My mom requested a Golden Globes fashion recap. But, because you were unable to watch the preshow/show yourself, I've decided to send this note directly to you. It will be fresh and fun and shiny for you. For others, I've found my own reactions were not so far removed from the paid critics. That includes Joan Rivers. Mom, please enjoy.
|Amber Riley is as good as it get in this Oliver Tolentino|
|Angelina Jolie in Atelier Versace, January Jones in Versace (a dress that looked even more striking and less exhabitionisty live), and Kyra Sedwick in Emilio Pucci|
From top Left: Emma Stone in Calvin Klein, Catherine Zeta Jones in Monique Lhuillier,
Claire Danes in Calvine Klein, Mila Kunis is Vera Wang. Also, I want Emma's curves back. And red hair.
And these ladies looked wonderful:
|Melissa Leo in Marc Bouwer and Amy Adams in Marchesa. Both from The Fighter.|
A movie I'd recommend to anyone. Melissa is on the couch; she's blond, totally transformed as Dikey and Mikey's mother.
There were trends. I'm sure you've heard about them. Green! The "Sister Wives" sleeves! Pink! The big shoulders! I rather liked the matronly long sleeves - as seen on my top ladies, Leighton Meester and Angelina Jolie - but loved them most when they worked against their conservative-sleeve selves. I wanted them to sparkle. And so, like Joan Rivers, my be-all and end-all of the evening is Anne Hathaway in Armani Prive:
Little cellophaney copper plates, in motion:
This is one dress, though, that doesn't need to be moving to work.
She's a winner, no? Not only is she easy to enjoy the heck out of, what with that sass and wit, but she's at once glamorous and playful. That's quite the pairing. The only other actor-girl I know of that pulls that off regularly happened to be my greatest disappointment of the night. I'm not saying Michelle Williams was the worst dressed, but I am saying that I felt terribly let down by what she showed up in. It doesn't work for the occasion, is horribly unflattering (no support in the bust, plus an all over thickening effect), and is rather too nineties for its own good (as in, my nineties - the middle school years). Oh, well. I'm sure she'll step it up for the Oscars. She's just got to.
I wish I had a picture of my backpack from 6th grade. I believe there were a few ironed-on daisies.