Obviously nothing can ever top the legendary sequinned charisma of Lil’ Kim’s purple nipple cover at the 1999 MTV VMA’s, but that’s not nearly a good enough excuse for people not to try. An iconic look is like rolling dice; you might wear something that ends up in one of those Best Looks of ALL TIME galleries for the rest of the internet’s existence, or you might be just wearing clothing. Cardi B could have shocked eyes by showing up in big hair, a dramatic cape, and no pants, but – yawn – been there, done that. Instead, Cardi B made her first red carpet appearance since giving birth last month in a purple gown by Nicolas Jebran and a pussycat wig. Cardi is giving me eccentric Beverly Hills housewife at a charity gala trying to steal the spotlight from her rival Bitsy Saint Claire. Wait a second – rich, attention-getting, short dark hair, daughter’s name spelled with an unnecessary K? Kris Jenner must be so flattered right now.
Poor Rita Ora keeps throwing singles at the wall hoping one of these days one will stick to U.S. radio like even the 900th track from a Justin Bieber album. She’s boned Calvin Harris, Rob Kardashian, and even tried to make people think she boned Jay-Z…and not even the judges on The Voice: Germany knew who she was. Who’s a girl gotta bone around here to get a hit song? If you’re Rita, your new strategy is making people think it’s (sometimes) girls, girls, girls. Continue reading
The Met Gala isn’t a human and isn’t even alive, and yet, that bitch is still getting more action than me.
The theme for the Met’s costume exhibit is Heavenly Bodies: Fashion and Catholic Imagination, but the dress code for the Gala was “Sunday best.” Now, my Sunday best is a faded black Dollywood t-shirt and some Fruit of the Loom sweat shorts covered with chicharron crumbs, wine splatters and lube drops from snacking, boozing and watching porn on my couch. But I guess “Sunday best” to famous rich hos is a crown that weighs more than their head and all of the fabric found in the “Perfect For Granny’s Living Room Curtains” section at Hobby Lobby.
Nothing sells tabloids in England like transcripts of a wire-tapped phone conversation of the Royal Family or Cheryl Cole breakup rumors (what will her next last name be?!), but the latest round of relationship-on-the-rocks reports may be false…or at least not ready to be announced until some financial settlement is made. Cheryl was rumored to be in “crisis talks” with the father of her baby Liam Payne, and it wasn’t just a crisis of some of the fug fashion he rocks on Instagram. While the word was they were oh-so-close to breaking up, they both arrived to the red carpet of the BRIT Awards tonight in London looking like their usual Mrs. Robinson-and-boytoy selves. Continue reading
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.
Rita Ora (oh, come on guys. You know who Ria Ora is by now! Don’t play dumb. She’s the blondish British lady who’s a singer or a model or a spokesmodel or a spokes-singer or something and who is always presenting or performing at at some awards show or another? She hosted Boy Band? And that last terrible season of ANTM? Always wears red lipstick? Yes, HER!) played herself by posting a picture of herself and Irish boxer Conor McGregor looking cozy at the Fashion Awards in London. Not a big deal but she captioned the photo “date night” and that ain’t her man.