I'm going to stop writing photo titles now because it's getting out of hand.
I'm going to stop writing photo titles now because it's getting out of hand.
Perfection, thy name is carefully painted man strands of ombre splendor.
Between the hair (that HAIR) and the white jacket/red bow tie, Leto looks like a caterer in HEAVEN serving crust-less half-sandwiches of world peace.
I may update this post with more comprehensive Oscar fashion commentary IF I can get myself to stop cruising internet black markets for LetoHair sweaters.
The Budweiser "Puppy Love" Commercial, embedded below, is regarded by many as the best commercial of the 2014 Superbowl. Please watch it if you haven't already:
Reviews were universally positive.
"Never mind that it aired with just two minutes left in a dog of a game," USA Today writes, the ad "about a spunky puppy who is adopted but keeps coming back home to the Clydesdale horse it loves" scored highest with the newspaper's online audience of 6,272 voters.
The commercial, which Budweiser had put online last week, had been a pregame favorite to win viewers' hearts. After all, a similar spot won last year's Ad Meter.
. . . etc etc. Which is cool, except the commercial is a completely messed up tale of one man's personal tragedy. In order to understand this, you simply have to view the commercial without the scenes with the puppy and horse together--in other word's, from a human point of view.
Let's take a look.
So. We've done the good and the bad; time for the in-betweens.
She looks frozen in time, and I mean that in the good way and the bad way. Jennifer mayyyyy have accepted the Gwyneth Paltrowian deal with the devil where you can stop aging if you also arrest your personal sense of style at the same point in time. (Fortunately for Jen, she has a much more timeless sensibility than Gwyneth does.)
People loved this, but it just wasn't my bag. I know I'm in the minority, and I can't even really explain why I don't like it (some kind of reptilian/Flintstonian vibe I can't quite articulate), but every now and then, you disagree with one of the universal faves. This was one of those times.
While I'm completely losing you, I'll go ahead and throw it out there that I didn't love Jennifer's look. I know. Don't murder me. I like her. And it was a big night in a big year for J-Law. Good for her. However, neither the hair nor the dress felt spectacular to me. They weren't bad--just not my favorite look of hers. But there's no denying she was queen of the night.
SPECIAL ACHIEVEMENT AWARD: BRADLEY COOPER'S MOM
So that's that. Your comments are, per ALWAYS AND FOREVER, welcomed.
Continued from Part 1
We've discussed the winners. Time for . . .
Uh, yeah, I hate Anne Hathaway, and yeah, it's just personal. Sorry. Them's the breaks. Regardless, this was a no. In her red carpet interview, Anne joked that the (backless) dress was "business in the front; party in the back." A great follow-up question would have been to ask what business emphasizes awkwardly drawing everyone's eyes to your nipples all night long/forever.
Anyway. Didn't like the color, didn't like the neckline/necklace, still don't like Anne.
I will admit that this is the best-case scenario for what you get when you say "Beetlejuice" three times.
Helen Hunt made a statement by wearing a gown from the H&M Conscious Collection. Appreciate the idea behind it, but, uh, it doesn't look good. I totally emphathize, though, because everything I have ever bought from H&M has ended up fitting improperly and wrinkling instantaneously.
This is also the first of several high buns I hated.
Brandi Glanville (Real Housewives of Beverly Hills)
OK, so a D-lister dressing badly for attention is the oldest trick in the red carpet book, but what can I say? I like low-hanging fruit. It is, at least, much better than fruit that has been awkwardly smushed upwards at a painful angle . . .
K-Stew actually ended up on a lot of best-dressed lists with this, but C'MAN. She showed up on crutches, her hair was a mess, she glowered through her turn presenting and had a huge bruise on her arm. So yeah, nice dress, but I'm over this low-energy sourpuss and it's gonna take way more than White Swan to change that.
This was a bit predictable--it echoed some of her recent looks--and the hair is approaching the preliminary Bride of Frankenstein warning zone. When you combine that with the automatic 5 point SO SICK OF LES MIS deduction I factored in, it's straight to the bottom for Ms. Seyfried.
Next up: Part 3
When I say the Oscars got off to a bad start last night, I am actually just talking (Anne Hathaway style) about myself.
(Yeah--best to just open up with my stance on the Great Anne Hathaway Debate. Do not like.)
Anyway, I had crucially burned some popcorn on my stove immediately prior to the telecast, and as I ran through the house opening windows, turning on fans, clearing smoke, and eventually re-popping popcorn (because I'm not a QUITTER who would abandon her plan for a completely nutrition-less dinner at the first sign of a setback), I caught only snippets of the opening monologue. So for that first 15 minutes or so, I thought my questions (huh? is that William Shatner? Why is Seth McFarlane so obsessed with whether he is a bad host? Are they singing an entire song about boobs?) all had perfectly logical answers that I was just missing because I was only catching bits and pieces from the giant burnt popcorn kernel that was my kitchen.
WELL. I got my act together by 8:45 PM; the show never did. As Richard Rushfield articulates nicely here, the 2013 Oscars were odd, awkward, and tonally schizophrenic: dramatic musical numbers tied together by an ever-thinning thread of Desperate Seth McFarlane.
And that's really all I have to say about the show in general. Let's get to the winners, losers, and, the in-betweeners.
Jessica Chastain is an inspiration to all smart and classy people who look like mermaids and just wonder if they will amount to anything(@laurenmc18) February 25, 2013
*Except for the BUNS, which we will GET TO LATER
Made good on what proved to be a hit-or-miss night for metallics. The cutout is totally what January Jones wishes she was pulling off when she wears kooky stuff that doesn't quite work this well.
Sally is too cute, and I loved this. Great dress, great hair.
PUPPY PURSE! I was obvs enchanted by Quvenzhané's accessory of choice; I have since learned that this is kind of her thing and she has worn different ones to each major awards show. Now you know how to make an absolutely endearing nine-year-old kid even more endearing.
Won an Oscar, worked the stage, and eschewed her usual kooky/frumpy looks in favor of something a bit more glamorous--her best award show look yet. Nitpick: don't like the hair. MUCH preferred it down during her performance.
Jennifer and Ben
Loved Jen's dress, makeup, hair, AND jewelry. My initial reaction was that she could have done more dramatic makeup, but in retrospect, this was perfect--especially considering it was Ben's night and not hers.
Speaking of which, love the beard on Director Ben.
Count me among the fans of this color/style. The metallic accent was in keeping with the trend of the night, so the coral color didn't seem too out there. Strong showing.
Up next: Part 2.
I'm lacking the time to put together a proper recap today, but I just can't miss the opportunity to praise some of the delightfully tacky outfits from last night's Grammy red carpet.
The past few rounds of Oscars, Globes, and Emmys have had plenty of looks both beautiful and bad, but tacky is its own, specific breed. Tacky isn't so much about wearing a bad outfit--it's about wearing a jubilantly inappropriate one. Like everyone else knew it was an awards show and you thought it was a Dress Like a Human My Little Pony Contest.
Looking at you, Kate Pierson of the B-a52s. Loooooking at you.
Tacky is never lazy. Tacky takes work. Tacky means spending hours lovingly dying a Rapunzel hair extension in Kool Aid while you wait for your chainmail.com order to arrive. Tacky takes effort.
Tacky is knowing everyone has heard your voice over and over again all year and giving them miles of sheerness and tulle and saying, "HERE'S EVEN MORE ME. YOU'RE WELCOME."
Tacky is the leg slit on the shapeless dress that doesn't even look good with the hair that even looks worse, making it clear that you chose this look not because you liked the designer, but because you like your own bod more than anything that can be made out of mere fabric.
Tacky is Taylor. You know I'm right.
P.S. Tacky is a blog post that uses the T-word 25 times. Sorry I'm not sorry.
(Continued from here.)
I don't have as much to say about these as I did about the bad (criticism just flows much more freely; it's one of my gifts). But for the sake of balance, here's who I liked.
More of the good . . .
That's all. I'm sure I missed some on both sides, and I will blame any oversights on DayQuil haze and the fact that all day I have been approximately this.