Naomi Watts really did a number on me last year when it came out that (despite Liev Schrieber’s versatility in bouncing from a Shakespearean role to playing Cotton Weary in Scream) Liev would NOT maintain his 11-year part in pleasing Naomi’s Aussie cooch. The duo split, and garbled out the typical “We have huge love and respect for one another and high hopes for it to remain that way going forward” ca-ca. That is the usual prerequisite in Hollywood, before one of them fucks a member of the hired help and then has to buy them a Prius as hush money.
Well, it seems Naomi’s role as a horny therapist in Gypsy is sending tingles to her lady bits, as Page Six reports. Supposedly, she’s bumping Down Unders with her TV-husband (and MasterCard “Priceless” guy!) Billy Crudup. Continue reading
At least I assume that’s what’s supposed to be going on here? Claire Danes must either be working out the kinks of a new prescription from her optometrist, or she legitimately wanted to dress in this outfit for the Met Gala. I think it’s the second option. But mostly because I want to believe there’s a stylist out there who successfully convinced Claire Danes to work some aspiring early-00s European trance DJ realness.
Claire Danes’ Met Gala ensemble is something Stefon would describe in a Why She Looks A Mess support group. Claire’s outfit has everything: cargo pockets, the cheapest curtain panel from IKEA, Cameron Diaz’s old hair, those folded paper fans your auntie makes when she’s too hot in church, pants from a Pussycat Dolls fire sale.
That whole outfit, which you can thank Monse for, gave me a major flashback to about a decade ago. I had a very similar shirt. Except mine had way more grommets and laces, and I definitely wore it with a pair of knock-off stiletto Converse that I bought for $19.99 at Zellers. Although I never would have paired it with those cargo-pocket formal pants like Claire. Pseudo-combat style mixed with suburban wannabe? Ugh, so tacky!
The faraway look on Claire Danes’ face in that picture above could either be because she just had a flashback to how orange she was at the Emmys last month or because the negative “I hate you” energy from standing between F. Murray Abraham and Mandy Patinkin is giving her a tension headache. Page Six says it’s the second one.
Cate Blanchett was at the Tony Awards in NYC last night, because she’s making her Broadway debut later this year in a show that isn’t Hamilton. (I know, why are other shows even bothering?) Judging by that butchered-up look on Cate Blanchett’s body, I’m guessing that she was also there, because she knew that most thi-turr people play it safe by wearing the most boring dress at Lord & Taylor, so she needed to give the public something that’ll hurt their eyeballs and make their retinas curl. Thank you, Cate!
It was very nice of Betsey Johnson to remove her name from the nominees list, and therefore give people like Beyonce a fighting chance at taking home the CFDA’s Fashion Icon award. I’m assuming that’s what happened. Betsey Johnson has always been my favorite fashion weirdo. Even when I was very little and my knowledge of fashion was limited to skorts and whatever the look is called when you loop the bottom of a t-shirt through the neck hole, I knew that she was the definition of effortless, carefree WTF style. Effortless, because she always looks like she put in zero effort. Carefree, because I’m sure she’s free of cares when it comes to what anybody thinks about her. And WTF, because I still cannot figure out what the fuck is going on with those glue-in hair extension.
Betsey brought her carefree WTF style to the CFDA Awards last night. Betsey Johnson gave everyone “getting-her-groove-back grandma” mixed with Janice the Muppet and a side of boxed wine buzz. She’s on vacation from all her worries and troubles and the collection agency that won’t stop calling and demanding payment for that pesky overdue TJ Maxx credit card bill, and she doesn’t care who knows it! Betsey looks like she’s about to climb over the bar at her all-inclusive Mexican resort, grab a bottle of rum and a handful of limes, and smoker-bark over to her friends Buffy, Bambi, and Binky: “See you in the pool!” I want to be this version of Betsey Johnson when I grow up.
Of course, there always has to be a runner-up in the Pageant of Life, and I choose to give that honor to Selma Blair.
On the left is Claire Danes in a Zac Posen gown she wore to the Met Gala, and on the right is Cinderella in the Main Street Electrical Parade at Disney World. Yes, that side-by-side picture is very “what it looks like online vs. what you actually get in the mail,” but Cinderella still wins it for me and I’m only saying that because she once waved to me during the Electrical Parade at Disneyland in the late-80s. And nothing made the life of a young gay me like Cinderella waving directly to me. Yes, she was waving directly to me! I wasn’t drunk. I didn’t start drinking until I was at least 11. But anyway…
Zac Posen’s people pretty much lit up the clits of Twitter last night when they tweeted a picture of the fiber optic Cinderella gown they created for the Met Gala. At first, nobody really knew who was wearing it and it was rumored that professional event goer Heidi Klum’s ass was in it. (Side note: Heidi Klum did not go to the Meth Gala. Mark that day in history!) The Heidi rumors didn’t make sense to me, because that dress wasn’t b-hole hugging tight and covered in cut-outs. It was Angela Chase in that dress. To me, it was just a rented Cinderella costume with some lights in it, but the Internet’s retinas oozed out jizz over it, because we’re all just stoned cats who ooooh and awwww over sparkly things:
And is prom season over? Because if not, we’re going to be hearing about a lot of girls electrocuting and burning their asses. So many of them are going to try to recreate this look using a discount wedding dress from David’s Bridal, Christmas lights and a portable generator on a dolly.