The New York City Ballet’s 2014 Fall Gala (I might as well have just typed “Rich People Being Rich”, right?) was held last night in Manhattan, and Sarah Jessica Parker arrived wearing an elegant formal caftan, because I guess the theme was “Shit a ballet dancer would never wear unless they wanted to trip onstage and break both their ankles.”
Sarah wore a dress made by the same designer responsible for the coochie-clutching couch upholstery onesie Taylor Swift wore to the VMAs, and I’ve never been so glad to see a designer’s versatility, because I don’t think I want to see Sarah Jessica Parker’s fabric-wrapped Sex and the City kitty. She’s too classy for that! She married Ferris Bueller, for fuck’s sakes! Besides, it’s a ballet gala; the only crotches people want to see are those hot lycra-encased Baryshnikov bulges.
But SJP has the right idea to roll up to the red carpet – or I guess in this case, a purple carpet that sort of looks like someone shot and skinned Barney – wearing what looks like a fancy Amish housecoat. I’ve never been to a ballet gala (I’m more of a monster truck jamboree kind of low-life), but I bet they’re boring a shit. And when something is that boring, you want to be comfortable. SJP is wearing the type of dress that will air out your bits if it gets too stuffy and trap your farts all night long. Plus, that fancy table runner down the middle is perfect for hiding spills and stains. Aaaaand I think I just realized why I’ve never been invited to a ballet gala.
Here’s more of SJP being fancy, as well as a bunch of other fancy New York types looking all kinds of fancy last night, my favorite being a very fancy lady named Chui-Ti Jansen who looked like an exquisite diamond-covered angel sitting atop an opulent fabric Christmas tree.
You’re like “Uh, is this a trick question?“. Obviously your first instinct is, duh, legendary loony chest-pounding French Canadian chanteuse Celine Dion worked it better, will always work it better, will work it backwards better. But there’s something about Rihanna’s sloppy-as-all-hell sleeves and loose titty draping that has a certain “Je ne sais give le fuck” that is truly risk-taking. Not to mention that her ensemble sort of makes her look like a hastily-rolled human-sized joint, which truly evokes the essence of RiRi. Celine just looks like a lady in a backwards suit. RiRi takes it! However, all bets are off if Rihanna tries to whip out a giant white fedora and shades, because only Celine can pull off something that ridiculous.
RiRi is currently in New York City for Fashion Week, and it’s RiRi we’re talking about, so of course she’s been working that body-oddy-oddy this week. Except that she’s still sort of keeping things covered up, which is uncharacteristic for her, and I’m confused. Normally her outfits look like they were picked out at Sexy-R-Us, if that’s even a store. And if it’s not a store, it should be; the modesty-impaired should have a one-stop-shop for all their slutty clothing needs. I wonder if that’s ever been pitched on Shark Tank?
Regardless, I’m kind of shocked that Rihanna has been dressing so modestly. Not once have her outer space nipple pellets made an appearance! Although the week is still young; today we get refined menswear-inspired sophistication, but tomorrow she could just say “Fuck it” and hire some dude to walk behind her with his hands covering her Barbadian booby balls like Janet Jackson on that Rolling Stone cover.
She’s like “Hmmm, that’s not a bad idea. I was just going to go topless.” You’re welcome, RiRi!
Here’s more of Rihanna looking like a sexy sleepy pajama model while heading to a fashion event, and then later that night on her way to the Versus Ver-SAYCE show:
Since Taylor Swift the Singer is still trying to make Taylor Swift the Actress happen (first seen in the long-running performance piece, A Beard For All Seasons), she appeared on The Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon for that “Ew!” sketch that will never, ever die. As always, Jimmy Fallon was stuffed into some low-budget Lizzie McGuire drag to portray the long-lost 5th member of the Teen Girl Squad, Sara, who introduced her mom’s friend’s nerdy daughter Natalie. Except to call Taylor as Natalie “nerdy” is an understatement: it’s like Violet Anne Bickerstaff’s severely socially awkward half-sister got thrown into the gene-splicing machine from The Fly with Gretchen Grundler, an asthma inhaler, and Rita from Arrested Development. The only thing missing is a pair of elastic-ankle sweatpants (a true nerd would NEVER be caught dead in a pair of taupe leggings, Taylor), and maybe a couple more scrunchies? She only had like, what, 6?
I know Taylor is going for the whole “I’m not a model, I just live with one” thing, but I actually like Natalie a million times more than Taylor. Here’s what I know about Natalie: she has a bandaid collection (weird), she builds popsicle stick castles (awesome), she wears shirts on shirts on shirts (why not?), and bitch loves accessories. And here’s what I know about Taylor: she reminds me of Special K cereal. Natalie wins!
Here’s more of Nerdy Natalie’s boring alter ego, Take-A-Nap Taylor, on her way home from The Tonight Show last night.
James Franco was on The Colbert Report last night to promote his new movie Child of God, and for the most part it was as if Stephen Colbert was talking to a human-sized drugged squirrel. But towards the end, it sort of all falls off the rails into awkward town when that stoned rodent tries to get Stephen Colbert to break character.
It all starts around the 5:52 mark, when Stephen Colbert decides that it’s time to wrap up his chat with James Franco and slowly pushes his ass towards the door by saying “Well, it was great seeing you again”. Except instead of realizing that the signal to go backstage and collect the bag of Cool Ranch Doritos his publicist promised him if he was able to get through the interview without falling asleep or reciting his shitty poetry, he tries to trick Stephen Colbert into breaking character by asking him questions about his new job as the host of The Late Show when David Letterman retires. That, or he tried to have a real discussion with a fake character. And if that’s the case, then now would be a great time to remind ourselves that James Franco is a PhD candidate at Yale. “We done fucked up” – Yale.
Of course, Stephen Colbert shot him a look as if to say “Like hell this obnoxious douche is going to trip me up.” So he stayed in character and cut him off by saying: “Now, here’s the interesting thing: I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”
And even though we have video proof of what happened, James Franco is going to write a “non-fiction” short story about the time he managed to successfully bamboozle master improviser Stephen Colbert, blowing his cover and forcing Comedy Central to cancel The Colbert Report.
Shay-Lean Woodley, the organic free-range flower child with the monster truck rally name, wanted to go to the movies to see A Walk to Remember 2: More Cancer, More Tears aka The Fault in Our Stars, but she didn’t want to be mobbed by her fans (all ten of them) so she decided to pull a Pistachio Disguisey and concealed her identity by wearing a wig. Just a wig. Dear CIA: I think I’ve found your next head of Spy Training.
Shay-Lean’s co-star Ansel Elgort posted this picture of the two of them to Instagram at a screening of The Fart in Our Shorts on Sunday with the caption: “Shai’s amazing disguise to go see #tfios last night without causing a scene!”, but has since deleted the picture, probably because Shay-Lean was pissed that after working so hard on crafting such an elaborate disguise, Ansel went and blew her cover. HOW RUDE! Now she has to use her fall-back costume: a pair of Groucho Marx glasses.
Even with the wig, Shay-Lean should know she’d never get away with going incognito to the movies. It would be game over the second she pulled up to the valet station at the ArcLight asking where she could plug in her Nissan LEAF (“I think that’s Shay-Lean Woodley”), then she’d start loudly complaining that her movie tickets were printed on paper and not processed hemp sheets using soy-based inks (“That’s definitely Shay-Lean Woodley”), then demanding to speak to the manager to find out if their popcorn is certified non-GMO local organic fair-trade kettle-cooked maize (“Shay-Lean, you can take off the wig now, we know it’s you”).
In yet another attempt to shake up some interest in The Amazing Spider-Man 2: No, You’re Thinking of Spider-Man 2, This Is Different, We Promise, Andrew Garfield appeared on The Tonight Show Thursday night and showed Jimmy Fallon that he’s just as good at movie pimping as his girlfriend Emma Stone by whipping out a guitar and singing the Spider-Man Theme. Obviously this was a terrible idea, since the bar for acoustic Spider-Man Theme covers was set pretty high by a drunk Jack Black years ago, and unless Andrew Garfield was going to use that guitar as a penis and pretend to fuck a dude in a Spider-Man costume, it wouldn’t be worth it for the audience. Buuuut I guess no one at The Tonight Show had the heart to tell him, because he did it anyway.
Normally I would when it comes to Andrew Garfield (hot face + hot last name = yes I have a thing for Garfield the cat, what of it) but the second he picked up that guitar, I immediately got the same douchechill down my spine that I’d get every time I went to a party in college and some asshole in a Love Your Mother t-shirt would pull out a guitar and “You guys wanna hear a little DMB?” And for that reason, I can’t.
You can go ahead and tell your Nana her look is safe for now, because it appears Lady Gaag has moved on from ripping off the elderly and blanket-covered to narrowing in on just one Nana in particular: Nana Lohan, if she got a bit too drunk at dinner (“THERE’S NO SUCH THING” – Dina Lohan) and put on one of Lindsay’s good courtroom weaves. No, you’re right: Nana Lohan would never wear something so cheap (am I talking about the wig or that cheap-looking outfit? You decide).
Lady Gaag must have gotten the memo that the red rose pantyhose mess she wore last Friday night was a total piece of craft-covered FAIL, because she stepped out of her apartment in New York this morning looking like she gave at least a tablespoon more of a damn than she did on the weekend. Gaag didn’t mention what this look is called, but if I had to guess, it’s either ‘Late-in-life lesbian Lana Del Rey’ or ‘Jewish aunt from Long Island who buys whatever she sees Michelle Obama wear on Good Morning America’.
But don’t be fooled into thinking this is merely Gaag’s attempt at dressing normal. No, the Queen of Community College Art Classes is always making some kind of bobo statement about culture and art-culture or whatever. This costume is clearly meant to represent the futility of consumer ignorance in a post-modern, mall-obsessed culture. And it’s all part of a larger performance art piece where she approaches random people on the street, asking: “Have you seen the new cardigans at Ann Taylor? Shopping shopping shopping! It’s my cheat day; let’s go to The Cheesecake Factory! I just bought a new scented candle!”
No offense to whomever designed this dress (who was it, Always or Kotex?) but it looks like the kind of gross off-brand maxi pads you used to get in your high school washroom for $0.25. You know, the kind that always felt like someone had pressure-compressed a super-absorbency adult diaper? Basically what I’m trying to say is this dress looks like something you’d find under the sink in the abandoned guest bathroom at your memaw’s house. “I think it’s a maxi pad, but what year is it from? 1972?”
Lots of fancy hoes came dressed to the 3′s last night at the 2014 amfAR Gala, including our good friend Flo (it’s actually Lily Aldridge). I guess last night’s theme was A Tribute To Afternoon Naps, because everyone was dressed kind of like they woke up on the couch at 5pm and remembered they had somewhere to be. Like Alan Cumming, who clearly panicked when he realized the only clean suit he had left in his closet was the brown one he wore the year he dressed up as an elegant poo for Halloween. Or model Crystal Renn, who’s fucked-up liquid eyeliner says ‘I was done in the car every time we stopped at a red light”‘
I call this look: “GODDAMNIT! Stop fucking braking so hard!”
Here’s more of the amfAR Gala, and please put your hands together for the two people who embodied the spirit of Zzzz the most: Dree Hemingway, who said ‘Fuck it, I’m not changing out of my pyjamas’ and Ireland Baldwin, who is giving the exact same face a baby makes when you abruptly wake it up from a nap:
(Pics: Wenn, Splash)
Q: What do you get when you add Kim Kardashian a face tweak or two ago to Jennifer Lopez, then subtract 75 pounds of ass?
A: K. Lo Rivera, the alter-ego of Glee actress Naya Rivera that showed up to the People’s Choice Awards!
Everybody and their mama’s one-eyed, blind cat made the KK and JLo connections and it’s a damn shame Naya went from this to looking like a bad wax statue of either of those hos.
Naya spent a LOT of time looking shell shocked last night. One explanation for her frozen face is that she gave Nicole Kidman’s red carpet beauty secret a shot and slipped some dry ice into her facial steamer. Or maybe Marc Anthony followed her all night trying to win JLo back by crooning “Need To Know” in her ear looking like Gollum dressed for the prom. The most likely is she overheard Kris Jenner talking about adopting her ass because the Kardashians are in the market for a replacement Kim in case the original one’s face finally slides all the way down and hits the floor.
If the latter is the case, all I can say is “RUN, BITCH! RUUUUN!”
Here are some pics of K. Lo Rivera from last night at the
Who Picks This Shit People’s Choice Awards last night.
Watching this video of Kaley Cuoco’s wedding was a shit way to start out Day 2 of the kids’ school being closed due to Coldmageddon and what feels like Day 376 of having some kind of phlegmy plague. Kaley’s natural speaking voice is one step below “screeching drunk bitch at the bar” and hearing her up the exuberance to squeal about it being her wedding day makes me want to hunt her down and slap a piece of duct tape over her mouth. That’s a lot of excitement for a marriage that started with the bride wearing a dress the color of barfed up Pepto Bismol and will inevitably end before the year mark (I have $20 riding on it in the Dlisted office pool).
The video is pretty much a long ass commercial for Kaley’s hair and makeup artists and she looks nice but kind of same old, same old. At least she didn’t have any weird ass bangs this time like she did for the SAG Awards, but they don’t make a hairpiece big enough to cover her level of Try Hard.
Here are some pics of Kaley making artsy stuff and checking for zits at Color Me Mine Studio in Studio City the other day.