And I mean that in more ways than one, because traditionally Vanity Fair has blinded us with covers so white you’d think they were ads for fluorescent lights in a snowstorm. Ever since the infamous #OscarsSoWhite hashtag was born back in 2016, Hollywood has been trying to diversify more. The Vanity Fair covers of late have also been partaking in that trend by spotlighting a variety of Hollywood stars who bring the American dream of collecting checks from playing make-believe on screen into full blown Technicolor.
In 2008, Annie Leibovitz shot a 15-year-old Miley Cyrus for Vanity Fair’s April issue in a very un-Hannah Montana feature titled Miley Knows Best. It made people feel a lot of things. Like one picture of Miley lounging on her daddy Billy Ray Cyrus that had me thinking, “I better achy-breaky-back away from my computer before I heave up all my lunch.” But the pic that got the most outrage was one of Miley holding nothing but a sheet over her chest. Miley apologized for the pic back then, but she’s un-apologizing now.
I’m so used to seeing Oprah Winfrey giving tons of high-energy excitement on the cover of O Magazine, that it’s a little weird to see her working such drabness on the cover of Vanity Fair’s annual Hollywood Issue. I know the theme of ever Hollywood Issue “Stars who forgot to pop an Ambien the night before and only got 2 hours of sleep,” and I’ll applaud Oprah for playing along. But you know there’s a part of her that wanted to drop Reese Witherspoon, rip off that black satin duvet cover to reveal a shimmering jewel-toned gown underneath, throw up her arms and crank a full-tooth smile behind a headline that reads “2018 Is Your Year To SHINE!”
We will all remember this day. My grandchildren will one day sit at my feet and ask “Gammy, do you remember when Vanity Fair called Angelina Jolie a liar by publishing a transcript of her interview?” And I will say, yes children, I remember. And of course I’ll be telling said story from a bunker 40 feet below the ground, because there’s no way Angelina Jolie won’t mentally trigger the apocalypse after this.
Vanity Fair put out their annual Hollywood issue and it’s a million times better than last year’s cover which had a bunch of actors looking like raggedy messes who just had a drunken orgy in the bushes after prom. But it’s not that hard to be better than last year’s cover. All Vanity Fair had to do was not put Channing Tatum wearing Amy Adams as a scarf on the cover and boom: Instantly better!
For this year’s issue, they took 13 actresses, dressed them in fancy funeral clothes, put them in front of Annie Leibovitz’s camera and said, “Okay, half of you need to look like you’ve fallen asleep with your eyes open and the other half need to look like you’re trying to push out a stubborn fart.”
My favorite one on the cover is Diane Keaton who looks like she wasn’t invited and masterfully photobombed them all. They’re all giving fashion FACE while Diane Keaton tries to kill their vibe by actually smiling. Diane Keaton, who looks like a cross between Charlie Chaplin’s mom and Mary Poppins at a wake, probably got the memo that she was supposed to look like a hungry goth but she didn’t care. Diane Keaton is you on 1st grade class picture day.
And the actresses in order are: Jane Fonda, Cate Blanchett,
Kate Winslet Jennifer Lawrence, Viola Davis, Charlotte Rampling, Rachel Weisz, Brie Larson, Alicia Vikander, Lupita Nyong’o, Gugu Mbatha-Raw, Helen Mirren, Saoirse Ronan and Diane Keaton not giving a fuck. Somewhere, Meryl Streep is looking at that cover like, “Awww, how cute,” because while those actresses pose for a little magazine cover, she’s out there accepting her 176th Oscar for just being Meryl Streep.
And here’s bigger shots of the cover as well as the individual pictures Annie took. I see that the theme of the individual pictures was “coming down after a 6-day bender” (see: Charlotte Rampling and Rachel Weisz).
As I said earlier, the Oscars were a boring dress parade and I’ve seen more exciting dresses at my mom’s office holiday party. Well, it looks like all the real glamour and demure sophistication was the Vanity Fair viewing and after-party. Not only was Joan Collins there with a wig hovering above her head like a glorious halo, but Crispo Ronaldo’s ex-piece Irina Shayk and the walking community theater production of RiRi’s life titled Rita Ora all wore hot outfits that let everyone know that they traded in their panties for a stick-on pussy patch.
Irina Shayk’s pantyhose dress thing is like the more modest and athletic cousin of that exquisitely classic, coochie-flashing gown that Jaimie Alexander wore in 2013. My only question besides “How many people were treated for elegance inhalation from being exposed to Irina?” is, “How did she piss?” Was there a discreet zipper involved? A snap-off thing? Or did the crotch area have a small hole where she could just stick in a Go Girl and handle it? Even if she couldn’t piss in that bodysuit gown thing and had to hold it all night, it’s worth it. Getting a bladder infection is worth bringing loads of ravishing glamour to the masses.
I bet across town at Denny’s Oscar viewing party, style icon Edy Williams raised a mug full of pink wine and soda water in the air and toasted to Irina Shayk and Rita Whora. Irina just needed more exposed nipple and a random dog, and her Edy Williams tribute would’ve been perfect.
And here’s at least 10 billion pictures from Vanity Fair’s party including pictures of Joan Collins and Monica Lewinsky (????).