We had a final rehearsal and sound check for etalk at the Oscars until around noon. I was upstairs on the balcony overlooking the auditorium entrance when Jessica Chastain casually walked down the carpet, with her hood pulled up and a pair of casual pants, no handler, no publicist, just by herself, with her dress hanging off one arm. Gorgeous.
I LOVE HER.
Which is why I’m reluctant. I’m reluctant to dump on her and her dress. What I wish I could do is enjoy her style. But goddamn it, there are so few opportunities. F-ck. I can’t understand it. Duana and I just spent several minutes on the couch trying to figure out why, like howwwww can it be that hard to dress Jessica Chastain?!?!
Duana says it’s the dress on the wife of the Chairman of the Fall Ball Committee. I say it’s the dress on the lady selling raffle tickets.
And, and, and, and, and…
Shame on Givenchy. Givenchy should never look like a backup, you know? If I had to imagine what happened here, I would say that her first choice fell apart, ripped, stained, whatever. And that this was the last minute replacement.
It didn’t get much better at Vanity Fair either.