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.
Open Post: Hosted By The Judges Of “The Voice Of Germany” Having A “Who?” Moment While Watching Rita Ora Audition
Question mark’s favorite singer Rita Ora went on The Voice of Germany to push her second album, which will be released the day after never exclusively in Neverland, and the producers thought it would be a real cute gimmick for her to do a blind audition. The audition was so blind that even when the judges took off their blindfolds (read: turned their chairs around), they still didn’t know who the hell they were looking at. ONTD posted this clip and said, “Even after turning around, the judges didn’t seem to recognize her.” I thought they were exaggerating, but then I watched the clip and a couple of judges do give the same confused face my dad would give me if I ran up to him today and said, “Dad! It’s me, your son Michael!”
Last night the MTV European Music Awards AKA “The Who Dats” were held at Wembley Arena in London. While you might not recognize most of the names and faces of the attendees in the gallery below, what they lack in universal recognition they more than make up for in European je Ne sais quoi with their looks (see: Petite Meller, above). However, some familiar names creamed their way to the top of the list of notable looks that make make no damn sense in any language.