critics-choice-a-thon day 2091: the red carpet

Award season is upon us, and we here at the gratitude-a-thon Department of Fashion (meaning me here at the gratitude-a-thon Department of Fashion) are here for it. Why? Because distraction is good. Say it with me, DISTRACTION IS. GOOD. It is. Pure and simple. So, giddy up, I’m getting on my critic-y horse and heading for the Hollywood hills.

Oh dear. Once again, the data for money and fame not being able to buy style are here and clear.

Devry Jacobs. The suit? The dress? The suit? The dress?

So, I get it. It’s a statement that we are all both. That we are all a little bit man, a little bit woman. Or that we might be male, and pretend we are female. Or that we are female in body, but male in mind. Or that we are male in spirit, but female in form. That we are not concerned with style, and we will go on a red carpet looking fucking ridiculous.

Anya Taylor-Joy teaches us the body parts.

On the runway it was called “The This is my Vagina Dress.” Pass the underpants.

Quinta Brunson. Don’t make me call your mother.

Damn, she looked so good at the Golden Globes and then she shows up wearing this absolute F-. The fit of the silver dress is lovely. Imagine if that black shit weren’t floating all around her, she’d be killing it. But as it is, she gets a failing grade. And a detention. And a suspension. And honestly, I am considering an expulsion, but this is pending the next award show.

Clair Foy, Ohboy.

She’s already so pale, did we really need that white band at the top? She looks a little like she just came off the beach in Waikiki and wrapped herself in a Hawaiian sarong. Not to mention, what’s with that caboose in the back?

Danielle Deadwyler gets into the kitchen supplies.

This is like that dream you have where you’re suddenly going to the Critics Choice Awards, and you realize you forgot to get a dress, so, out of your ever loving mind, you run into the kitchen where you get out the tin foil, which, fortunately for you, is the super big Reynolds Wrap version, and yay, you don’t have to go in your underwear, although it might have been a much better choice.

Sadie’s dress Sinks to the bottom of the pack.

It’s not really the worst, but……. Is that a Free People bandeau top or a beaded clutch bag under your sophisticated LBD?

Marcia NAY Harden

Giving her everything for her very shapely 63-year-old legs, but the length just looks off trend, and what’s with the bride of Frankenstein veil?

And the good ones.

Sheryl Lee Ralph. Tin foil done right.

I know, she might have gone to the same stylist as Danielle Deadwyler–the one who likes to use Reynold’s Wrap, but this whole look is a showstopper. The fit, the hair, the makeup. She gets an A++++ from where I’m sitting in the classroom.

Niecy Nash You Betts she is no rookie.

It is not easy to dress big boobs. And dress ’em in a strapless number–practically impossible. So, this dress on these boobs is not only a smash hit look, but a gravity-defying feat. I love the color, the soft hair, the whole dang thing is perfection.

Kerry Washington’s Flower Power.

If you know me at all, you know I love a daisy. I have daisy jewelry, daisy clothes and recently I even named my dog Daisy. So, this dress is a big yes for me. I don’t like how flat her hair is, and I wish she had on just a little more makeup, but God, this dress–I wish it were part of my decades-long daisy collection.

Amanda Seyfried goes gold.

This liquid fabric is dreamy. I love the way it falls. Pretty hair and a pop of red on the lip and she is not going to jail for this one.

Elle Fanning is the (Mc)Queen.

I absolutely adore the layers and layers and layers of this dress. It’s formal, yet that pretend rip gives it a super cool vibe. And she gets the perfect hair award for pairing it with that loose do.

Jennifer Coolidge. The Black Lotus.

Jennifer Coolidge has THE stylist to the stars. This black number hugs her in all the right places and her soft hair is much better than The Globes. Yes, I do love a black dress almost always, but this is just made for her body.

Ok, so wadja like? Wadja hate? Spill the tea.