You’re here because you love the awards. And you remember. You might not remember what your boss told you five minutes ago, but you remember when Gwyneth wore white Tom Ford to the Oscars. You remember Cate Blanchett’s butterflies by Galliano. You can recall, instantly, everything that Lupita wore last year and when – the red caped Lauren at the Globes, the turquoise beading at the SAGs, the pale blue Prada for the Academy. You don’t need to google. You just know.
How can anyone distinguish one Sofia Vergara dress from other?
If you want to go red on a red carpet, you better make it like Lupita because otherwise, nobody cares.
The ruching on the bust?
It’s happened already.
A mismatched shoulder?
I’m SURE she’s been there.
At some point.
That’s the point. I DON’T RECALL. Any of it. All of it. It’s a blur. It’s one tight, sexy blur. It’s the opposite of a fashion “moment”. Can we stop rewarding fashion syndication?