Okay. The Oscars. I don’t care about the red carpet. Truly, TRULY I do not. Because all it ever is is an endless parade of skintight strapless mermaid skirt dresses. Over and over and over again. And then I get mad because every single adventurous, directional look gets put on the worst dressed lists. After looking at the photo service shots, all I could think of was “I only liked Tilda Swinton, but Heidi Klum was interesting, and Marisa Tomei was too, though a bit more predictable.” OF COURSE they all ended up on the worst dressed list. WHATEVER because there hasn’t been a red carpet reporter in the history of time who could tell Lanvin from a hole in the ground. THERE IS LIFE BEYOND THE MERMAID DRESS YOU KNOW. GOD. IT JUST MAKES ME SO MAD.
Do you know what ALSO makes me mad? This:
This is the lovely and talented Frank Langella and his daughter Sarah. First I want to say that I love that he’s got a normal-looking daughter and that he brought her to the Oscars, which must have been a huge thrill, and I love that she’s not wearing some overwrought mermaid mess.
This is Not a Good Look. At all. Really. AT ALL.
It’s Mrs Roper, but not in a good way. Also, there’s uh, support issues.
Okay. I’m just putting it out there. Breasts sag. They just do, and there’s no arguing it. You can be 19 years old and be more suited for a 36 long than a 42 C. It just happens. But you know what else happens? Bras.
I’m not saying jack them up to Jesus (COUGHsarahjessicaparkerCOUGH) just…you know, do SOMETHING. Breasts are like children. You can grow them yourself or buy a cuter pair in Costa Rica, but either way, they really do need healthy boundaries.