Lena Dunham has said 9.6 billion times that she’s proud of her body and doesn’t care what people think of it. What she does care about is when someone tries to mess with a picture of her body in post-production. Lena has slapped at magazines in the past when she thinks they’ve pulled a cut-and-paste fast one on her body. This time she’s clapping long and loud for Glamour magazine for choosing to not Photoshop out her cellulite.
During the red carpet portion of the Golden Globes last night (aka the part where I double-check that I have enough cans of Wine O’Clock to make it through the night), Chip and Dale’s long-lost sister Lena Dunham admitted to wealthy elf Ryan Seacrest that she would not be following the evening’s events on Twitter, because she had deleted it. Sort of a weird choice for someone who really likes to share everything with the world. But Lena explains that she did it because she was tired of people using their 140 characters to hiss rudeness at her:
“I deleted Twitter because I’m trying to create a safer space for myself emotionally. People threaten my life and tell me what a cow I am, so I decided I was going to [cut that out]. So I check it occasionally, but it’s not the same co-dependence that Twitter and I once shared. There’s a lot of people I love on Twitter, but unfortunately you can’t read those without reading deranged neocons telling you you should be buried under a pile of rocks.”
Ryan then responded “You should see what they say about me.” I’m sorry Ryan, but if you didn’t want people dragging you online, you should have never released the Hooker Kraken (the Kardashians) unto the world.
If I was getting non-stop death threats, I’d probably delete Twitter too. The only problem, Lena didn’t exactly delete it. In fact, she Tweeted a clarification shortly after to confirm that she only sort of deleted it:
That sounds like a system I could use in my own life. As someone whose tweets are riddled with spelling mistakes and really aggressive all-caps rants (“HAM SANDWACHES CAN SUCK MY ASS“), I could use a proof-tweeter. Then again, they’d probably quit after my third Tweet about Bruce Jenner. I don’t blame them.
And the only clarification tweet I really needed from Lena Dunham was the one explaining to my dumb ass what a “deranged neocon” is. Is it an evil Transformer? It’s a Transformer, right? Yeah, I should read more. Here’s more of Lena at the Golden Globes last night looking 900% less like a melting cake than she did at the Emmys, as well as the other girls from Girls.
The Glamour 2014 Women of the Year event was held last night in New York (hopefully it didn’t interfere with Cosmo’s Excellence in Pleasuring Your Man Awards), and one of said women being honored was Lupita Nyong’o, because – duh – she’s great. And to celebrate being crowned Best Woman or whatever, she rolled up to the event – chill as fuck – wearing a pair of formal bike shorts. Lupita don’t give a hot damn about a fancy gown! Lupita dresses for comfort!
As I mentioned yesterday, wearing clothes is hard, and sometimes you just want to keep it casual and let your down-low bits do their thing. Sometimes that means saying “Fuck Spanx!” and wearing a dress like a deflated hot air balloon, and other times that means pulling on a pair of shorts. I always wear shorts under my shorter skirts, for two reasons: so I can sit with my legs open when I start to get tired, and to ensure that no one catches a glimpse of my bits when I do so. Obviously Lupita feels the same way. But she knew that being honored with a Glammy calls for wearing something a little more formal than a pair of cut-off leggings, so she churched up a pair of white shorts with some rhinestones and beads. Leave it to that flawless bitch to be able to sit with her legs open and look classy as hell while doing it! Lupita truly is the woman of the year.
Here’s more of Lupita looking like a futuristic bike messenger bride at the Glammys last night, and more women at the Women of the Year event, including Jodie Foster, pussy lobbyist Amy Schumer, and the human definition of WERK IT HUNTY, Laverne Cox.
This is doing bad, bad things to my hangover. All those fugly patterns. It looks like the scrap bin at a Jo-Ann Fabric got explosive diarrhea.
At last night’s 55-hour-long act of violent torture we call the Emmys, almost everybody wore a yawn of dress that should only be worn at a Christian high school prom in the South (see: Carrie Underwears), so Lena Dunham gets points for trying to be different. But this is the wrong kind of different. This is some “trying to look as messy as possible by wearing a tablecloth from the home decor section of Burlington Coat Factory” hipster shit. That hair looks like it was cut with safety scissors by a pre-schooler with severe ADHD and it makes her look like the words “by Mercer Mayer” should be over her head. And that dress. It’s like she went to Prada, who made this shit, handed them a picture of King-Size Homer’s muumuu and said, “Give me the gown version of THIS!” It looks like a tent and I bet if you peeked in there, you’d find 4 Brooklyn squatters sharing a roach joint in there. But I do love her eye makeup, because it makes her eyes look like cicadas shedding their shells. If all else fails, make your eyes look like a scene out of Planet Earth.
Here’s Lena and her mom paying tribute to St. Angie and James Haven by kissing lips on the red carpet and also pictures of Zosia Mamet, Allison Williams and Adam Driver.