I did not watch the Emmy’s Sunday night, but apparently, I missed a fashion shit show.
My friend Katie started to tell me about it at work Monday morning but then, well, work got in the way.
Finally, last night I was watching Fashion Police on E! and holy hot mess. Let’s just quickly recap:
Julie Bowen – RuPaul couture. Too much, gurl. Too. Much
Julianna Hough — Tinkerbell goes slutty. And badly fitted (boob smasher)
Claire Danes – starving ballerina couture. Please eat a sandwich and cover your chest bones.
January Jones — Flesh-colored boringness. And badly fitted (boob smasher)
Cat Deeley — Darth Vadar couture.
Lena Dunham – Ugly wallpaper couture. And badly fitted.
Zosia Mamet — Water colored-boob-bondage sadness. Also very badly fitted.
Jessica Pare — Rumpled taffeta boob-bow sadness. And those shoes! Ugh.
Aubrey Plaza — Walked into a full body spider web and then put some beads on it. Also weird boob action. Why do these girls hate their breasts?
Heidi Klum – semi-glamorous space alien. Reminds me of the aliens in Mars Attacks!
Anyway. While enjoying my Joan, Kelly and George (Guiliana is on a case-by-case basis with me), the scariest commercial came on right in the middle of the snark-festivities.
It featured a (according to the voice over) “thoughtful husband and excellent dad” playing golf with his daughter. And then out of nowhere, he starts talking about getting checked or vaccinated for hepatitis B. No explanation or anything. Just a warning from the Centers for Disease Control – Hep B is on the loose and Asian golfers with children need to watch the hell out.
Maybe that’s what afflicted all those dresses at the Emmy’s. Maybe I should go read up on the physical side effects on Hepatitis B.