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:
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.
Even though Brit Brit’s pussy might be the only pussy on the planet that doesn’t go crazy when it sees a laser, this was still probably the highlight of the night….
At the Planet Hollywood in Las Vegas last night, Brit Brit’s Piece of Zzzzzz show opened and solely judging by the videos and pictures from that Ambien-induced mess, she had the energy of a battery-powered animatronic sloth whose AA batteries have 2% of power in them. Bitch nailed it! During a total of 100 shows, spread over 2 years, Brit Brit will lip-synch and sleep dance through 24 songs, change costumes 7 times and throw 2 different wigs on her head. Brit Brit looks like she’d rather be lounging in her La-Z-Boy recliner while nibbling on Cheddar Bay Biscuits from Walmart during a Duck Dynasty marathon, but since the Spears family has more double wides and duct tape to buy, bitch’s gotta bring in those coins. You can watch a bunch of the performances here, but below is the opening.
YES at those sensible dancing shoes. Our Lady of Cheetos truly is the American dream. Bitch is doing the least while making the most.
File this under: Missed Opportunities For A Truly Sensational Celebrity Baby Name.
Kate Winslet and her husband, Ned Rocknroll, welcomed their first child together on December 7 in London, her third baby by her third husband (she was previously wed to Jim Threapleton and Sam Mendes). The morality police clutched their pearls and came over all faint at the idea of a woman having three babies by three different men but frankly, they’re missing the fucking point here. The real tragedy of this entire thing is that Kate and Ned halfassed their baby name selection by giving Bear her last name, as The Sun (via NYDN) reported.
First of all, Bear has already been done. Kate is going to need to figure out how to upstage Alicia Silverstone’s special brand of parenting after giving her son the same name as Alicia’s. Maybe she can hook up with Leonardo DiCaprio to develop a baby formula made from the powdered tears of actors who have never won an Oscar. Leo could singlehandedly keep the company afloat if he hands a case to every fetus he dates after their contract expires.
Second, how did Kate and Ned pass up the chance to use his legal last name of Rocknroll as a surname instead of naming him Bear Winslet? This is the most disappointing decision Kate has made since she refused to move the fuck over so Jack Dawson could have a chance at life. Think of the instantaneous Apple endorsement deal they could have had if they had named their baby iLove Rocknroll.
A couple of weeks ago, Kris Jenner dusted off her signature move, polished up another one of her turds (sorry, kturds) and flung it at a high-profile musician hoping it would stick in the form of setting Kendall up with One Direction’s Harry Styles. UK tabloids report that Harry has already packed it up and hightailed it the fuck out of Jentrashian shitstorm and is now dating Gavin Rossdale’s spawn Daisy Lowe.
Kris is supposedly pissed that Daisy fucked up her Kim/Kanye 2.0 plan and stole Harry away. If Daisy is smart, she’ll become fast friends with Leah Remini to get some tips on how to handle the wrath of religious zealots knowing that the High Priestess of The Church of Latter Day Taints is going to come for her ass. Nobody fucks with Kris Jenner or her ilk without doing it on camera for publicity, especially since ratings for their show are down. The last thing Daisy will see before her coffin slides shut is Kris’s face, who will be so pissed her face will ALMOST move.
If it wasn’t against the fame whore way, I’d guess Kendall is in a basement somewhere trading stories with Solange Knowles about failing the family, but this is PMK we’re talking about. Kris probably just dragged Kendall to their lip injection doctor as punishment, then smacked her upside the head and threw her out of the car at The Grove and told her not to come home until she had at least two dozen pap shots in the bank.
Here are some pics of One Direction at the airport after flying in for an SNL appearance. I can’t figure out if the guy hanging all over Zayne is helping him walk because he’s drunk or high or if the guy is just angling for an unsolicited piggy back ride. Fangirls come in all shapes and sizes!
Not to be outdone by Jaime Alexander’s rebirth of the most glamorous dress of all time, Britain’s “Strictly Come Dancing” contestant and model Abbey Clancy gave us the gift of the Slut Dress: The British Edition at London’s Fashion for the Brave event on Friday, November 8.
Even though the dress looks like Abbey dusted off her grandma’s best Union Jack table runner, broke into Johnny Weir’s costume storage locker and slaved away over her Fisher-Price My First Sewing Machine to make it, the dress was designed (on purpose) by Julien MacDonald. If you’re of the persuasion that if you’ve seen one slut dress you’ve seen them all, turn your attention to Julien, who might be the real star here. If designing stunt queen dresses doesn’t work out for him, he could always audition for an astoundingly low-rent Lifetime biopic about Siegfried and Roy.
If you’re going to wear something that shows almost as much as a scrambled soft core porno on Cinemax back in the day, don’t let it make you look like an amateur. Your side tits are already out, you may as well own it when your dress tries to quit a bitch and flash the rest of the goods. Abbey apparently didn’t see Iggy Azalea’s PSA about gluing your ho shit down to avoid flashing naglas or hatchet crack, because at one point, she had to cup her ass like a toddler who just dropped a load in her underwear after her parents took a gamble on taking her out in public for the first time without a Pull-Up.
On the left is RiRi at the Chanel couture show in Paris today. On the right is a front yard Scrooge statue holding a lantern. Had RiRi accessorized her old man nightgown with a nightcap and a lantern, and had a look on her face like she was searching the darkness for spirits, she would’ve won this. But she didn’t, so game point goes to the Scrooge statute!
Since we’re on the subject of old man nightgowns… (Note: I might’ve told this story before. Stoned messes tend to repeat themselves a lot.) When I was in the third or fourth grade, my school friends and I went door-to-door selling Helen Grace eggs during Easter times. One of my friends’ mom came with us and stood at the sidewalk while went up to the door. We went to this one house where an 80-something couple lived. The pepaw came to the door wearing a button down nightgown like RiRi’s, except his was short and burgundy. Ole’ dude should’ve kept a pair of chonies by the front door so he wouldn’t give his visitors a peek of his soft-boiled huevos when he answered the door. His wrinkled nuts were hanging out of his shorty robe. I don’t think he knew, but it was still highly inappropriate and ILLEGAL! We turned around and ran to my friend’s mom as though the face of Freddy Krueger was on that old dude’s nuts.
So when I see RiRi in a nightgown all I see are wrinkly white man nuts. Thank you for traumatizing me again, RiRi.
On the right is Michelle Williams after Edward Scissorhands did her up and on the left is an emo guinea pig who would care about Michelle stealing its look, but it’s too busy crying and dying on the inside.
Like I even need to ask who won this Hair Battle Spectacular. Michelle Williams TRIED IT and she can use those ode to Robert Smith hanging pieces to floss her top teeth or pick her nose if she doesn’t want to use her finger, but the emo guinea pig has this now and forever. If you’re going to work the emo guinea pig haircut, you have to at least look like you’re on the verge of crying tears of infinite sadness and that your life is a never-ending Smiths song. Michelle Williams is smiling! That ruins everything. But really, when are celebrities (I’m also talking to your ass too, Justin Bieber) going to realize that the emo guinea pig haircut only works when you’re an emo guinea pig!
Emo guinea pig, you won this round like you win all those rounds. Although, I doubt you care, so just shrug and go back to painting your guinea pig nails black.
Here’s Michelle, Kelly Bensimon, Giada De Laitstooearlyformetogooglethecorrectspellingofhername, Kate Mara and Maggie Gyllenhaal at the launch of Kate Young for Target in NYC last night.