The NAACP Image Awards happened in Pasadena, CA last night, and once again, grand master poser Taraji P. Henson melted the eyelashes off of hos left and right with her extra hot posing game. At the Golden Globes last month, Taraji took us on a journey with her poses. She was Scarlett O’Hara with the vapors. She was a shocked Norma Desmond. She was me whenever one of my friends get me a new butt plug for my birthday. She was everything and more. Taraji played it a little more subtle at the NAACPs last night, but she still posed like she was head of her class at Phoebe Price’s Community College of Exuding Raw Glamour.
Empire won a few NAACP Awards last night including one for Taraji for Outstanding Actress in a Drama Series. Taraji should’ve won another award for Outstanding Posing While Holding A Trophy Backstage At The NAACP Awards. Taraji served up intrigue and orgasm faces while posing with that award. She also gets extra points for making sure that we all got a good view of that trophy’s crotch. And I even love that she looked like a cross between Morticia Addams going to a daytime business meeting and a casual Magica de Spell.
Here’s a million more pictures from last night of everyone looking like they’re wearing dresses they bought at Windsor Fashions in the 90s. Well, everyone except for Cree Summer who looked like Pilgrim Pippi Longstocking on the right kind of acid.
Andy Samberg’s tiny-voiced wife Joanna Newsom is sort of known for having a “fuck it, I wear what I want” attitude when it comes to red carpet clothes. Which is great, because, fuck it – wear what you want. And last night was no exception. Obviously the WTF Award went to Heidi Klum and whatever the hell she was wearing, but Joanna came pretty close.
Joanna’s look is sort of a mix between “accident at the Mattel factory involving a Pink n’ Pretty dining room set” and “fancy new money jellyfish“, and I don’t hate it. She looks like what I imagine Miss Piggy’s powder room looks like; just tons of random fabric and shit covered in gems. Also, if you squint a little, her dress sort of looks like a penis with a wart on the tip. Just me? Okay.
Other than Joanna, not many other famous types brought the messy eleganza. Probably because they knew it was going to be so hot, and they just couldn’t be bothered. That, or they knew no matter how foolish they tried to look, they’d be no match for Alan Cumming and his dress CROCS.
Regardless, here’s a bunch of other dresses from last night. And pants! A bunch of ladies wore pants. I don’t really blame them; it’s a lot easier to run back and forth to the bar during commercials if you don’t have to pull 30 lbs of fabric along with you.
I can only imagine the disappointed thoughts Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen are telepathically communicating to each other as they watch people walk the Met Gala red carpet. If had to guess, it was probably something along these lines:
“So much nude illusion fabric. And the sequins – so many sequins. I think I’m going to be sick.”
“I too am feeling ill, sister. Fetch me a fainting squirrel, I shall need to lie down.”
The Met Gala really isn’t the Met Gala until fashion’s creepiest pocket goths make an appearance. I was excited to see if they would wear something in keeping with the theme, but of course they didn’t. DUH! Mary Kate and Ashley showed up in the same floor-length body-swallowing black sadness sacks they always wear. I’m sure there’s a high-fashion word for whatever they’re wearing, but I’m scared I can’t afford to even look it up online. Whatever they’re wearing, I’m sure it’s very expensive and was made from the finest of endangered spider hairs and antique mourning lace.
Or maybe they’re dressed all in black as a not-so-subtle “You are DEAD to us” message to John Stamos.
And here’s what feels like everyone else from last night, but is really just 1/98th of the people there. Fucking everyone went to that Met Gala. I bet the rats behind Guy Fieri’s restaurant got dressed up in little rat-sized tuxedos and went too. Anyway, most were pretty boring, but some people brought it. AnnE Hathaway looked like a shimmery tapeworm, Dakota Johnson looked like the backsplash tile model from a home improvement show, and Anna Wintour looked like a street corner sign waver mascot for an opium den (don’t worry, I barely know what that means either).
When last year’s award season sweetheart (after the Texas T-Rex, of course) Jared Leto won the Independent Spirit Award for Best Supporting Actor for The Dallas Buyers Club, he spent a million minutes thanking every single person who ever lived from Steve Jobs to Mozart to Kurt Cobain to the billion people on Earth to James Gandolfini’s kids to the makers of vegan butter to the inventor of the zipper to his future ex-wife Lupita Nyong’o, etc.. etc… Bitch wasn’t done. At yesterday’s Independent Spirit Awards in Santa Monica, CA, Jared Leto handed out the award for Best Supporting Actor and before J.K. Simmons’ name slipped out of his delicate lips, he mouth queefed out more people and animals he forgot to thank. And he did it whilewearing a blazer I swear Linda Dano wore on Another World at least once. As your ass can tell from the video from The Hollywood Reporter above, Jared thanked the frog he viciously murdered and Richard Simmons. Take out the frog-killing shit and switch out Poquito Mas for Del Taco and this would pretty much read like my acceptance speech if I won anything.
“That frog that I accidentally squeezed to death in second grade, thank you for teaching me how short life truly can be. Richard Simmons, my flexibility, endurance and uncanny fashion sense. All of my homies at Poquito Mas on Ventura Boulevard. And last but not least my grandmother for beating me senseless with a fly swatter, teaching me that you can’t get away with everything that you think you can. Respect your elders unless you want a can of whoop-ass.”
And a little later on last night, a wet piece of shit fell on Jared Leto’s head and he probably thought Linda Dano threw it at him for wearing her favorite blazer. But nope, it was the frog he murdered shitting on him from heaven for using its tragic death for laughs. This little speech might’ve made you roll your eyes out of their sockets, but I do appreciate him paying homage to the bedazzled dandelion Richard Simmons and NOT THE ONE abuelitas. However, I still can’t believe Jared hasn’t thanked the one person he needs to thank: Rickie Vasquez. Every speech where Jared Leto doesn’t thank Rickie Vasquez is a speech nobody needs to hear.
To see all the winners from yesterday, click here. Below are approximately ten thousand pictures of everyone who was at the Independent Spirit Awards yesterday. You might want to put on some industrial-strength goggles before getting to Oprah’s picture, because her mighty chichis will punch your eyeballs if you don’t protect them.
All that’s missing is a tiny parasol and a hat made out of a giant flower. And bigger hair (those Rose Petal Place gals had some on-point beauty pageant hair). When I think of Golden Globes fashion, I think of champagne-scented body shimmer sophistication and still tacky eyelash glue glamour, as seen on living makeup brush Jennifer Lopez. What I don’t think of is Sears Summer Nightgown Fly Fishing Lure Couture, as seen on a newly knocked up Keira Knightley.
Not that she looks bad; she actually looks a lot like a very pretty porcelain doll I had when I was 6 whose glass eyes kept falling out, and even without eyes that doll was elegant as hell. But she’s not bringing enough devastating shimmer and shine to the red carpet. If there’s any time to wrap your baby gut in sequins, it’s at the Oscar’s drunk cousin.
Keira’s dress also reminds me of an embroidered dress I had when I was little that I called my “senorita dress”. It had elastic around the neck so you pull it down around your shoulders if you felt a little sassy. But since I was like 8 or something, I had to wear it around my neck, demure-style, like Keira. Maybe Keira figured that random butterfly on her right hand was sassy enough.
Here’s more Keira looking like a Barbie in a home-made dress, as well as a bunch of other famous types in questionable couture from last night, including Kristen Wiig who was feeling sassy enough, Rosamund Pike who was about two seconds from having everything fall out, and some chick named Tiziana Rocca who looks like Dina Lohan after a Long Island Ice Tea bender and may be my new life inspiration:
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!
You can’t so much as fart in Hollywood without hearing about it in detail (“A source close to the butt hole claims it was silent, but violent”), yet TMZ is saying that Kerry Washington gave birth to the baby she was pregnant…TWO WEEKS AGO. Now, two weeks may not seem like that long to you and me, but in Hollywood Time, that’s roughly the equivalent of 4 months (I’m sure Neil deGrasse Tyson will do a better job explaining Hollywood Time on a future episode of Cosmos). This is truly some Scandal-level sneakery.
TMZ says that on April 21st, Kerry and her husband, NFL player Nnamdi Asomugha, gave birth to a baby girl named Isabelle Amarachi Asomugha. The must have tiptoed in to Cedars-Sinai dressed like Secret Squirrel, or checked into triage under the name “Mr. and Mrs. Incognito”, because nobody tipped off the paps. Then all three of them must have climbed on top of each other’s shoulders and threw on an extra-long trench coat so they could sneak out in private as well. So sneaky. So smart. Kerry really is Olivia Pope.
So belated congratulations, Kerry and Nnamdi, on the arrival of baby Isabelle Amarachi Asomugha (I can pronounce that, but still can’t pronounce “Teresa Giudice” correctly), but also for managing to be a famous person who was able to give birth in Los Angeles without anyone knowing about it for almost two weeks after it happened. I’d like to see NDT explain the mystery behind that one.
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!
On the left is the infamous fake flowers bathroom that fuckery artist Hildi Santo-Thomas designed on Trading Spaces, and on the right is a knocked up Drew Barrymore at the Golden Globes last night. Drew said that Monique Lhuillier designed her dress, but please, we all know that Hildi and two neighbors spent all night stapling plastic flowers from Michael’s to her. Trapped inside of Drew Barrymore is a 5-year-old whose greatest joy in life is pasting tissue paper flowers on construction paper during craft time, so that dress was very HER, but when I first saw it I had the same reaction I had when I first watched Hildi tell the neighbors that she wanted to staple thousands of flowers to the bathroom walls. I laughed until I realized she was being serious.
Drew looks like the inside of a greeting card envelope filled with Valentine’s Day confetti. The fact that Drew’s dress comes in adult sizes is just another reason for why this world is a bizarre fucking place.
And for the record: the bathroom worked it better.
Here’s more of Drew looking like a Valentine’s Day piñata and also pictures of other knocked up ladies including Kerry Washington and Olivia Wilde (whose bump looks like a green disco ball).
For about a minute now, hos have been looking at Kerry Washington’s ever-growing baby baking area and thinking to themselves the same thing my mom says to me whenever she sees me, “Either there’s something growing in there or you’re on the wine, Chipolte and Halloween candy diet again.” It’s the latter for me and the former for Kerry Washington. Kerry, who got secret married to 49ers cornerback Nnamdi Asomugha in June, has a fetus living in her womb and it’s coming out party is set for the Spring. A source (read: Kerry’s publicist) tells People that Kerry wouldn’t normally talk about being knocked up, but she’s hosting SNL this weekend and doesn’t want #doesoliviapopehaveafitzbabylivingupinherwomb to be a trending topic. The “source” said this to People:
“Kerry and Nnamdi are ecstatic.”
The pal adds that the private star likely wouldn’t have discussed her big news, but with a stint on Saturday Night Live this weekend, “she didn’t want the focus to be on whether or not she has a bump.”
Despite the news, “Kerry will still absolutely be keeping her private life private,” the source says.
Kerry Washington had a secret marriage and didn’t really want anyone to know that she’s knocked up, so I’m guessing that in a couple of years when she’s papped with a toddler, she’ll just shrug and say that it’s her really tiny assistant. And I hope Shonda Rhimes doesn’t write Kerry’s pregnancy into Scandal, because I really want to see Olivia Pope hide her fetus dome with giant wine glasses and oversized briefcases. Olivia Pope can be the new Amanda Woodward.
And here’s some riveting pictures of Kerry outside of her hotel in NYC yesterday.