The Oscars are this Sunday, which is my most-favorite slash least-favorite thing on television. Ever. On one hand I love watching glamorous people doing glamorous things and then getting up on stage and delivering the speech they have been practicing into a hairbrush, for decades, only to pretend the first thought of winning orossed their mind moments before. It’s like candy. The hard part comes the next day when social media is flooded with people who suddenly find themselves newly crowned fashion police, free to critiszie these actors, actresses in particular, for no other reason that they can. I don’t get that. Why is it fun to cut people down? Why is okay for someone to mock another person’s physical appearances, and then, as if that wasn’t bad enough, go on Facebook and ask other people to agree with them? AND PEOPLE DO. wtf.
That’s not a wtf-question-mark; it’s a wtf-is-wrong-with-you?’ rhetorical question. No mark.
My point is, less than a fraction of a percent of the people watching the Oscars have seen enough nominated films to sit in objective judgement, so we sit to gawk and star gaze. People watching. And because it’s much quicker to conjure an opinion on an outfit than a film, that’s what we do. We look at the dresses. It’s pretty shallow. I’m not going to feel bad about looking at dresses because people like me looking at dresses is what keeps Hollywood in business. People like me looking at dresses is what makes the Oscars special. That said, even if I don’t like the look of an outfit, I’m not going to be an asshole and criticize it. Not just because I think the person wearing the outfit deserves to be treated with dignity (which they do), or because women’s appearances are judged far more harshly than men’s (which they are), but because the garment — that dress — was designed by someone. With consideration. With talent. Is a dress art? I don’t know if it is, but I sure as hell wouldn’t argue against it with the person who designed it. Or the team who made it. Or the seamstress who stayed up all night mending it. Or the stylist who spent days contemplating its role on the red carpet. Artistry, creativity, takes man forms. To crush another person’s art for the fun of it isn’t cool. Do you know what it does to a kid when they see their mom making fun of another woman’s appearance?
Again, I digress.
Back on track: if you have never thought of a beautiful dress as anything more than a shield from the elements, think again…
As if Chanel wasn’t impressive enough, wait until you see this doll’s dress from Dior> Yes, a doll.
No flowers on this one from Dior, but it still took 200 hours.
Suddenly my Old Navy sweatpants are making me feel underdressed.
Happy Oscar night, everyone!