When you’re a question mark’s favorite pop singer and people regularly mistake you for the wall, you have to pull some shit to make people pay attention to you. Like dress yourself up as a Miss Kitty from the future who just got jumped by a gang of silkie chickens.
Clive Davis threw his annual pre-Grammy party in NYC last night, and many of the guests decided to save their better dresses for tonight’s Grammys (although, they should really just wear pajamas with an attached pillow and duvet cover, because that shit is going to be three and a half fucking hours long). Because most of them wore boring dresses bought off the rack at Macy’s (Taryn Manning’s impact!), but not Rita Ora.
Rita Ora threw feathers, fringe, bows, rhinestone and whatever else that was on sale at Michael’s onto her body. Rita looks like she just came from auditioning for the Thandie Newton role in a no-budget unauthorized Public Access reboot of Westworld that takes place way off in the future and will eventually get shut down after HBO sues. Rita is also dressed like a look-for-less Kartrashian, which is saying a lot since the Kartrashians dress like look-for-less Kartrashians.
And here’s a million more pictures from Clive Davis’ party, including Kathie Lee Gifford (who I hope wins, via write-in vote, the Best Song Grammy tonight for He Saw Jesus) and Martha Stewart, whose dogs are probably nervous that she’s going to skin and wear their asses next.
Dylan Farrow, Woody Allen’s adopted daughter, has long accused him of abusing her for years. And she gave her first television interview ever to CBS This Morning, and made it clear that she’d like to push Woody off his golden pedestal.
I think we can safely blame Trump for this whole Oprah2020 business. If we weren’t so starved for rational, impassioned and coherent rhetoric, we might have been able to simply appreciate Oprah Winfrey’s very good Cecil B. DeMille acceptance speech for what it was. Instead, people got so caught up with the idea of Oprah>Trump that they lost their damn minds.
Everyone who you’re not and never will be was at the Adele show in LA last night. Tom Hanks, Rita Wilson, Jennifer Lawrence, Emma Stone, Woody Harrelson, Katy Perry, Orlando Bloom, and John Mayer were among the crowd screaming like the final girl in a horror movie when Adele went “Hello…”.
Here’s some slightly blurry and sort of far-away shots of the various celebrities entering and/or exiting the theater. Let’s see, there’s Katy Perry’s ass arriving. As you will note in those particular shots, I type that literally. Later on, you get to see her and Orlando Bloom exiting out of the VIP fire escape. Katy’s coat is giving me an uncomfortable feeling because it bears an eerie resemblance to my apricot-colored teacup poodle. For serious, his fur is the exact shade and consistency as that piece of apparel. He’s still here and not skinned. I checked. The last thing I need is some pop skeeve with breasts that shoot non-lactate substances breaking into my home and de-furring my dog.
There’s Jennifer Lawrence and Emma Stone exiting the side door as well. Joy seems to be trying to assist Ms. Stone in navigating those stairs. Drunks! But who doesn’t get shittoed at concerts? It should be noted that someone at the Wiltern obviously hates celebs. Making tricks who can afford the really quality booze and drugs exit down a really high staircase post-concert is asking for ambulances. I’m not judging!
According to TMZ, John Mayer was in attendance with a new lucky lady who’s hopefully had all of her shots. I hope there was some weirdness between him and Katy and Legolas. Legolas is the kind of douche who will slap at another douche so perhaps their celebrity skyboxes got crossed somehow and there was friction.
In lower-tier famous news, David Foster and Gayle King (see below) were on the premises. Wait, are they dating? Does that Lyme-disease claimin’ Yolanda Foster chick know that her ex is stepping out with Oprah’s lady? Shit, does Oprah know? Gayle better proceed with caution. Or the next president she’ll be interviewing will be at the Career Center because O will consign her to the curb.
Check out more pics of Katy Perry, Orlando Bloom, Jennifer Lawrence, Emma Stone, David Foster, and Gayle King in the gallery.
As I said earlier, the Oscars were a boring dress parade and I’ve seen more exciting dresses at my mom’s office holiday party. Well, it looks like all the real glamour and demure sophistication was the Vanity Fair viewing and after-party. Not only was Joan Collins there with a wig hovering above her head like a glorious halo, but Crispo Ronaldo’s ex-piece Irina Shayk and the walking community theater production of RiRi’s life titled Rita Ora all wore hot outfits that let everyone know that they traded in their panties for a stick-on pussy patch.
Irina Shayk’s pantyhose dress thing is like the more modest and athletic cousin of that exquisitely classic, coochie-flashing gown that Jaimie Alexander wore in 2013. My only question besides “How many people were treated for elegance inhalation from being exposed to Irina?” is, “How did she piss?” Was there a discreet zipper involved? A snap-off thing? Or did the crotch area have a small hole where she could just stick in a Go Girl and handle it? Even if she couldn’t piss in that bodysuit gown thing and had to hold it all night, it’s worth it. Getting a bladder infection is worth bringing loads of ravishing glamour to the masses.
I bet across town at Denny’s Oscar viewing party, style icon Edy Williams raised a mug full of pink wine and soda water in the air and toasted to Irina Shayk and Rita Whora. Irina just needed more exposed nipple and a random dog, and her Edy Williams tribute would’ve been perfect.
And here’s at least 10 billion pictures from Vanity Fair’s party including pictures of Joan Collins and Monica Lewinsky (????).
My favorite tia’s name is Lupita, and so I have a special love for Lupita Nyong’o and I usually think that she could do no wrong and is the epitome of goddess. This entire awards show season, Lupita has killed hos with her elegance and I really thought there was no way she could fuck up fashion-wise. I thought that Lupita could show up to an award show with CROCs heels and a cinched Snuggie gown and we’d all get on our knees and worship her sophistication. But I learned something new today, Lupita can do wrong.
At the NAACP Awards in Pasadena, CA yesterday, Lupita showed up with Bram Stoker’s Dracula hair and a dress that looked like it was made of orange Fruit Roll-Ups, wrappers and all. She looks like a dehydrated mango slice. I shouldn’t look at Lupita and think, “Magatu’s long-lost love child, is that you, girl?” Also, that fugly dress isn’t doing good things to her chichis.
With all that being said, Lupita was still the hottest and probably best-dressed trick there. I mean, The Mighty O wore a tent dress that was designed by Coleman and Kerry Washington wore a dress that a knocked up 11th grader would wear to her junior prom. So Lupita won best dressed of the night by default.
And click here to see all the winners. ANGELA BASSETT WAS RAAAAAAAAAAAAAH-BBDED!