BAFTA Grammy Dress Disasters.


BAFTA Grammy: These two prestigious events exploded at exactly the same time yesterday, one in America and the other one right here in England.

Naturally this morning, the Daily Mail (as they always do) caused my eyes to suffer that special kind of pain that only comes from looking at the messy outfits some woman attendees thought were ‘cool daddy cool’.

I should have seen this coming, fashion disasters always come in threes. First it was the tragic looking shower sponge affair that Rihanna was wearing to the Grammys. I mean what was she thinking? She looks like a gigantic ethereal dandelion trying to be a pink grapefruit.

Then it was this ‘grandmother leave your dignity at home’ ridiculousness from Madonna. She’d have looked better opening a burlesque show rather than attending the Grammy awards. Seriously, Photoshopping the hell out of her face is one thing but this “My ass barely looks 29” is quite another.


And lastly there was this ‘nothing like dipping your toes in a pool of crazy’ from Mica Levi at the Baftas in London. I’m not actually sure what this is that she’s wearing. A spray-on fetish coat she found on the final clearance shelf at Offender Fabrics? Well this is what happens when you tear Vogue-era pictures of out of magazines and then hang them on your wall. You’re going to end up looking like a melodramatic school-girl disaster.


Regardless of whether their Bafta Grammy dresses looked like they cost £1,200 or £12 (that one) here are my last thoughts.

It’s a scientific fact that in show business celebrities can never look bad, so technically all these outfits fall into the category of ‘not exactly a hole-in-one’.

But sometimes a celebrity just has to say the hell with it, I’m wearing a weird dress that makes me look like I’m a reflection in the fun house hall of mirrors. And yes I’ll apply some dusty green garage doors to my eyelids and yes if I have time, I’ll finger-comb some dry shampoo through my hair in the limo because I’m LIGAF. (Or whatever the acronym for “fuck it, I’m only here for the booze” is.)

Finally. Even though these women have redefined the definition of war-pig ugly I can still appreciate that they were all brave enough to dress up like such damn messes.

I will always cheer for those who have the courage to say “the hell with it I’m going to dress like I’ve been snorting bath salts and watching Jeremy Kyle all day!”

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