Tuesday, August 26, 2014
Today I am grateful for Awards Shows. Mostly because of the dresses! When else can a chub like me sit and diss about how she’s showing too much cleavage, or that one should put a damned barrette in to keep her too long bangs out of her lip gloss?
I record all of the award shows. That way I’m not forced to listen to some idiot banter on about all of the people who “made me what I am.” Face it pal, a lot of it was dumb luck, otherwise all of us dreamers would be there standing in your exact spot. Shut up and move on to the next dress. Fast Forward. Bring on the babes! Oooo, what was she thinking? You’re a size 0, honey! Zero! Null! Nothing! And you’re wearing enough RED fabric for twelve of you. A bit overpowering, don’t you think, babe?
I have never seen the show “Orange is the new Black” but, ah, note to designers. . .when using orange and black together the eye immediately thinks pumpkins and Halloween. I’m not against a plunging neckline, but honey, when you’re “girls” are no longer able to pass the pencil test and can clutch a log without it slipping out, give it up. No, yank it up. Which brings me to yanking. If you can’t wear strapless without tugging on that sucker every time the camera is on you, then don’t. And stay away from the bandeau, uni-boob bodice. It’s not flattering on anyone. If you’re too skinny, and most of you are, you will look like you’re wearing an elbow ace bandage. If you’re too chubby, like me, too much will be trying to stuff into too little a space and the fallout will be nuclear.
Speaking of chubby, it’s always nice to see a couple of full-figured gals sporting fashion. It takes guts to be big and wear white chiffon, and sleeveless, even if you aren’t expecting a win and wind up in the back row while the tuxes speak prophetic. If you got it, flaunt it. . .within reason. Wear color. It’s okay. Black will not make you look like you’re a size 10 anyway so go for it. Or wear a flowing printy, caftany thingy, like Kathy Bates did. She can play me in the movie of my life any day!
I’d also recommend avoiding styles that incorporate engineering into the design. Sophia Vergara is gorgeous, but oh my. . .that bodice worked HARD! That bodice worked overtime. That bodice should get double-time-and-a-half! That bodice must have been exhausted by the end of the night. An erector set made that bodice. There were probably thousands of “erector” sets watching, too, praying for an engineering malfunction of Brooklyn Bridge proportions!
I’m glad it’s not the 60’s and 70’s anymore. I got sick of everyone trying to look like they just hopped off the VW bus from Woodstock and couldn’t be bothered with something as meaningless as an award because Mother Earth would not be pleased. Blch! Boring!
Gimme the glitz, the exotic designs, the actually styled hair, the makeup, and the shoes. I want the whole magilla. Then give me good posture. Because without that you all look like schlumps anyway. Without posture you might as well be wearing off the rack and I’m not talking Sophia’s rack! My favorite dress at the 2014 Emmy’s was Katherine Heigl. Simple. Beautiful neckline. Elegant. Smashing. And good posture.
I cry at award shows. Every one. I always cry when people are seeing their dreams come true. Always. I want my dreams to come true. I cry over that, too. I watch the writers, who no one cares about accepting awards and I know, just like they all know, that the actors would be nothing without them. Nothing. It all starts with a good story. And the camera man and crew and people who scout locations and feed them. . .everyone is important and they know it which is why they yammer on and on while I’m fast forwarding. I get it. I just don’t want to listen to it. But I’ll do it, too, when I win.
I am grateful for awards shows, so I can start designing my dress. Purple, I think. Or maybe a deep green which would make my eyes look greener. Simple, comfortable, not clingy. Not sleeveless because I wouldn’t want my condor wings to hurt anyone on my way up the steps. I’m not injecting lips or taping down body parts. I’m wearing flats with a dress long enough to cover them. . .Or maybe pink. No one wears a nice pink. I look good in pink. And in my awards speech I’ll be thankful for all of you. Because you knew me when.