JESSICA: [long, blank, unblinking stare].

AND SCENE.

So, THIS didn't go according to plan:

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I assume the plan was to look like a glorious mermaid -- a delicious siren! -- and not like a woman who'd actually been dredged up from the bottom of the ocean. If I've got that reversed, though...well, mission accomplished.

Having just seen Rose Byrne looking perfectly happy at rag & bone's show during Fashion Week, I can't figure out why she always seems to be dying inside whenever the cameras are trained on her. It's possible that she's just secretly in love with Jimmy Fallon, with whom she arm-wrestled and giggled at in the front row, and whenever she's not in his orbit her soul feels cracked and broken.

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But I guess she could just be depressed that everyone keeps checking his or her makeup in her crotch. I imagine the last thing you want is for Mickey Rourke to see himself in your nethers.

Rumor has it that Ms Marion here has appeared on several Worst Dressed lists, and I don't know, you guys. I kind of fell in love with her at the last Oscars and I might STILL be in love with her.

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It's pretty! Of course, I historically: (a) love black and blue together, (b) have a secret weakness for sequins (that is, in fact, the name of my autobiography: A Secret Weakness for Sequins: Not Without My Paillettes; The Jessica Morgan Story), and (c) I think she's pretty, so I'm biased. I'm terribly, terribly biased. Because I might love it. Or I might have some kind of fever. The kind that needs more cowbell, obviously. But there's not a cowbell to be had in my apartment right now, so I probably need your help.

A lot of ladies who wore long trains changed their dresses between the Oscar telecast and the parties. Since she wasn't wearing one, I can't figure out why Jessica Biel swapped her Prada for Oscar de la Renta -- unless she, too, realized that wan nuptial sack was fashion narcolepsy, or she has a storied history of dumping caviar and red wine down the front of her dress at industry fetes.

Here's what she ended the night wearing:

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All that loud shiny satin is a little achy on the eyes, and I don't like the lines of the skirt. And would it have killed her to fix the hair? THE HAIR. STILL. KILLS ME. It's TERRIBLE. Dry shampoo.  A brush and a ponytail. Philip Seymour Hoffman's knit cap. ANY of these, at this point, would've been acceptable solutions to the fact that her hair looks like she was just in the dressing room for three hours pulling sweaters on and off over her head.

But for me, this dress is hugely preferable to the other -- in fact, I'm not sure why she didn't wear this from the get-go. She'd have stood out more on the red carpet, for better or worse (and frankly, she stood out for the worse already, as it was). She would've looked bold, as opposed to boring. And maybe wearing this dress, with the heavier neckline, could've forced her to do something else with her hair to hide the grease factory. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD. She is a GROWN WOMAN. Is it that she wants us all to know she can barely make time for the Oscars, amid the constant stream of sexercise she's getting between the sheets with Justin? Because that's great, kid. We get it. Congratulations. You have afterglow in your hair. Your mother will be so proud.

Um.

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Words fail me. Seriously. I have been looking at this thing for like twenty minutes. It...is not flattering.  I even had one terrible moment when I thought it was BLOOMERS. But it's not. (Right? It's not bloomers. It can't be bloomers. It's just a skirt, right? RIGHT? IT'S JUST A SKIRT.) I know Salma just got married -- mazel tov, Salma! -- but just because she's off the market, it doesn't mean she has to start dressing like a stumpy little Hefty bag. Salma Hayek looking like she's wearing a deflated weather balloon just isn't right.  She's supposed to look glamorous and saucy. Anything else makes me feel like the universe is a bit out of whack.
February 24, 2009

Oscar Fug Carpet: Lisa Rinna

I'm beginning to think -- okay, well, actually, I've suspected this for years, but go with me on this -- that there's no pleasing me when it comes to Lisa Rinna. She'd wear leopard all the time and it annoyed me; she then shook it up with some solids in bright colors, but I couldn't be pleased because she traded it for showing off her Brazilian and other assorted bits, and I am not particularly interested in her private flesh tones.

So she fixed it on Sunday:

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She's wearing a great color that keeps all her groceries in the bag, AND she was just quoted in some magazine as being (correctly) semi-horrified by her own cheek implants, but I still cannot climb aboard. Because, aside from how it looks like much of her face is straining simply to achieve getting her mouth open, can we discus the hair? What is that? Even Ryan Seacrest got rid of his frosted tips a year or so ago. And the style... when I look at it, all I can think of is this:

I really loved the whole yellow dress/red shoes thing several years ago, when Reese Witherspoon did it, but there's something about Dita's look lately that has made her look much older than she actually is. Like, how old do you think this woman is?

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She's only 36. She looks about ten years older, all of a sudden. I think Dita's stringently retro make-up, combined with the shorter, prim hair (the sort that many young women had fifty years ago, but which we're currently accustomed to seeing on our grandma), is something that a very young person can pull off nicely -- because the juxtaposition works -- but as she ages, it starts to look less like a statement and like she's just out of touch, even if that's not actually the case. Also, I think I preferred this dress better in its first iteration as curtains at the Waldorf.

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