I chose not to liveblog the Oscars this year because, well, I was too busy hosting my annual Oscar Snarkfest. Mr. H. came over and we chatted online with Cake Eater Sister Christi, who was having her own little Oscar Snarkfest down in Omaha. Good times, eh? Sure beats last year, when I was vomiting bile in the hospital. (Seriously, I did not remember who won what last year---or anything else about the ceremony, even though I watched it, in between throwing green stuff up and receiving a fresh IV. Pretty pathetic, even though I have a fairly good excuse.) Anyway, it was good to get things back to normal, so we had the usual artichoke dip, the mustard wings Mr. H. makes so well, the wheel of brie encased in puff pastry and plenty of other goodies. We settled in to watch and we had our usual snark fest. It was so delicious. Loved it.
Anyway, here's the wrapup, because I, of course, had some thoughts about what people were wearing. Some of it's good, and some of it's baaaaad---per usual.
While Cate was nominated twice, she went home empty handed. I can only think the humiliation of that was enlarged because she was wearing a muumuu. Now, don't get me wrong, it's a gorgeous muumuu, but it's a muumuu nonetheless and she should have known better.
At least she looked better than Jennifer Garner.
Oy vey. That dress doesn't do a damn thing for her other than make her look like a washed out dishrag. The hair doesn't deter much from that impression, either. But let's get back to the dress: I bet it looked pretty on paper, and on the mannequin, but on her? Nope. She's one of the few women in Hollywood with boobs---and they're natural looking boobs, which is good, because it means she's either got a really good plastic surgeon (and she should keep him or her on retainer, lest they get ideas and start banging on to go and fix clef palates for Doctors Without Borders, ala Sean McNamara) or she's a lucky girl in that she'd naturally endowed. So I have no idea why on earth she'd choose to squash them down. It looks like she's used to bandaging down her boobs to get on the boys football team, because she can throw a wicked long spiral (and she's got the guns to do it) and if only they'd realize that GIRLS CAN TOO PLAY FOOTBALL, all would be fine and dandy, but that she forgot this was the Oscars and she could, ahem, let the girls out to play because no linebackers were headed her way. She threw on a few diamond-encrusted bracelets to jazz up the outfit yet it doesn't really deter from this impression, but rather seems like she was overcompensating.
Fortunately for Jennifer, she was not alone in the boob-squashing department. Keri Russell had some issues with that as well.
Oy. This dress does nothing for her. The color is blah. As she's normally so pretty, she should rip it up and wash the floor with it as revenge. It doesn't fit properly, and as the Cake Eater sister (and designer extraordinaire) noticed, it was one of the few strapless dresses in existence that kept rising instead of sliding down, like they normally do. Apparently, according to Christi, she kept having to put her hands on her hips to keep the dress down while she was on the stage.
As far as fit is concerned, well Penelope Cruz should have paid a little more attention to the way her gown fit.
Yeah, you're thinking, HOT!, and NICE ASS! , so what the hell is my problem. Ok, well here's my problem. Penelope, sweet, tiny, weighs no more than 110 lbs. has back flab hanging out. It's not much in the scheme of things, and it's kind of a happy moment to realize that Penelope has back flab like the rest of us, but still. She should have ixned it for something else. That the thing has feathers on it, well, that should go without saying. Yeesh.
Getting back to colors that wash pretty women out, well, Cameron Diaz should have gone with something other than this Dior number.
It's a pretty color, yes. But it does absolutely nothing for her. It flattens her boobs, ala Garner. (And, as a related aside, how do they stand it? God, that's gotta hurt.) It washes her out, even with her surfer tan. And the back is well....yeesh.
That, my friends, is what the cool kids would say is a "hot mess." I can see where this would have looked good on paper, but they should've picked a different fabric, because, ahem, it needs to be ironed. Badly. Besides, it gives yet another skinny actress back flab.
Yet, it's still better than the European contingent who won the awards for best supporting actress and best actress, respectively.
Tilda? Well, I think we're beyond hope here. She's a striking woman, and while I appreciate the fact that it appears she deliberately chooses clothes that play up this characteristic, well, this is just ugly. There's no getting around it. It's period-nightgown shapeless, it's blah-black and it's missing a sleeve entirely. She should have worn the bracelet on the unadorned arm, just to give it some balance.
And Marion, well...fish scales as adornment? Eh? I get the whole It's-a-mermaid-dress-hence-it-should-have-a-fishy-theme, but, well, yeesh. While she totally pulls it off and manages to look GORGEOUS nonetheless, perhaps she should stay away from the Gaultier in the future, lest she get a reputation for this sort of thing.
It appears red was the color this year.
This is how you should wear red.
Here's another fabulous example of how to pull a red dress off.
Dame Helen could give lessons.
And perhaps she should pull Katherine Heigel over and tell her, Darling, never put on a dress with cutouts.
That and never let the red be orange-based red. You need purple-based red to make it really work.
All those aside, here's the worst dress of the evening---hands down. And it really kills me to do this because it's our own little Minnesota-Blogger-Who-Could, Diablo Cody, who wore it.
Oh, honey. You are smokin'. Who talked you into wearing this leopard print muumuu? You need to kill them immediately. Show no mercy. Because, while I'm sure it was comfortable, it doesn't do a damn thing for you. It made you look fat, and you're obviously not. Also, I don't think I need to remind you, but you almost pulled a Sharon Stone as you were walking offstage. You caught the damn dress before it did anything untoward, but you shouldn't have had to worry about that in the first place. I repeat: you are smokin' hot. Don't do this to yourself again, ok? You're better than this.
And, lest it be said, that we're not equal opportunity slashers here at the Cake Eater Chronicles, here's a man...
Ah, Daniel Day Lewis. Whom I adore and can pull a fascinating character straight out of his ass and make it golden. But he really needs a new tux. While I appreciate the fact that he's a man with a tux in his closet (because every man needs one) and the fact that he keeps wearing it over and over again signals something that's not the first thing you think of when you think "Daniel Day Lewis," which is practicality. I like the fact that he keeps pulling the same one out and wearing it, over and over again, but he should be pulling a normal tux in his closet, not one with brown piping along the lapels. He wore the same damn tux to the BAFTA's last week in London, and to the SAG's a few weeks ago.
It's beyond tired, bud. Put it away and never wear it again.
So, my devoted Cake Eater readers, did that do you? I would hope so.
Posted by Kathy at February 25, 2008 02:00 PM | TrackBack