Dear Special Father,
Forgive me because it's been three years since my last confession/red carpet post. Also I'm not Catholic so I don't know what I'm talking about but this booth was unlocked so I'm in here now. Is this called a booth? Where we talk about what I did wrong? Stress cupboard? Regrets box?
Whatever it is, let's get regrettin'!
Time was when I lived for the red carpets and everybody walking on them in what they were wearing for fame and honor. I'd watch so hard all my muscles would ache. Saucer eyes, frantic notes, endless rewind. CLOCK HER BOW, CLOCK IT. LIP COLOR, LIP COLOR, WRITE IT DOWN, FOOL.
And then I'd spend fives and tens of hours combing photos and organizing them and thinking about flow and jokes and feelings and I would stay up until 3:00, 4:00, 5:00 AM to finish and hit publish as fast as possible so we could all rejoice together while we still remembered what an Oscar was.
But then I got a job. See, when you don't have a job you can do that! You can do that for free from love! When you do have a job, you can't do that for free from love because what if you also have kids. I'm not trying to speak for everybody, and certainly not about what people with or without kids can and cannot do. Everybody has their own thing that requires what it does. But after my job is also kids. So I don't have all the consecutive hours for the momentum these posts need.
And so I let the people down. I'm sorry, the people. The people enjoyed a red carpet post and I ceased to provide them for the people, even though I love and esteem the people and care about their happiness and what I can do to add to it, especially during these pungent times.
But what I have right now is
home from work
I feel like it
so here we are in a post-Oscar, flu-based, auld-lang-syne-vibin' harmonic convergence and it's on. Is it on forever? Nobody knows. Will I ever do it again? How should I know? But for now:
The first thing you should worry about when you're doing a red carpet post—which I never used to do because I was a buffoon and I didn't know—is photo rights. But now I'm more grown. This is where I started today:
And, uh, here's some of the stuff that'll allow me to talk about re: oscars red carpet 2018.
Mandy Moore seven years ago.
Danny and Angelica Huston at the 62nd Academy Awards WHICH IS PERFECTLY DELIGHTFUL TO REVISIT, I'M NOT SAD THAT THIS HAPPENED, BUT THE NEWSWIRES HAVE MAYBE GONE COLD ON THIS ONE
It couple Tom Cruise and Mimi Rogers, or "Crogers". Toogers? Is it Toogers? I forget because it's so right now I can't even remember. They're just now falling in love right this second. They haven't even taken this photo yet. (Severe shout-outs to the woman in white on the right who looks fantastic for whenever this is and also to the ultra-adorable, poofiest-feathered-hair, sideways-peeking creature perched on Tom Cruise's shoulder who is straight out of a Renoir painting.)
Adam Driver's gigantic face with this expression on it from the Star Wars: The Last Jedi premiere in Japan.
This wonderful photo of Lucille Ball from 1989, which let's stop a moment and analyze like it's today because it is today. Check the day. The way the goldy-topaz sequins go down while her goldy-copper hair goes up! (Be at ease. You're in the expert hands of a fashion and beauty professional.) The green, the green, eyes, eyeshadow, deepy deep forest green mock neck gown. Her iconic lip shape present and accounted for. How she appears to be all, "You say somebody's blogging about this in 2018? What's blogging?" AND SHE'S RIGHT FROM BOTH THE PAST AND THE FUTURE.
And the least helpful option of them all:
But I'm about to post a bunch of photographs from this very year. So what I'm gonna do re: all these photos I'm about to sin about, Father Regretbox, is maybe pour salt over my shoulders and hope for the best and not whistle in a theater or walk under any ladders and at the next full moon I'll put my laptop outside in a glass of water to purify what I did.
By the way, the image at the top of the post is by Alexas_Fotos, and what an evocative foto it is. It was tagged "red" and "carpet" and "woman" and "glamour", which all feels so true here. Who could it be? Is it an Anna Wintour sex doll? I am genuinely grateful to include it, in my own way. (The Mandy Moore photo was provided by Mingle Media TV and all the cool late-80s photos were taken by Alan Light. Thanks, Alan Light!)
EXPECTATION SETTING: SHAN'T COMMENT UPON HOW RIDICULOUS ANY ACTUAL HUMAN LOOKED IN ANY WAY, OR HOW BORING, OR HOW OTHERWISE OFF. I AM HERE TO CELEBRATE AND CELEBRATE ALONE. ONE OF THE REASONS I STOPPED MAKING THESE POSTS WAS THAT I NO LONGER GET EVEN A LITTLE BIT OFF ON PUTTING PEOPLE DOWN ANY MORE, AND I USED TO DO THAT A LOT.
Also, if you don't mind:
I understand that many of my favorites will not appear here because there is limited space and time and also due to the eye of the beholder.
Full name: ______________________ Date: ___________________
TABLE OF CONTENTS
PART ONE: CARPET FAVORITES
intermission: BLUE SHOW
PART TWO: AFTER-PARTY SMASHES
Let's flip to Part One. *extended page ruffling*
Lupita Nyong'o and Danai Gurira, aka Shock and Awe aka The Spring Awakening aka Humanity's Not Done Yet e.g. for christ's sake look at us we're just getting going.
Oh, no, absolutely. You might have thought otherwise but no. This is newer than anything you think it isn't. Salma Hayek's Disco Victorian Cameo Firefly Fairy that took this shade of lavender and made it not your grandmother asleep in a field of stationery is perfect.
You know Prince wrote a song about her, right? Called "Valentina", which is her daughter's name.
“Hey Valentina, tell your mama she should give me a call/ When she get tired of runnin’ after you down the hall/And she’s all worn out from those late-night feedings/and she’s ready for another rock and roll meeting"
So she has that in her bank account also. Try to subtract points and her Prince points swing in and undo all your math immediately.
Sculptural + a thing where it feels like it could be made out of satin OR leather, so maybe it's a special leather given freely from Technicolor blue satin cows that fall out of their skin when they feel like being pink now or what have you + Nicole Kidman so tall and knowing how and when to wield a bow + Big Little Lies WHY DO PLUS SIGNS ALWAYS HAVE TO ADD UP TO SOMETHING
see, remember this? bow knowledge.
We will now begin our exploration of vertical and horizontal.
Taraji P. Henson demonstrates vertical as soft, filmy, midnight sleeve waterfall plus also pointing up and also sexy.
BUT HAVE YOU EVER REALLY UNDERSTOOD WHAT VERTICAL MEANS? DO YOU ENOUGH? If you don't now, after Allison Janney, you won't ever and so you should go ahead and cancel vertical. That's five more dollars in your pocket every month for a service you don't even use.
And did you even need it? Is your understanding of anything anything anymore?
H O R I Z O N T A L
This could have been happening the whole time we've been alive. Andra Day walked out and decided it was a new her last name.
Moral: Nothing is the way you think it is. You've already done fifty things one way today that you could have been doing a whole other. I want you to drink your next cup of coffee off of a fuckin' plate and think about that.
Samara Weaving's dress is the first dress I ever saw that actually tastes like fruit to look at it. There's papaya in my eye-mouth and watermelon and blood orange and the window is open with breezes and I'm more hydrated plus a healthy touch of fiber.
I think what I want out of St. Vincent is for her to appear like this on my desk in the form of a rubber stamp and a pad of fresh black ink. That way when I pay my bills I can squish a little pointy, inky St. Vincent on the envelope and lift the whole proceeding up a little. (The mouth should only be outlined so I can draw the lipstick in with a red Sharpie.)
Eva Marie Saint is 93! 93! She's been married for 65 years but if she weren't married or if she felt like being married another way she could murder the dating scene. Swagical.
I haven't seen Phantom Thread yet—can't wait—but Lesley Manville's ice-cold clip from her acting nomination knocked me out and so does she. I love it when I can't figure out why I like a look. Gray and beige diagonal stripes that have an ethereal upholstery vibe from a the ghost of a terrible chair BUT SOMEHOW GREAT and with funnel clouds developing at her arms IN A CHARMING WAY—this reminds me of when my relatives in Finland would send me clothing and it was weird and ahead of its time but I knew it was good in a way I just...didn't...know. This is the same color scheme as the oversized sweater I got from them in 1982, before oversized sweaters.
Maybe more than anything what I get is bored, you know? So anyone who strolls in and does something different has an automatic cheerleader in me. Zendaya is spilling over everywhere with matte chocolate sauce that's a little more milk than dark chocolate and I myself when brown is involved in a piece of clothing like the coffee-est dark espresso brown best and it's all really pooling quite a bit BUT I'll take too much over too little. I think back to 1980 when all I wanted was to ride around in a brown VW Rabbit and then go home and watch Solid Gold. If I'd have seen this look then, I'd have hassled my mom to buy me a brown sheet and I would have toga'd myself up in it and borrowed some clip-on earrings and then stared at myself in the mirror for a few hours, maybe walked around the yard dramatically in it.
WHAT IS THIS YOUR MEMOIR
I used to be an actor OH MY GOD THIS IS YOUR MEMOIR and I would fantasize all the time about what I'd wear on the red carpet when the shit finally hit the fan. I'd be thinking hard about what would flatter my figure in a certain way and show these parts off and not show some other parts off and it was all about how could I make myself look conventionally hot as much as possible. What a sweet little baby I was. Can you imagine how great Maya Rudolph feels? Such a superchill screw-you to beauty hurts. And when she opens her mouth it's Maya Rudolph coming out of there which is twenty sparklers in every direction.
Emily Blunt is from Narnia. <3
The tones. The touch of blue at the collar, the blue-black velvet. Reflection in the shoes. Mahershala Ali inside it all. To honor this, we should probably be quiet and go listen to soft music, something as highbrow as we can muster. Something very dark blue. Your call.
*binkity binkity plonkity tink*
Is that the ice cream man?? Yeah! Get me a Timothy Chalamet. I love those. All vanilla with the chocolate hair and feet.
Why, James Ivory is the ice cream man and he only sells Timothy Chalamets! Original/DIVINE.
Agnès Varda. Obviously I'm not going to say anything to improve upon this. Hopefully you know what I stand for by now. But I do want to acknowledge what a revelation her hair is.
And nothing remains to be said about Helen Mirren that hasn't been said already. She's pure unattainable conventional beauty and she's aged exactly within the lines. In a satisfying way! Perfect things are satisfying, too! You know those photo montages of things that line up exactly with other things or things that fit/nest exactly inside other things? Helen Mirren!
Blue on blue, she's a segue to
Shout-out to that SET and everybody in BLUE against that set which was really the set to end all sets
-Tina, why aren't you talking about the actual Oscars more?
-because I was watching it in bed with the flu crumpled sideways over my pillow like a mangled Andra Day so I slept during a bunch of it
Kerry Washington but Rizzo but Dorothy's slippers-turned-sea creature LOOK GIMME A BREAK I HAVE THE FLU I CAN'T FIGURE OUT HOW TO SAY HER BUT SHE STILL HAS TO BE HERE
Difficult/successful bangs plus spiderweb twinkle antimacassar hurray
"Tell me the story about where Lupita Nyong'o comes from again, Mom?"
"Yes, child, she emerged one night from Kerry Washington's shoulder—"
"OH YOU MEAN THE ONE YOU DON'T KNOW HOW TO SAY—"
It might be abrupt to go from butter yellow to black like that but Sarah Paulson and Holland Taylor are in love and they want to be connected! You don't want her in no gloves and then they break up, do you?
Amy Adams is a tradition around here and she knows what I like and she gave it to me.
That shape is a BELL
and Janelle Monae just RUNG IT
and now school's OUT
and YOU are FREE