Oscars

That's right, Aniston, prepare to be shocked and amazed: We totally dug this dress on you.

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It's not black! It's not plain! It's downright glittery! It's completely flattering! And frankly, you have every right to look happy, since you stood up there in front of Brangelina -- knowing full well that the entire time you and Jack Black did your comedy bit, the telecast directors would be squawking about cutting to as many shots of them staring up at you as possible -- and you nailed it gracefully and as if nobody in the room had ever divorced you and then knocked up the world's most beautiful woman two times. It's a shame you're dating kind of a douche. A funny douche, and a personable one, sure, but still, isn't it a tad fishy that John Mayer was supposedly asking for "space" and "breathing room" and other commitment-phobe cliches about a week or two ago, then conveniently decided to be all over you at the post-parties for the Academy Awards? Although maybe you see right through it. Maybe you wanted it that way -- seriously, bring a date who appears smitten with your yoga-sculpted hot ass, just in case you bump into Angelina at the bar. Maybe you are a genius. Regardless, you looked gorgeous, so bask in the glow of our collective affection and then go find a nicer, more reliable boy toy that you are not in danger of needing to enroll in Tool Academy. That Zachary Levi is cute, AND tall. John Stamos is single -- who doesn't love Uncle Jesse? Ben Roethlisberger needs a nice lady friend to remind him about wearing helmets on his motorcycle. See? There are options.

For some reason -- I cannot quite put my finger on why -- I feel strongly that this outfit is merely fair.

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It's neither hideous nor magical on Kate -- simply average. The fix, I think, might be simple: letting her hair down so she looks less like a milkmaid, and then applying some actual makeup to her face. There have been great, monumental advances recently in this arena. For instance, they make this great stuff now called "lip gloss," which you can put on your mouth to give it a color that doesn't match the tone of your skin, and there's also these weird pencil things named "eye liner" that you can use with this sort of pigmented shadow-stuff that goes on your lids. You can even use a giant brush to put stuff on your cheeks to make it look as if you are blushing naturally. I know it sounds like a crazy, brave new world -- like we just got dropped into an episode of The Jetsons -- but it's all real, and it's all happening. Somebody please take her hand and show her the way to Sephora.

I'm sure Melissa George is thrilled and relieved now that she's away from the rat's nest of gossip and dead-fiance-macking nonsense that is Grey's Anatomy.

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But I question the wisdom of picking a dress that expressed the "floating on cloud nine" concept quite so literally.

So, if I'd had a dollar for every time I turned to Heather last night and shrugged and said, "I think I need to see a picture," we wouldn't have to sell advertising anymore. I could NOT make up my mind about anything. OR get a decent look at many of the dresses, it felt like. (In part, I think, because both E! and TV Guide had like no room on the red carpet to get their camera back far enough for a full body shot of anyone. TV Guide, in particular, had their camera, like, perched on the top of Lisa Rinna's head.) So I almost feel like this is the first time I'm getting a real look at Tomei's frock:

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I....like it? I think. Maybe. I mean, sure: The bottom looks like a series of very involved cocktail napkins, as spread out over a bar. (In fact, we actually had a reader email us during the red carpet to bemoan the fact that Tomei's dress was giving her flashbacks to a time when she worked at a restaurant as a napkin wrangler, and I can see how this would give such a girl the vapors. I once worked at an insurance brokerage and if someone showed up on the red carpet wearing a liability waiver as a hat, I would probably have a breakdown.) But at least it's sort of interesting and it's not like the napkins are all waving around her face in a distracting and crazy fashion. In fact, I think my biggest complaint is that the one strap....is almost too big to even be called a strap. And yet it's obviously not a sleeve. It's a...slrap. Her slrap feels a bit WIDE to me. I keep staring at it and trying to decide if I would like it better were it less slrap-like and more strap-like, or if I would just chop it off and make the whole kit and kaboodle strapless (and slrapless). Oh, what to do, what to do....?

 
"Damn it."

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"This was a mistake. Freaking Hasselbeck is never going to let me live this down."
I actually like this better now than I did when I first saw it last night:

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When Freida Pinto -- whom I love, and whose shiny hair I covet madly -- first appeared on E!, Heather and I both gasped in horror. The whole thing felt so old lady. Kind of mother-of-the-bride. A rather dramatic MotB, to be sure, but still. You know: lacy sleeve, quasi-BeDazzlement, the hint of tulle. It all seemed a little too close to Jordon almonds and place cards. In fact, in our tizzy of dismay, we may have confabulated a story we had both thought we read, in which we allegedly learned Andre Leon Talley had taken Freida under his wings and taken her to Oscar de la Renta, a la Jennifer Hudson. There was a lot of hand-wringing over how, as much as we love ALT and his custom-made man-furs and glittery caps, he has become THE ANGEL OF RED CARPET DEATH for first-time Oscar-going starlets and how could he do this to her after what happened to Jennifer Hudson and The Bolero of Doom and why, God, WHY WHY GOD WHY? And then Freida explained that the dress was Galliano and we both started to think that maybe we dreamed the whole ALT thing in a Fashion Week/Oscar Night fever, and we ate some dip and calmed down. And this morning, I am considerably less alarmed. In fact, after a good night's sleep, I can recognize that I like the color quite a lot. And there is something vaguely sari-esque about it, which is kind of brilliant. And yet...and yet. And yet I still wish she had worn something younger. I do. I have decided.


February 23, 2009

Oscar Fug Carpet: SWINTON

The small mercy: SWINTON is at least wearing lipstick, to prevent her looking like a zombie.

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The larger mercy: SWINTON, period. Last year she went with the garbage-bag caftan; now, it's her very best funeral sarong and what I think may be a summer poncho she turned into a blouse with the aid of a strategically placed hair elastic.

Sure, okay, she could have added a lei made of Creme Eggs and a blazer woven from porcupine quills, but we have plenty of time for her to rise up the bonkers scale. We're only in the first third of 2009. Isaac Mizrahi just sent handbag hats down the runway, so she's probably just working up to the day when she'll swan into a premiere at Cannes and start stuffing people's business cards into her millinery before kneeling in front of the valet so he can find her wallet. Believe.
February 23, 2009

Oscar Fug Carpet: Heidi Klum

I hate to step on Tim Gunn's lines, but this IS a whole lot of look. Also, I'm concerned. Gather round:

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Klum, of course, is one of those women who can get away with wearing a lot of things, and I admire her work on behalf of heart disease in women (which is why she's wearing red), but this looks a bit...overworked, shall we say? It's kind of like what would happen if origami had a baby with those aluminum foil swans they wrap your leftovers in at various restaurants. And then got dunked in a vat of nail polish. And took a drunken lap through the accessories department at Excessive R Us.  And then...okay, I guess that's it. But isn't that enough? Or, rather, too much? I thought so. Thank you. Carry on!
February 23, 2009

Well Played, Viola Davis

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VIOLA DAVIS: I am so excited. I can't believe I'm here!

DUDE BEHIND VIOLA DAVIS: Holy cats. That woman is FOXY.

VIOLA: I had twelve minutes on the movie screen and my nose was totally running for at least half of it! But I still got nominated, because I kind of stole the hell out of that scene from Meryl Streep!

DBVD: I could play her like a viola, if you get my meaning. She could come join my string quartet, if you hear my drift.

VIOLA: I'm 43 years old and I never thought this time would come, but it did!

DBVD: She's 43?!?!? HOT DAMN. Shoot, somehow that makes her even finer. I cannot stop checking out her ass. I may need to Twitter her, if you know what I'm saying.

VIOLA: I am going to WORK THIS, fools! Drink it in, but it won't be your only sip!

DBVD: Sip? Why, I could tap that entire cask of finest vino and chug it in two minutes, if you smell what I'm steppin' in, succulent lady!

VIOLA: 'Cause, see, I have a rockin' bod and a killer face, this dress rules on me, and I don't look a day over 35. So after my big nomination, I am NOT going to disappear into the ether or do Botox ads like that Virginia Madsen person. Hell no, Hollywood. I am here to STAY. GET READY TO LOVE ME, Y'ALL!

DBVD: Yeeeeeah, baby, that's right -- I already love you. I could love you all night. Maybe even until sometime in the early morning, before I have to sneak back home and get in bed just in case my mother checks on me and notices I put a blow-up toy under the covers. Which.... shoot, my curfew is in fifteen minutes. At least this will make the AWESOMEST Facebook status update EVER.
THANKS FOR MAKING THE EFFORT, HOFFMAN:

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Seriously, it's THE OSCARS. You're not running down to the corner store for a gallon of milk and the racing form. You're not skiing. You are not, presumably, heading off to rob a bank after the ceremony wraps. I know this year must have been bittersweet for Supporting Actor nominees. They all knew they would never beat Ledger, and if they were disappointed about that, they then probably felt like assholes for feeling disappointed and then there was a whole big emotional spiral and I get that, but dude: a knit cap? To the Oscars? REALLY? Things are that bad? I heard a rumor that you've got dreadlocks for some role you're doing, but...seriously? A knit cap? SERIOUSLY? You couldn't have just rocked the dreads? Otherwise, for real, A FEDORA would have been a better choice. I would have accepted a BERET before this cap. You could have talked me into A SOMBRERO. But this? Honey. No.

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