And of course in that picture of Camila Alves is a stoned Matthew McConaughey wondering if the tinsel on that foil gold Christmas tree in front of him is smokeable.
At last night’s NYC premiere of Gold (that mining scandal movie where the Texas T-Rex looks like he’s doing low-budget cosplay of Christian Bale in American Hustle), Camila Alves took the title of the movie all the way by covering her body with 5 pounds of tinsel and hundreds of yards of gold fabric. Camila is brave for wearing that ensemble out in NYC, because that top part looks like a golden shower, so I’m surprise that Donald Trump didn’t try to bathe under it.
If Trump’s penthouse apartment and Liberace’s dining room had sloppy, dirty, messy fuck times, the wet spot they left would look like what Camila is wearing. She looks like a new money whore house madam. It’s gaudy! It’s tacky! It’s ugly! I love it!
You know you’re a legend-in-the-making when you roll up to the SAG Awards and serve up a hot slice of red carpet eleganza better than the SAG Awards red carpet itself. I bet the red carpet spent the rest of the night hissing “That bitch stole my look!” to anyone who would listen before finally accepting the fact that Lupita Nyong’o did it better. Bitch color-coordinated her dress to everything around her! That’s commitment.
Yes, technically Lupita’s dress is a typical fancy awards show dress, but it also sort of looks like what I imagine Beetlejuice’s prom date wore to the Netherworld High prom, or a piece of avant-garde Christmas wrapping paper. Lupita’s dress looks like the curtains Maria would use to make power suits for the von Trapp children if they ever remade The Sound of Music and set it in 1984. But more than anything, it reminds me a piece of goth Fruit Stripe gum, and I love it, because I love goths and I love Fruit Stripe gum.
Also, it’s got one of those huge-ass skirts you can sit with your legs wide open in all night and won’t show wine stains, which always gets two ketchup chip crumb-covered thumbs up from a slob like me.
Here’s more of Lupita working it out on the red carpet, as well as Emma Stone (whose shady goth real estate agent dress tried to take out Naomi Watts), a My Little Victoria Pony-looking Lorelei Linklater, Laverne Cox who – as usual – did Beyonce better than Beyonce, and everyone else:
Once again, Anne Hathaway is causing my brain to hurt the special kind of hurt that comes from trying to figure out what the fuck she’s wearing. I should have seen this coming; fashion disasters always come in threes. First it was that next-level tragic DIY-looking star chain glove thing. Then it was that grandmother of the robo-bride dress. Now it’s…I’m not actually sure what this is. A busted two-faced tuna net fungus cover? Sure, that works!
Anne rolled up to the New York City premiere of Interstellar last night looking like she took a spray adhesive shower and rolled around in the LAST CHANCE box thrown into the dumpster behind a Jo-Ann fabrics, but MK tells me she’s actually wearing a very fancy dress by Rodarte. Regardless of whether her dress looks like it cost $1,200 or $12 (that one), here is every thought circling the toilet drain that is my brain while looking at Anne Hathaway’s dress:
1. Anne Hathaway looks like an exquisite corpse drawn by two fishermen, then it came to life The Fly-style
2. Anne Hathaway looks like two casual scarves from Chico’s got into a fight, then fell in love, then started fucking
3. Anne Hathaway looks like Fantine from Les Mis, if Les Mis took place in a post-apocalyptic wasteland run by a gang of fugitive throw pillows
And even though Anne looks like the definition of fug, I can still appreciate that she was brave enough to dress like a damn mess. I will always slow-clap for those who have the courage to say “Fuck it, I’m going to dress like I’ve been snorting bath salts and watching cable access TV all day!”
Here’s more of Jo-Anne Hathaway last night, as well as Jessica Chastain (who always looks like a come-to-life Midge doll) and the Texas T-Rex:
It goes without saying that I have some major problems when it comes to using my brain (I literally forgot my own last name yesterday, for real), so it should surprise absolutely no one that I spent nearly 17 minutes staring at the lower half of Anne Hathaway and wondering what was going on. Is she wearing black granny panties? Or some sort of body suit? Is that dress supposed to be the matronly British lady version of this one? Why did I care? Who knows. All that matters is that I zoomed in so close that the chain-links on her dress began to look like a Magic Eye poster, and I was convinced I saw an eagle soaring majestically through the mountains. It was TRIPPY.
Anne was once again walking the red carpet for that Oscar Winners in Space movie (aka Interstellar), this time in London. Yes, Anne looks like tired farted on exhausted, but you would too if you were wearing a dress that weighs 46 lbs. I don’t know how she’s still standing. She should have asked to be wheeled up the red carpet on a dolly like Hannibal Lecter. Actually, fuck that. If I were Anne, I would have asked them to wheel my ass to the recycling depot so I could trade in my dress for cash. You could probably get at least $27.50 for that dress!
Here’s more of Anne Hathaway serving up some Spencer Gifts pin art thing realness at the UK premiere of Interstellar (grab your magnifying glasses), as well as Jessica Chastain, the stoned armadillo and his wife (who looked like a sexy Agreeable Tiger Moth), and most importantly – MAIH CUL CAYN!
The Los Angeles premiere of Interstellar (aka Gravity 2: Electric Space-aloo) was held last night, and for some reason, Anne Hathaway decided to decorate her right hand with a bunch of jagged metal Krusty Os. NO! I know they’re supposed to be stars, but they seriously look like something that could do a shit-ton of damage. I’m sure many people at the after-party spent the entire night terrified that the DJ would yell “Wave your hands in the air if you just don’t care!“, and prompt her drunk ass to start whipping that thing around like a mace. Wait, do Hollywood premieres even have DJs? I don’t think it would matter; Anne Hathaway strikes me as the type who lives by the mantra “dance like no one is watching, sing like no one asked.”
Then again, Anne could be wearing that angry net of pewter star barnacles (starnacles?) to deter any more journalists from trying to shake her hand. Just because she loves you doesn’t mean she wants your dirty Ebola germs, people!
But as much shade as I’m throwing Annie H for that diamond-encrusted disaster, I legit love it for two reasons:
1. It reminds me of when Charlotte’s 1 million spider babies are born at the end of Charlotte’s Web
2. It’s giving me flashbacks to the mountains of busted-looking Jazzy Jewelry I made as a kid. In fact, I’m pretty sure I made something similar to what’s on Anne’s hand, except it was a necklace and it was covered in glitter glue. And to answer your question, yes, it looked STUNNING paired with my Northern Getaway turtlenecks.
Here’s more of Anne and her low-budget Dr. Claw hand at the Interstellar premiere last night, as well as stoned armadillo Matthew McConaughey and his wife (who sort of looks like a sexy puddle, if that makes any sense?), Jessica Chastain, and Renesmee from Twilight:
As Always, Matthew McConaughey Brought Stoned Armadillo Realness To The American Cinematheque Awards
Last night, His Royal Hiiiighness The Sun-Baked Bongo King Matthew McConaughey was honored with an American Cinematheque Award for his tireless efforts to just keep livin’ and awright awright awright-ing (and also maybe for acting). But I guess he figured it wasn’t that much of an honor, since he’s already won the only acting award that counts – AN OSCAH!!! – so he said fuck it and decided to collect his award looking like a high-ass reptile who spent the afternoon passed out on the beach in a sandy pile of Doritos and empty Bud Light Lime-A-Rita cans. “Who says I didn’t? Awright awright awright.”
I’m not sure what an American Cinematheque Award is, but it sounds French, so bravo Le T-Rex du Texas! I mean, it had to be at least a little bit of a big deal to win, since he brought the most glamorous woman in his life to help him collect his award. No, I’m not talking about his wife Camila Alves. I’m talking about the stunning sunset-colored Texas Topaz who birthed him, Mary Kay McConaughey! Momma Kay became my favorite of the Hollywood Moms the time she flashed her Spanx-covered buttermilk biscuit on the red carpet. She’s the true star of the McConaughey family! Give her the award! At least you know she won’t show up looking like a dude named Lyzard who keeps getting busted for trying to sell stale weed from the cereal aisle at Walmart.
Here’s more of The Sun-Baked Bongo King picking up his ACA with his wife Camilla (who looks kind of like what you’d get if you used the ‘Make Look Human’ tool in Photoshop on a picture of Kim Kardashian, aka gorgeous), Matt’s hot mom Kay, and some of Matt’s former co-stars, like AMERICAN CITIZEN Laura Jeanne Poon, Jennifer Garner, Kate Hudson, Jessica Chastain, and Anne-with-an-E Hathaway looking like the long lost 5th member of the South Park goth kids: