by MrsBing03 on Sunday May 8th at 9:40pm
I die. A million times. I anticipate the annual Costume Institute Gala as much as the next gal. Well, as much as the next gal who has been scouring Vogue since pre-breasticles times. The Met, the fashion houses displaying their finest pieces of art, the stunning celebrities flaunting their custom-made gowns (and connections!), the narcissism of it all... it's the best.
Two words: Proenza Schouler. I'll shock you all with my Stew love, I know, but could she be any hotter? She is sex. Sex just walking down the carpet, wearing that gown like it's nothing. It fits flawlessly, the cut and fabric. Sex. The red+black, the pattern. Sex. The booties are heaven (and also PS). Her jewelry and hair and makeup are styled to compliment the gown nicely. Maybe Hernandez+McCollough could have designed something a bit more cray (the gala did honor the fantastical Alexander McQueen this year, after all), but I have never been able to complain about anything that team creates. Seriously, I can't. (Speaking of those men, can someone get on a slash fic for me, prettyfuckingplease? We'll call it DesignerFic. GO.)
As for Ashley, well, tell me that her custom Donna Karan gown wasn't right for her body, and I'll tell you that I'm looking forward to her next film. I do think that it's a little plain for this particular occasion, but the length of the train works well for this gala. (Honestly, if I was invited to the Costume Institute Gala, I'd wear anything that any of those designers threw in my direction.) Also, her Atwoods were boring and I will not accept an argument. They were fine for a prom, maybe a wedding. They were NOT fine for THIS, #nopenotever. I will applaud her choice in clutch, however, post-gala. Bottega Veneta can do no wrong, so you go on with your bad self, Ms. Greene.
Until next year, I leave you with these.