Celine Dion has many skills. She can make a human see the face of every God just by opening up the fountain of ethereal musical notes she calls a mouth. She can make phone calls on a shoe. She can come up with rescue plans on the spot. And she can make gays throw up a river of taffeta by giving a couture show on Instagram. But who knew that Celine Dion is also a masterful drunk whisperer who can expertly tame a fan whose motor functions are being powered by vodka.
Chanel better shutter its windows in the Place Vendôme, Louis Vuitton can lock up on the Champs-Élysées, and Dior can certainly close its door. Why, you ask? Because Celine Dion’s reign over Paris continues, and she’s sucking all the glamour up for herself! Celine got tired of all the snotty Vogue writers blabbing about her on Instagram, so she decided to grace our souls with a visual performance.
Paris hasn’t really been the same since Miss Piggy took over French Vogue. Every gal in town had to immediately burn her wardrobe, because NOBODY does couture like Miss P. That is, until came Celine Dion.
The Queen of Quebec famously kept ringside seats at couture shows where she war whooped next to Anna Wintour, which isn’t nice, since the loudest thing the American Vogue editor likes to hear is the thwack of Roger Federer’s tennis racket at Wimbledon.
I threw a “sort of” into that headline, because I didn’t want anyone to get a stage 10 case of blue balls after looking at that picture and realizing that she’s covering up her nightingale nipples and her international treasure box.
The Celineaissance continues in Paris, and since it’s Haute Couture Week over there, Celine Dion has really been turning it up and giving those fashion hos something to really gag on. And she also proved that she can give tricks the vapors even while not wearing high fashion couture shit.
Vogue has been following Celine around while she’s in Paris, and in between fashion shows, they took this picture of her serving up a “naked on the toilet but keeping it elegant” pose. I’m not posting Vogue’s pretentious and rambling caption, because it is so damn long that when I tried to copy it, my laptop gave me this error message: Bitch, no, it’s the day after a holiday. Don’t do this to me!
And if that sort of naked picture of Say-leen ain’t enough to tip you over, then this clip that reader Charlotte sent in may do it. Celine has been touring Europe and at a show in Lille a few days ago, an audience member recorded her slathering the stage with pure sex. Only theater queens may get this reference, but Celine laid down lots of “Anita Morris in Nine” sexiness:
All hail the second coming of Celine! She’s hot, she’s crazy, she’s horny, she’s a mess, she’s fabulous and let me stop right now so I can slap myself for typing “the second coming.” This isn’t the second coming of Celine since her fabulousness never left us in the first place.
Ever since Celine Dion got a new stylist, Law Roach, she’s been setting the streets and stages on fire with her *~*HI FASHUN*~* and she already won me over with the double clouds of eleganza she worked at the Billboard Music Awards in May. But this look…. ain’t the look.
How many crocodiles were killed just so Celine could leave her hotel in Paris yesterday looking like the assistant road manager of an AC/DC cover band? If your auntie, the one who still wears Ed Hardy, won the lottery, this is the kind of new money ensemble she’d put together to run errands in, and yes she’d buy that kind of crocodile skin coat out of the trunk of someone’s Toyota Camry. That entire outfit definitely costs more than everything I own times a million, but I could replicate it exactly using faux alligator car covers (to make that coat), old brown stirrup pants from the very back of my mom’s closet, a hat from a gas station gift shop and a shirt bought at Jon Gosselin’s stoop sale.
With that being said, Celine Dion is Celine Dion and if she wants to go around looking like the driver of the Rock of Love Bus, I say you shall go for it, Celine!
There’s apparently been 69 (wink wink) Met Galas, but to me, last night was the 1st annual Met Gala, because it was the first one where Celine Dion graciously made an appearance. Every Met Gala before last night’s is now null and void. I’m not sure why it took so long for Celine Dion to grace the Met Gala with her presence. She’s perfect for that mess. She loves fashion. She isn’t afraid to make herself look like the definition of avant-garde caca’d all over her. And she doesn’t take herself too seriously. Oh wait, I think I just answered my own question with that last one. One of Anna Wintour’s rules for every Met Gala guest is: Take yourself VERY seriously!
Celine finally made her long-awaited trip up the Met Gala stairs last night. Celine wore Atelier Versace (or as Nomi Malone pronounces it, “Ate-leer Ver-sayce“) for her Met Gala debut. I give Celine’s “deranged bird from the 90s” look several gold stars, but I give her a billion gold stars for the tour de force performance she gave in Vogue’s video booth thing. Many guests did a video for Vogue, but Celine’s is the only one worth putting your eyeballs on. It’s the greatest reboot of Alice in Wonderland I’ve ever seen. If this video was available on Netflix, they’d have to create a new category for it called: CELINE! Because it covers several genres like drama, mystery, slapstick comedy, horror, film noir and beyond.
I think Celine is using that shoe phone as an intercom to tell the other Gala goers that they can pick up their little gift bags and skedaddle since she’s got this!