Because my cable provider is a busted bitch who can’t get their act together and make a channel that airs nothing but Mad Men episodes re-cut to feature Don Draper topless in every scene, I spend a lot of time watching Say Yes to the Dress. I can basically predict the outcome of every dress based on hairstyle and nail choice of the bride. 10lbs of curled polyester hair? That bitch is getting a Pnina. Thick acrylic blow job nail tips? It’s going to have cut-outs around the waist and lace appliqué over the nipples (aka “something simple and elegant“).
Marion Cotillard, on the other hand, is working some dark short nails and slicked back no-fucks-given hair, which means that if she were on Say Yes to the Dress, she’s going to hate every dress that goddess Camille will pull for her before making a joke about wanting something that will look good with with her Converse sneakers. Then her grumpy mother-in-law Janet will shake her head and hiss “Marion, please, you only get one day to look like a princess.” And the fancy Dior dress Marion wore to the Critic’s Choice Awards last night is EXACTLY what she’d end up saying yes to if she was someone on SYTTD; it’s got a bodice she can wear a sports bra with and a skirt full enough that she can sit with her legs open.
Here’s more of Marion Cotillard at the Critic’s Choice Awards last night looking like a chick who is so fucking DONE trying on dresses at Kleinfelds, as well as Reese Witherspoon (who was serving up some last-minute bridesmaid at a David’s Bridal outlet realness), Jessica Chastain doing some kind of weird hair thing I would have thought was so classy when I was 12, and everyone else:
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.