The Screen Actors Guild Awards was last night and as you know big things happened in diversity. (Well, hello #SAGsSoBlack) But as you also know in life, the good comes with the bad. And if you need further proof of the latter statement take a look at the nominees who walked the red carpet. While many actresses effortlessly slayed (I’m looking at you Rachel McAdams.. “And I’m looking at you, Lori Petty!” – Michael), others lost sense of the space-time continuum and common sense, showing up dressed like a Project Runway reject designed their gowns. The latter remark is best applied to actress Alicia Vikander who wore a long-sleeved, sparkly Louis Vuitton dress that bore a striking resemblance to the afghan on Roseanne’s couch. The dress just screams, “We were short on material while sewing this number” with its large patchwork of mismatched colors and unflattering large squares. Instead of shutting down questions, Alicia’s dress incited a lot more. I ask you, “When has gold and blue ever worked as a color combination?”
I’m sure the snooty fashion mavericks at Louis Vuitton convinced her on that wolf ticket of a dress by saying, “Darling! It’s gorgeous on you! What more can you ask for: chic and 70s-inspired? Voila!” And of course, because she’s obligated by contract as the face of Louis Vuitton to wear it, she fell for it. But I don’t blame Alicia because her thought process is technically hazy considering she’s at stage 10 of dickmatization courtesy of her, er, well-equipped boyfriend Michael Fassbender. Yes, she did nab an award for Outstanding Supporting Actress in a Movie for her performance in The Danish Girl which is lovely. But I’m positive all she was concerned about was running back to her hotel room to get some Fassbender lovin.’ “Who cares about this God-forsaken borrowed dress,” Alicia mumbled to herself, statue clutched in her hand, as the elevator ascended back to her complimentary room. “I’m going to get plowed by the best of them as soon as I enter my room.”
My thoughts exactly, Alicia. My thoughts exactly.
For more of the horror show known as the red carpet, browse the slideshow below for WTF moments from some of your favorite actresses such as Nicole Kidman, Kaley Cuoco, Christina Hendricks, Laverne Cox, Rooney Mara, Kate Mara, January Jones, and many more.
This might be the first time Amber Heard is scrunching up her nose because she thinks it looks cute and not because her nose hairs are violently cringing at Johnny Depp’s stank. Mark it in your calendars!
The last time human cigarette butt Johnny Depp and his midlife crisis wife strolled down the red carpet, he left behind a toxic trail of rancid hair grease and stinky tooth fumes, and the red carpet died. It was tragic. I guess Johnny was afraid of a future class action lawsuit if he killed any more red carpets with his grossness, because he showed up to The Art of Elysium’s 9th annual HEAVEN Gala last night in Los Angeles looking clean and showered. I know, I can’t believe it either.
I have no idea how this happened. Maybe he accidentally slipped into a soapy bathtub. Maybe he took a tour of the EPA head office in Washington and wandered into a decontamination room on his way to the men’s room. Or maybe this is actually an alien disguised to look like Johnny Depp, but the only reference it had to go off of was a 15-year-old VHS copy of Chocolat. Yeah, that’s got to be it.
Since Johnny Depp took a temporary break (I’m sure he’ll be back to looking like the dirty reusable rag from a truck stop hand dryer in no time) from being the unofficial red carpet mess, Ed Westwick generously stepped up and filled in.
I have no idea why the douchey dude from Gossip Girl is dressed like “The Older One” from a late-90s boy band, but it’s happening. If I had to guess more about Ed’s boy band persona based off of this look, I’d say his nickname is either Shaydz or Sensual D, and his signature music video dance move is intensely staring into the camera while doing prayer hands.
Here’s more from last night’s Art of Elysium event, including some of special guest Vivienne Westwood, who legit looks like an alien and isn’t trying to hide it.
When Jon Hamm’s acceptance was over last night, I wondered if he Hilary Swank’d it by not thanking his now ex-piece Jennifer Westfeldt. My ears didn’t hear the words, “Thank you, Jennifer Westfeldt,” but then again, I really wasn’t listening since all of my focus was on trying to spot any sign of the Hammaconda. (I always focus on the highly important things.) Jon Hamm did thank his partner/mother figure of 18 years…right after he thanked their dog first.
I’ve been trying to read Dark Places by Gillian Flynn for at least a year. Like Jon Hamm trying to fuck an extra tight hole, I can’t get into it all the way. I speed read through her other books, Gone Girl and Sharp Objects, in a quick minute, but Dark Places is just not holding me. I make it to about 10 pages before I say to myself, “I would rather be watching porn or Love It Or List It,” so I drop my Kindle and go and do that. I have stopped and re-started that book at least 5 times. I finally said “fuckit” after finding out the movie’s coming out this year, because we all know that the movie is ALWAYS better than the book. But then I watched the French trailer today and um…well….
The French trailer came out first, because it opens in France on April 8th. It doesn’t have a US release date yet.
Charlize Theron feels beyond miscast in this shit. When I read it, I pictured a busted and raggedy Amy Adams. The character is supposed to be kind of plain and broke off. Charlie went all out for Monster, but they didn’t even try to homely her up for this mess. They put a ball cap on her head and called it a day. And the movie just looks like one long low-budget truTV reenactment. Shit, I guess I have to try to finish the book after all.
Christina Hendrix showed up to the 5th Annual Veuve Clicquot Polo Classic in Pacific Palisades, CA yesterday, and for some ungodly reason she chose the Napoleon Dynamite reject outfit above to wear to the event. NO. Awkward Family Photo 70s tux/doily combo Christina…really?? I can’t.
I know that the whole world yells at her to put her ridiculous pillowlicious chi chis away once in awhile but this is taking it way too far. That “ensemble” is tata jail. Illegal. FREE THE TATAS!!! And not only is it tata jail, it’s face/hair/shoes/body/all of it jail that sucks the life from everything else in a 5 mile radius into a vortex of fuckugly. We’re so sorry Christina!!! Please please PLEASE bring back the tatas. We’ll even seat them in the front row so they feel special.
Did Christina plan this outfit, or was she attacked by my Grandma’s window sheers and ridiculously long dresser runner before falling into a “vintage nobody wants” Goodwill box on her way to the red carpet? I don’t know. All I know is that the next time someone shades her for always having Tha Girls on display, she should show them this picture and they will immediately retract their statement and fluff her boobs for her. Everybody wins.
On second thought, Kerry Washington’s Emmy dress isn’t exactly Project Runway-levels of WTF (there’s not nearly enough peplums or random-ass fabric “flowers”). It’s actually closer in range to something Tina Knowles would have thrown together last-minute for Michelle Williams, if Tina Knowles ran out of satin, denim, neon lace, redundant belt buckles, fringe, and only had a bolt of busted Tang-colored jersey, some leftover ribbon scraps, and a pair of Beyoncé’s old sequined hot pants. Even Kerry Washington knows she looks not-great. Her face is like: “HAAAAAY! I’m a mess, but everyone loves me, so haters to the left!”
It’s a scientific fact that Kerry Washington can’t ever look bad, so technically this look falls into the category of ‘Not exactly a home-run’. But sometimes you just say fuck it, I’m wearing black-tie bike shorts and a dress with weird seams that make it look like I’m a reflection in a Fun House mirror, and applying some dusty blue garage doors to my eyelids and if I have time, I’ll finger-comb some Batiste dry shampoo through my hair in the limo, because YOLO. Or LIGAF. Or whatever the acronym for “fuck effort, I’m only here for the booze” is.
But my say something nice is that she kind of looks like what the lazy sluts do on Halloween when they forgot to get a costume and all they have to work with is an orange dress from Bebe, so they just go out to the club as “Sexy..uh…Halloween Girl?“, which is literally my favorite thing ever.
Here’s more of Kerry, as well as all the other fancy-dressed hos from the Emmys in no particular order. Just kidding! I put the hottest first! Jon Hamm (the whole gallery should be pictures of Jon Hamm from various angles, but I don’t wanna be a creep)(too late)! Christina “Chichi Queen” Hendricks! Peter Dinklage! Donna from That 70s Show!
“Dear God, it’s that time again; my hourly prayer to thank you for the miracle that is my life. Who would have thought that a human puggle most famous for eating a bag of shrooms in Super Troopers would be married to this heavenly ambrosia earth angel.” – Geoffrey Arend, who looks like he’s trying to lick up the tears of happiness that fall down his cheeks every time he remembers who he’s married to.
Christina Hendricks, seen here in the ‘Excuse my beauty’ stance used to push all ghosts of basic bitch past aside to make enough room for her glamour, may have covered up her effervescent chesticles for her walk down the Cannes red carpet, but they’re with us in spirit. Sadly, she wasn’t walking the red carpet for the French premiere of Le Mad Men, so there will be no pictures of the Hammaconda in a striped shirt and beret with its balls clutching a baguette and a lit cigarette. No, she was there for the premiere of Ryan Gosling’s directorial debut film Lost River. And I dub this look Lost Glasses, because in that fancy beaded table runner and poorly-placed wig, she sort of looks like someones great grandmother 3 scotches deep at a wedding. Which isn’t to say she doesn’t look hot; quite the opposite, actually. There’s nothing hotter than a 95-year-old throwing back the hard shit while using a salad fork to scratch the itch under her wig and asking everyone around the table if their brassieres are as uncomfortable as hers.
As for Lost River, TIME says the critics hissed out a chorus of boooooos during the screening, with reviews ranging from “pretentious horseshit” to “If a $200 haircut and $900 shades were given lots of money to defecate on Detroit, the result would be Ryan Gosling’s directing debut” (You bitch! Call me?). Thankfully Christina’s grandmotherly bosom was on hand to comfort Ryan Gosling; nothing dries tears faster than falling into the open arms of Christina Hendricks and snuggling into her feel-better boobies while she stokes your hair and whispers “There there, little Gosling, it’s going to be ok.”
Throw yourself onto your fluffiest, most overstuffed pillows and weep, because Christina Hendricks has told Health magazine that she’ll never bless our eyes with the sight of beautiful leche-swollen chesticles, because she doesn’t really want children. NO! How could she? What did the poor children ever do to Christina to make her snatch away the gift of nursing them with her ethereal chichis???
“We got a puppy, and that’s my idea of starting a family. People say, ‘Oh, that’s practice for parenting,’ but if it’s practice for anything it’s to be a mom to another puppy. We’ve decided that we are not really interested in having children.”
“It’s just very normal for people to say, ‘Well, when you guys have kids…’ and then when I say, ‘Actually, I don’t think we’re going to do that,’ people will say, ‘Oh, you say that now…’ It doesn’t bother me, though. And, you know, there’s a small chance I could change my mind.”
Did you hear that? She says we’ve got a chance! Quick, start emailing Christina Hendricks every internet video you can find of a baby doing something cute, and delete all the ones where they’re shitting or projectile vomiting. The hungry bebehs of the future need our help!
But I can sort-of understand why she’s picking puppies over bebehs. Puppies will never crash your car through the garage door. Puppies will never drop out of high school to pursue their dream of becoming a DJ. Puppies will never steal your booze. And puppies will never greedily nurse the life and effervescence from your tittys, only to leave them with tiny bite-makes from baby-teefs and sagging down to your waist. Puppies are considerate like that.
No, Vincent Kartheiser wasn’t in the middle of being prepared for a lobotomy when an earthquake happened and the surgical team had to abort, drop the clippers and run out of the building. Rory Gilmore’s future husband (Wait, are those hos still engaged?) is a dedicated method actor who shaves his hairline back and gains some chunk to play It’s Pat’s equally as awkward son Pete Campbell on Mad Men. Dedication to your work IS making your hairline look like a Kardashian’s 5 o’clock butt stubble.
Vincent showed up to the premiere party for Mad Men’s 7th season looking like he got Dollar Tree hair plugs put it in at the same back alley plastic surgeon van where Lil Kim gets her baby dick nose shaved off. He looks like a derpy Friar Tuck which is saying a lot, because Friar Tuck is already at maximum derp. Vincent’s head looks like a factory-defected Chia Pet. There’s a method to his madness, though. Vincent told reporters a couple of years ago that he has always imagined Pete Campbell as having a receding hairline so he shaves his hairline, and after shooting is done he has to walk around looking like John Travolta in a shifted wig before his hairline grows back. Vincent probably thinks he’s the Daniel Day-Lewis of cable and deserves every Emmy for going all the way. But he needs to get over himself, because he’s not the greatest method actor of Mad Men. January Jones is!
January Jones never EVER gets out of character. When the cameras are on, she’s in character as Betty Draper. When the cameras turn off, she’s in character as Betty Draper. When she goes home after playing an ice cold queen all day, she stays in character. She stays in complete character when she’s smoking a cigarette while watching her kid poke at the half-frozen microwave dinner she didn’t cook all the way. She stays in character when her kid is crying and she rolls her eyes while turning up the TV louder to drown out his wails. She stays in complete character when she pisses out a piss popsicle into the toilet. January Jones was in character as Betty Draper before she was cast as Betty Draper and she’ll stay in character as Betty Draper for the rest of her life. So Vincent K and his method hairline shouldn’t feel so goddamn special.
Here’s more of the cast of Mad Men (including Christina Hendrick’s chichis and Jon Hamm sans the Hammaconda) at last night’s premiere party.
Usually Christina Hendricks uses scaffolding, two tire jacks and five rolls of duct tape to hike her magnificent chichis all the way past her face until they’re touching her eyebrows. But at Vanity Fair’s Oscar party last night, her Mount Everest titty balls weren’t suffocating and they weren’t touching God’s feet and hos probably said to her, “So that’s what your face looks like, bitch!”
Christina Hendricks’ chichi domes look magnificent when they’re squeezed up to the roof of heaven or when they look like two extra large mounds of uncooked sourdough cooling on a rack (see: above), but what in Mrs. Roper’s cleaning dress HELL is that on her body?! When I was in the 4th grade, I had a friend whose mom didn’t have money to buy her a Halloween costume, so I helped her make a witch costume using a nun’s gown I wore the year before (yes, I was a nun for Halloween in the 3rd grade, don’t ask how much shit I got for that), a black curtain panel from Ikea and black construction paper. My friend’s costume cost zero dollars, was busted as fuck and was made by two brats whose hands were shaking from eating too much candy and it still looked more luxurious and fashion forward than that shit Christina wore. That dress looks like something Endora would wear to the funeral of a whore she hated. It looks like something from the American Horror Story: Coven collection at Dress Barn.
With all that being said, Christina Hendricks, hausfrau in mourning dress and all, was still the hottest look at that VF party (no, it wasn’t), because mostly everybody else (just Kate Beckinsale) looked like the last place loser at the Miss Bolivia 1993 pageant.