Oscar Fashion 2014: Tripping With J.Law

I don't post during Mercury Retrograde-in fact I try not to do anything during Mercury Retrograde. I prefer to hibernate in my room curled up under a pile of furs while Marianne Faithfull sits in the corner and sings Witches Song repeatedly and occasionally spritzes me with an alternating blend of Lys Mediterranee by Frederic Malle and Chanel Sycomore. She's also there to make sure none of the candles set anything on fire. I love Edie Sedgwick but there's a limit. 

Anyways Mercury went direct just in time for Marianne to bang the ceremonial gong and wake me from my slumber so that I was ready and drunk and wearing Valentino for the most important night of the year on television: THE OSCARS.

I freaking love the Oscars. I love the winners, I love the losers, I love the clothes, I love the fact that the gift bags are worth more than most people make in a year. I love that they are "#aspirational" and make anyone feel like they can achieve anything, when in reality most of the time they can't. I also love that J.Law pulled a J.Law and tripped over a cone. This just goes to prove the power of The Secret: I put it out into the universe that I wanted to her trip again at an award show because I thought it would be funny. Not only did I get my wish, I got a better wish: her falling in Dior again at the Oscars again. I must be a really good person for such nice things to happen to me.

Speaking of Dior: fashion. (that was the best transition I could come up with on such short notice). Let's cut the crap and talk about what really matters: fashion.

 

Lupita Nyong'o

I cried at how beautiful this was and I don't cry. Do you hear me? Lupita made me feel emotion and I NEVER feel emotion. I also almost NEVER like Prada but I guess it's possible to have a change of heart. Thank you for being my Cindy Loo-Who, Lupiterella. I salute you.

Charlize Theron

 Sometimes I get our identities mixed up and I think I'm Charlize, Charlize is me, and that blue actually is the warmest color. Charlize, you and I both look amazing. Good for you and good for me.

J.Law

As soon as Ellen handed you that pizza I was like "girl is gonna get sauce on her couture." This Dior reminds me of Cruella DeVille's nice, animal friendly, younger sister...or something else that makes more sense.  You also look very...mature. I'll just leave that there for you. Try not to trip over it. 

Penelope Cruz

A lot of dresses got stuck on planes because of the weather in LA (it rained), and I think that's what happened here. Poor Penelope's gown got delayed on Roberto Cavalli's private jet so instead she Macgyver'd one out of a bed sheet. Someone get this woman a badge for crafting. Then get me another drink.

Cate Blanchett

I love this, I love her, I love the fact that her husband is visually a 2, and I love that Sandy Bullock looked pissed when she lost. Congratulations Cate, you tall flute of champagne, you.

Sandy B.

Honestly, I just don't care.

Olivia Wilde

I never thought anyone could look so good pregnant that they would make me want to try getting knocked up. I guess there's a first time for everything. 

Kate Hudson

I can sum up this look in three words: Disco Mummy Goddess. Make of that what you will.

Angelina Jolie

I'm torn because Angie's skin was GLOWING and her hair was shinier than Kate Middleton's, but this dress made her look like she was about to celebrate her 75th birthday. Still, she looks damn good for a septuagenarian.

Amy Adams

I love Nicole Kidma-I mean Amy Adams' dress. I want her to be wielding a riding crop, riding side saddle on Harvey Weinstein, and telling Christian Bale to stop acting so smug.

Kristin Bell

She's like a whorish mermaid bride circa 1899 which normally would be fabulous except for the fact that her hair makes her look so old she may as well have been alive in 1899.

Julia Roberts

You look like the table cloth at a wake.

Anne Hathaway

I just don't like you.

Portia de Rossi

I love this but something is off...I think it's her face.

Anna Kendrick

I don't get it.

Chrissy Tiegan

Just what the fuck. You aren't in 8th grade, lose the damn pink flower petals.

Liza Minelli

I honestly can't put my feelings into words, so like any proper Taurus I'll put them into objects: medication and paintball. Divine that, bitches. Oh and IT'S LIZA WITH A Z.

Jared Leto

I'm kind of disappointed we didn't get another inspiring man bun, because that thing was a game changer, but you still look like the version of Jesus I would worship if I had any inclination to worship anyone or anything besides myself. Also your brother is pants-dropping hot.

And to the most fabulous person of the night:

Judi Dench.

Bitch is too hardcore to even show up. Rock on Judi, rock on. 

Now someone bring me a box of snakes. 

Love,

Patty

p.s. I have no idea why the font is different. That's not on me.

Moving Apartments Is For Objectifying Turkish Oil Wrestlers

I know I still haven't finished telling you all about the couture and the places I am now banned from in Paris, but I returned to the states earlier this week (I got a full police escort to Charles de Gaulle Airport...what with being forcibly deported and all) and have had to deal with moving apartments which is just so middle class.

The effects of moving on otherwise sane people.

 

Of course I'm not really doing any of the work; I hired a bunch of burly Turkish oil wrestlers to do it while I sit on my couch drinking pinot grigio straight from the bottle. Basically I watch them bending over time and time again, their muscles bulging and...well, it's been a surprisingly relaxing experience. There was one awkward moment when they accidentally broke a 1,500 year old Ming vase that mom bought me for an ash tray, but these things happen. Plus I got a free slave out of it for the next six months.

I gave them a lot of breaks because I'm a nice employer like that; the only caveat was that they had to be shirtless. The whole time.

In the meanwhile here are some things I've been thinking/doing/watching/listening/reading/loving this week:

Jared Leto's hair.

That basically sums it up.

TTYL bitches,

Love,

Patty

Stop it Miley. Stop it.

So I was planning to attend the VMAs Sunday night, but one of Rihanna's gays sent me this photo of Miley on the red carpet, and I automatically told my driver to turn around and head straight for the rooftop at the Jane because I needed to feel safe and secure.

I feel like it's watching me.

Anyways, I made friends with my vodka tonic and was feeling much better, but then someone happened to be streaming the show on their ipad (I still don't know why there was an ipad at the Jane) and I saw this:

I ordered another vodka.

Then this happened:

And I ordered three tequila shots and wondered what was wrong with the world. Fortunately I don't think I was alone:

Lol Zayn.

But despite Miley doing her worst there was one thing about the VMAs that made me feel really okay in a way that nothing else but GOOP has in a long time: 

Look it's Jesus!

I have a new hairspiration. Sorry Kate.  

To celebrate my restored faith in humanity I automatically prank-called Heather Locklear pretending to be Angela Merkel. Heather is now on her way to Germany under the assumption that she is going to be attending a state dinner and giving a speech on starving children in Africa before half the world's diplomats. Ha. I had to get her back for sending me all those bees.

Have fun in Germany, Heather!

Love,

Patty

All images courtesy of Getty and Heather Locklear's choices.