Listen, I’ve got a lot going on in my life right now. So if my Oscars coverage has to stretch into April, then you will just have to fucking deal with it, my beautiful queens.
Oh, right, the Grammys happened!
Your Met Gala finale is here, dear readers.
From floral wreaths to spiky crowns to beaded hoods to halos, headpieces were the favored accessory of the evening. They’re so crown; bow down, bitches.
Every year, like clockwork, somewhere between a dozen and a score models take to the Met Gala in dresses that can only be described as UNDERWHELMING. They may be on theme, or they may not; they may be pretty, or they may not. But they all make me roll my eyes to some degree.
A toast to those who shot for the moon, landed amongst the stars, and promptly burst into flames. In all fairness, there were far fewer Valiant Failures this year than at most Met Galas, because this was the rare year where it was possible to hit the theme and still look kind of average. But let’s discuss those stars who aimed, but missed the mark.
Please, no loud noises or sudden movements. These stars have all suffered head injuries that caused them to believe they are attending the Oscars. They think they look amazing – and they would, on any other red carpet. But friends, the Met Gala is not the goddamn Oscars. (Though this year’s theme was a little more traditional-red-carpet friendly than previous years, I still can’t bring myself to put anyone in the Best Dressed post who didn’t really commit to the costume.)
Alright, dear readers. Hollywood’s biggest night finally comes to a close.
Let’s finish this damn thing.
Time to finish up our SAG coverage so we can move onto the absurdity of the Grammys!