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.
America’s third favorite Spider-Man, Andrew Garfield, was spotted strolling in London with the same mystery woman he reportedly started dating back in November. It’s a big change for Andrew to go from dating a white-hot A-lister like Emma Stone, to a plain, nondescript gal like Rita Ora (that’s her name, according to Daily Mail). The pair were photographed walking together in the Primrose Hill neighborhood, and “Rita hid her peroxide blonde locks under her trendy baker boy hat” as if she thought she might be recognized. Which might actually be true. The Mail calls her “The Hot Right Now hitmaker, 28”, so I guess if I cared to Google “Hot Right Now”, I might be able to figure out who she is. She’s alternately described as a “blond bombshell”, a “singer” and “Your Song hitmaker”. This is my “Mr. Police, I gave you all the clues” moment, and I am failing miserably!
Rita Ora is the queen of doing basically nothing but still getting invited to everything. Have you ever heard a Rita Ora song that she wasn’t a feature in or featured people way more relevant than her? Didn’t think so. Yet homegirl still gets invited to the MET Gala and shit! Well, Rita needs to keep her Queen of Showing Up career alive because those Rimmel London ads aren’t worth nothing without a bit-o-tabloid publicity. So now, it’s being reported that she’s dating former Spider-Man Andrew Garfield.
Since it’s Thanksgiving and most of us here at Dlisted are going to spend the rest of the day making our stomachs and bowels sing “AH’M BEGGING FOR YOU MER-SAAAAAY!” by shoving pounds of meat into our face holes like we’re a power bottom at a pass around Patty orgy, we’re pressing pause on our regularly scheduled programming of foolery today. But I will leave you with the Empress of the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, Diana Ross, waving to her subjects while wearing the carcass of a Yeti. Diana also performed and proved that her voice is so powerful that she doesn’t need a stupid mic to fill the land with it, and she is such a talented goddess that she can sing without even moving her lips!
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.