The Grammys red carpet always looks like an intergalactic space orgy sprinkled with a bunch of random rappers who just rolled out of bed with barely enough time to grab their grill from the bedside table thrown in for good measure. Every year, it’s a mess. Plus you’ve always got legitimate superstars mixed in with a whole lot whosits and whateverhappenedtos. This year’s Grammy red carpet was no exception. I’m trying to sift through some of these looks, and honestly don’t know where to begin.
Crocs, America’s unofficial shoe of screaming theme park moms and kids with permanent fruit punch mouth. They don’t need celebrity endorsements, because they really sell themselves. What are you going to wear when you’re screaming at your kid that they’ve had enough red juice? But they continue to pay famous people, possibly in hopes that someone will make Crocs seem cool. As it turns out, Crocs found that person in a human that looks a tattooed Fozzie Bear, and he’s done a good job of selling them.
It’s Shallowqueen time, and while many famous tricks are going full Slutoween (see: Parasite “Why Am I Still Talking About her?” Hilton as a slutty raver bunny from 90s pastel hell), others decided to go the scary route. Like Rita Ora who did herself up in Garbage Pail Kid drag by going to a Halloween thing as Post Malone.
For the KISS Haunted House Party in London last night, Rita turned her face in a high school boy’s scribbled-on paper bag book cover by getting fake tattoos to be Shia LaBeouf’s not-as-messy brother. Rita finished the look with a wig that horrifies the hell out of me because it’s what my hair looks like if I don’t condition it every damn day, enough jewelry to make a TSA agent quit on the spot, a fake beard, and Post’s soulmate, a bottle of Bud Light. In case you don’t know, this is what the real Post Malone looks like.
While Rita almost nailed that shit, she looks way too clean and freshly bathed. Whenever I see a picture of Post Malone, my nostrils should close up and the tips of my eyebrow hairs should singe. You did Post wrong there, Rita!
Rita also posted a video of her taking the stage, and nobody realizing it was her. Surprisingly, the video doesn’t go down like this:
Audience: Oh my God, Post Malone we love you!
Rita: It’s not Post Malone! It’s me, Rita!
Rita: Ora! Ri-ta Or-ah!
Audience: *louder crickets*
Rita: Oh fuck it, it’s me Post Malone.
The American Music Awards doesn’t have the respectability of the Grammys or the pizazz of the MTV VMAs, but it’s got…well, it’s got a pointy award and people that show up, and that’s all you really need for a music award show. As such, guests still put in some effort for the red carpet. Post Malone’s hair is still a mess and he’s got those “Yes I’ve been slowly picking off my Shellac manicure” nails, but he also came through with a bedazzled belt buckle and nudie suit made by Union Western Clothing featuring his initials and several snakes. I guess he didn’t get the memo that Taylor Swift had the whole snake thing locked down last night. Oh well, it still pulled his whole look together. That is, if he was going for a look that tells people he’s a very successful businessman who sells snakes at an Alabama swap meet.
This BIG BREAKING NEWS started on Saturday, after Post Malone posted a picture of himself (Postception?) on Instagram with the caption: “Had 2 big ass dreads. plz don’t stop listening to my music.” On Sunday he confirmed that those big ass dreads were no more, and he’d gotten a haircut.
When some people look at Post Malone, they might think, “What kind of drugs makes a person high enough get a barbed-wire tattoo along their hairline?“. But apparently some wannabe criminals saw Post Malone and thought “I want to rob that guy’s house.” The only problem is, the robbers got the wrong place.