I mean, for instance, I have always wanted to wear a gown that was half-pinata to the Oscars, so that I could pack a couple of decent-sized bags of Tootsie Roll midgies to snack on while staring at the back of Clooney's head and making up bawdy limericks.
I'm just... confused. What is that sparkly beige bodice doing on this Purplesaurus Rex lei of a dress? Am I going mental? Zoe's smile here looks suspiciously like a grimace; I think maybe the bottom of this dress is holding the top hostage and she's just issuing a silent scream for help.
I have also always wanted to turn snakeskin into asphalt and then roll it out into a big o'l caftan, put on Elizabeth Taylor levels of eyeliner, and mix myself martinis while listening to Petula Clark records. (Note: I have no proof that Nicole Richie was actually doing any of this before the ceremony. I mean, except for the caftan and the eyeliner, obviously. And I must commend her on taking my advice to eat, like, fifty meatball subs. They look well on you, Nic. Keep it up.)
Okay, so, FACT: Diane Kruger is hot as shit.
Also FACT: She is dating Pacey Witter and therefore she has WON AT LIFE. (If you like it, Diane, put a ring on it. For real.)
So I guess she can totally be nonchalant about her cat using her Chanel couture as a scratching post. She's all, "Ain't no thang, bitches. I might look like I'm molting, but at least I'm not trapped in a cult and saddled with a baby, unlike some people I know (cough, Joey Potter, cough)."
Hey, what has two thumbs and hates Miley Cyrus?
This girl! I know, I know, she's only sixteen and I should pick on someone my own size--preferably someone who remembers to put shirts on when attending globally televised events. Because seriously, what is that top? It looks like a Maidenform corset from the 50s. What hath John Galliano wrought?
Okay, so last night my mom and I fought over Jennifer Lopez's dress. My mom loved it. I did not. When I first saw it on the red carpet I thought it looked stiff and kind of sticky, like it was made of damp ShamWows or congealed cotton candy.
Turns out I was pretty close:
It's styrofoam! Right? No wonder she looks so awkward in this photo; I would be too if I was dressed in the stuff microwaves came wrapped in.
And it gets even more awkward, you guys. Amanda Seyfried wore the same exact material.
Luckily she was able to quickly distinguish herself as the one whose boobs looked way more like a shoehorn. Crisis averted!
Confession time: I actually loved a lot of the dresses this year. Very sadly there were no Bjorktastrophes, not even ol' Rose Boobs Theron (see previous post). But you don't want to hear me gush about how great Helen Mirren or SigWeave or Gabourey Sidibe or Kate Winslet looked, do you? You want the smackdown. And I'm totally ready to give it to you (if you'll wait just a sec for me to reapply my Persa-Gel).
This last one kind of saddens me, because I love SJP. I can't help it. I'm totally a Carrie, y'all.
I must admit that at first I thought she kind of rocked it. Does it resemble something Ladybird Johnson might have worn on Roman holiday? Granted. But she looks so happy and it's the color of butter, my favorite food, and I kind of dig the retro vibe even though it has no waist and she is pulling it up because it is obviously too long and the flowers on the bustline are the color of week-old dishwater.
But then I saw the side view:
Suddenly this woman is seven months pregnant, and an asteroid has hit her squarely on the thuttocks. This is not, I fear, the look she was going for.
So... who did you hate? Who did you love? Let me know in the comments!
P.S. I'm sorry I haven't posted photos of all of the great dresses (there were many). I'm just super tired and "thuttocks" was all I had left. Believe me, had I continued this would have spiraled into gibberish peppered with upside-down Spanish exclamation points and all-caps mentions of RYAN REYNOLDS.