So, let's talk Oscars. Fuck yea! No, let's talk about how much bullshit they are. I mean seriously if I hear about what Juliana Rancic (Rancid) thinks about Angelina's gown one more time I'm going to shoot myself in the face. The only thing faker than her Botoxed head is Ryan Seacrests heterosexuality. I mean, are you kidding?! And, don't get me started on Sarah Jessica Parker! God, love her but put away the poof! It's done! We get it! You're eccentric! You've pioneered women's fashion! Oh no wait, that wasn't you. That was Patricia Fields. Copy that?!My hatred of the Oscar red carpet and basically any other red carpet event stems from a lack of substance and a high octane rating of generic Barbie doll princess Cinderella crap. Sure, the dresses are nice, and I am in NO WAY undermining the intense precision and complexity that goes into making a couture gown but it's all a fake show; and the Oscars have come from a celebration of talent and film work to a who's who of who's wearing who. Granted, fashion has always played a major role in the publics obsession with celebrityism but give me something my brain can work with! I'm not the 30 something overweight dental receptionist having a meet-n-greet Oscar potluck party, gossiping about TomKat around the tacky Wal-Mart table setting.
I'm sorry, but I love it when I'm exposed to an art piece that makes me think and be stimulated. I want to see something that I wasn't expecting and combined with a beautiful wacky topping. I'm bored...period.
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