It’s been a while since I’ve philosophized about recent celebrity/pop culture stuff, so let’s just get right down to it:
Golden Globes Wrap-Up—I think we can safely categorize the outfits/attitudes thusly:
1. Boobs: S. Johannsen-tolerable but a little to Elizabeth Hurley-style for my taste. M. Carey—um, whattup with the hamster hairdo? I thought Mr. Talley was all up in her business trying to make her look classy? What happened? D. Barrymore—real breasts need bras too. Mary Louise-Parker—acting like her brain was in her boobs.
2. Awards: Yay, Ang Lee! Yay, Johnny Cash!
3. Accents: Why did Gywneth Paltrow present the “AnTony Hopkins” award in a faux IRISH accent? Weird. And, it looked like she borrowed her dress from the “Emma” set.
I think that’s all I can muster for now. I did learn something interesting today—Pharell Williams’ first hit song was “Rumpshaker.” I believe it came out circa 1992 and the lyrics were as follows: “All I wanna do is run my zoom zoom zoom in your boom boom, just shake your rump!” or something like that. It had a weird middle-easterny hook.
Wow, my junk bin of celebrity nonsense is totally empty! However, for whatever snide comments I failed to make,you should find here at the most deliciously evil and hilarious site I have seen since Gawker--http://gofugyourself.typepad.com/go_fug_yourself/
In other not so interesting news, I am debating whether or not to renew my Vogue subscription. I mean, I like it—though, on occasion I get so misguided after reading it that I leave the house in odd outfits—but, it tends to depress me sometimes. Not the clothes, but the people they write about. And, I’m just not buying that recent covergirl Sienna Miller is “it” anything. Sure, she’s pretty, but she’s not, um, interesting or a particularly memorable actress and, she dresses like she just got overly inspired by believing her own hype as a fahion-plate. Also, I’m tired of reading about women who got their first Lanvin dress as a hand-me-down from their mother—or partied with Oscar de la Renta, or have some vintage Chanel shoes that they found in their grandma’s closet.
You know what was in my mom’s closet? A bunch of Chaus dresses—maybe an Evan Picone in there somewhere, navy blue suits, pointy high heels in a variety of colors, a kimono, approximately 2,500 no-name handbags and never-worn silk pajamas. The only designer names were on the perfume bottles. Oh, and depending on what year we are talking about, Candies platforms and tube tops. I suppose that is inspiring in some weird way.
Okay, I’m going to take my complainy-pants self off to bed. And remember, “all I wanna do is run my zoom zoom zoom. . .” well, not really, but I was going for effect.
Bizatching - 2006-06-30
I complain, therfore I am - 2006-04-30
Frankly, I'm a Bad Blogger - 2006-04-28
The Good, the Bad, the Wonky - 2006-02-03
WORK! - 2006-02-02
