Silly hypothetical question time! So, you’re an actor or actress, and you’ve been chosen to present one of the awards on the big night. What do you wear?
I’d go with raggy, dirty jeans and a stained t-shirt myself – simply 'cause I’ve always wanted to see someone go up on the stage dressed like a slob.
Oh, and if by chance I recieved an award, I’d say a quick “Thank you, everyone!” and walk off – think of the shock and horror in the audience when they see someone not take forever thanking everyone!
I’ve often thought of things the same way, but if I were really nominated, I have a feeling I’d let somebody throw a tux on me, and I’d probably make a pathetic, rambling acceptance speech too.
But I know for a fact that I would flip Joan Rivers the bird. God I hate that bag of bones.
“Oh here comes Jack Batty down the red carpet. Jack, Jack, who are you wearing?”
“Fuck you, Facelift!”
Set your VCR’s, I swear I’ll do it. I guess I should get started on that career move first.
I’d wear the snazziest tuxedo I could find. I’d have an independent panel of 20 experts pre-judge that my outfit was the height of fashion and taste. In short, I’d do whatever I could to get some on-air time with Joan and/or Melissa Rivers, and then I’d pick my nose and flick it at them.
You can dress me up, but you can’t take me anywhere.
This was a hard one, but I finally came to a conclusion.
I would wear my silky purple nightgown with pantyhose and tennis shoes and every last piece of jewelry in my jewelry box whether it’s broken or not.
I often try on this ensemble before I go to bed and it gets more fetching every time I see it. I’ve just been waiting for the perfect occasion to show it off.
You just wish you were the height of fashionable elegance like me.
Me? I’d definitely wear underpants. Maybe a bra as well. And some clothes over the top. Dunno which ones.
aside: this board is really rather slow for me at the moment. When the thread finally opens I’ve forgotten what thread it is, and then when the reply finally opens I’ve forgotten what I wanted to say. I came to this browser window only knowing that it might be something to do with underpants.
And suddenly the board is like shit off a greased shovel. I like to think that bending down to my computer and shouting “BOARDS DOT STRAIGHTDOPE DOT COM!” at it helped
after asking rupaul for help, we have decided on a gold strapless evening gown. should i manage to win an award, get up on stage without sharing what is under the evening gown with everyone; i would say thank you take the little gold guy with both hands and hopefully get off the stage without knocking myself or the presenters out with the little gold guy.
I have already thought of this:
a deep red china silk gown of Regency style with gold embroidery and beading. I would have it made by my friend, Tracie Arnold of www.moviegowns.com because she’s a fantastic seamstress!
I would wear my hair up in curls with a gold ribbon woven into it, and a gold and ruby necklace.
I swear, one of these days, someone should answer Joan with, (when she says, who dressed you?), “Nobody, Joan dear. I actually fished it out of a dumpster.”
I would wear something by Carolina Herrera, my favorite designer (in theory, of course; I can’t afford one of her used hankies). Probably the first dress from her Fall 2002 Ready to Wear Collection, but I might also consider the fifth in line, with the red detail.
I would wear the first dress with a really fabulously long rope of diamonds that fell to my waist, simple diamond earrings, and a diamond cuff bracelet. Smoky eyes a la Gwyneth or Jennifer Connelly and simple, loose hair.
If I won, I would keep it simple and short. I’d probably weep prettily, but my eye makeup would stay perfectly in place. I might try to execute the two-fisted-heart-clutch/fingers-to-mouth/kiss-blown-from-open-palms appreciation maneuver, but I’d more than likely just blow a kiss as I left the podium.
I just wanted to say the posts made by the illustrious Jack Batty and the wondrous Tansu are the funniest damn things I have read in about five years.
I’m still pulling threads of mascara eye-boogers out of the corners of my eyes! Funny stuff there, kids!
[/screamlaughing hijack]
In reference to the OP:
I would wear the slinkiest, most devastatingly seductive, plunging black velvet evening gown the world has ever known. Train and all. Opera gloves, catch-me-f**k-me heels, real silk stockings…the works.
I’d have a team of makeup artists work on me for twelve hours to ensure at least twenty four hours of perfection…paparazzi and parties, you know.
I would rival Liz Taylor with the diamond necklace around my neck, and my hair would not look like my eleven year old daughter had done it after eating a bag of sugar. It would be carefully tinted (i.e. killing that skunk stripe on my head), and be regal and flowing, yet would probably shatter if it were touched. No sense in spending all that dough if my hair is going to flatten like Gwyenth’s boobs after ten seconds under the klieg lights.
Old Hollywood? Yeah…I think I could manage that.
[sub]And yes…I’ve had that little image in my head for a few years now. Hard to tell, huh?[/sub]
I’m thinking something like leather pants and a classy shirt. And huge boots that would make me just a little bit closer to acceptable hight. Those dresses that the chicks have to wear? Just, ick. I’d fall over so many times.
Oops, I forgot the most important accessory. All my necessities (money, smokes, lighter, lip gloss) would be stashed in the pockets of my adorable, simple black and white George Clooney wrist clutch.
By the time I’d be of Oscar proportions I’d probably have been anorexic for several years, so I’d be able to wear something like this:
Tight-fitting black leather pants; midriff-exposing crimson velvet top with long black satin overshirt; perfect hair, long in front, arced over face with fire-engine red tips; bellyring; pentacle; plain black leather choker; rainbow bracelet, celtic ring; jewelled pendant earring with ear cuff and chain, with a silver hoop on the other side; purple or black nails; black fedora; black dress shoes and socks (the only concession to formality), with anklet; a bit of foundation and mascara; and prepared speech about gay youth suicide (omitting references to sexual orientation of closeted mentors).
Oh – I just realised – by dressing up like a slob, I might just set off a new fashion craze…
Just imagine if everyone in Hollywood started going for the slob look! Maybe next year’s Oscars would be attended entirely by beautiful people in really disgusting, stained t-shirts and ripped, mud-splattered jeans!
Of course, they wouldn’t be real stained t-shirts – they’d be $500 designer shirts with “Authentic Looking” stain designs…
