I commence this year’s Oscar fashion criticism frenzy with Kelly Osbourne in Tony Ward Couture because this is the dress I stared at longest and ultimately found most controversially interesting among a thicket of bland and boring looks. 
Was Charlize exquisite in Dior Haute Couture? I guess. Is it memorable? No. Am I bored? Very. Is she serving a little Sharon Stone with that hair and smirk? Yes. 
Aniston possesses a rare talent for making Valentino look like the Macy’s Prom Collection. Stand up straight bitch. 
This tin-tittied mess is Anne Hathaway in Prada. Nobody noticed the diamonds, that’s for sure. 
When I see Halle Berry in this Versace, I want to pronounce it Versayce. 
I despise everything about Amanda Seyfried in this Alexander McQueen: the bridesmaid hair, the pageant pose, and the washed out non-color of the firefly patterned gown. 
Jessica Chastain has truly never looked better in impeccably-tailored spiderweb Armani. 
I don’t love Melissa McCarthy in this ill-fitting David Meister, but I will always love Melissa McCarthy. 
Jennifer Lawrence lacks a style identity. I suspect Dior hands her a dress and she obediently wears it. 
One of the best dressed of the evening, Octavia Spencer looks fantastic in this soft pink Tadashi Shoji.
A wrinkled mess, Kerry Washington served some sorbet Miu Miu. It’s too long, no?
I don’t get dead-eyed Kristen Stewart in Reem Acra. I know she makes some bitches swoon, but to me she is not everything. Can she close her mouth? What’s up with her constant open mouth? It’s creepy.
This Louis Vuitton just doesn’t fit Reese Witherspoon, and the fabric isn’t modern. 
Nicole Kidman wore L’Wren Scott and I think we can agree it was a decent choice for her. It’s a little fussy for my personal taste, but she wears it well and looks luminous. 
Let’s finish with the couples: Naomi Watts wore Armani Privé. Armani far and away fit the best dresses of the night. Ben & Jen, she in Gucci, but it doesn’t matter what she wears because nothing pops on this girl. 
I confess I’m spending another weekend on the mat at a yoga retreat. I know, I know, I’m not Jennifer Aniston. 
My good buddy is coming into town and we are going to spend the weekend working our practice for 6 hours a day. Some of you stopped reading right there. 
We’ll bend and twist in so many obscene ways. Here are a few of the poses we’ll play with in case you are morbidly curious…
By now you’ve heard that Jen and Justin got engaged. Why does their whole relationship smack of desperation? Justin’s desperate to elevate himself to A-list relevancy and wealth. Jen’s desperate to officially lock down a man before the tabloids permanently assign her the role of the heartbroken, left-behind spinster. Can we expect a Mexican wedding? Aniston loves her some Mexico. Though some say the couple has already scouted locations in Greece. Do we trust him? Fuck No. We want pre-nup. 
As an occasional watcher of Basketball Wives, I sadly wasn’t at all surprised to catch word that Chad allegedly head-butted Evelyn after she confronted him over a receipt for condoms. He was arrested and charged, and has since been released from his contract by the Miami Dolphins. Evelyn suffered a gash on her forehead and has apparently moved out of the couple’s home. The two got married about 5 weeks ago. Real messy ya’ll. 
This week on “Tori Spelling’s New Career,” Tori fancied herself a professional party planner. Apparently, publisher Simon & Schuster’s got a rock hard boner for Tori’s party planning book. She beckoned her homoservant James to pull together three fake photoshoot parties for the book, and assigned Dean to organize an actual Ghostbusters-themed 4th birthday for Liam.
The subplot this week centered on hiding Tori’s first trimester pregnancy from the outer circle. Intel on Spelling’s womb is apparently so sought after she cannot murmur a word to anyone for fear that her secret would be splashed across the pages of US Weekly without a payday. While she claimed to want to keep the news on lock, her persistence in wearing unnecessarily indicating maternity garb made it seem as though she was both encouraging and enjoying the speculation.
The true Tori emerged on set during the photoshoot for her party planning book “Celebratori” (vomit). Someone staged a shot that Tori didn’t care for, and she turned on her best Beverly Hills bitchery to remind the photographer that Mz. Spelling prefers to serve her sparkling water in a pitcher, not a milk jug.
The staged spa party was as clichéd and tired as you can imagine. The idea was an inexpensive DIY spa night, but between the flowers, booze, beauty products, and baked goods, it would be cheaper to go to the spa.
The second fake party was themed “game night.” Yeah, I know, she’s a ground-breaking party-planning genius. Why hasn’t someone given this girl a book deal?
While shooting the ultra-pivotal dessert table, both the sweets and Tori began to melt in the southern California sun. She and James bickered over details and mistakes. The argument escalated to a full on cake debate and concluded with James storming off in a puff huff.
The next day James and Tori kicked around sand and made easy amends in the desert. They exchanged apologies over losing their patience the day prior. Then they set to work on staging a fun but unrealistic “old west party” which culminated in a marshmallow roast.
While Tori shot the book, Dean planned Liam’s Ghostbusters party. Of all the parties, Dean’s party for Liam was actually the most creative. He handmade Proton Packs that shot Silly String, and he constructed and painted a haunted house for the kids to enjoy. Where’s Dean’s party planning book?
After fussing to the photographer over whether she looked preggers in the photos, Tori divulged to her mother the news of their expanding family. Candy looked surprised, but painted on her best happy face. Tori looked satisfied by her response and the two shared a rarely seen tender mother-daughter moment.
Tori wrapped the book shoot with a 70′s Caftan Party complete with fondue. They shot in a house that looked a lot like Aniston’s recently sold overpriced shag pad. Post-shoot, Tori gathered the gang for a toast and shared the news about the latest McDermott. The next morning the parents informed Liam and Stella that soon a new sibling would join them as two of Hollywood’s most exploited children. Mazels all around.
Circumstances beyond my control forced me to give up yoga for a little over three months. I’ve recently returned to my mat and can’t believe how much my practice has suffered for the absence.
First I noticed the weakness in my feet. Strong feet are the first to go. Balancing series that were once no problem are now fireleg starters.
The hands, another key foundation, also suffered atrophy. Blame weak hands for slippage during downward facing dog. My core is jello. Tight quads rebel. My stressed muscles have stiffened and weakened all over.
Thankfully the resilient body recovers quickly. Each day I regain a little steadiness. Now I know, the practice won’t wait. There are no breaks. Do yoga everyday and it will improve your life and your body. It may sound like some bougie Jennifer Aniston granola bullshit, but it is 100% true.
Hey friends, DC loyalist Leah Love wrote asking about giving good gams. Her letter appears (with permission) below.
Getting directly to the heart of your question, air stockings, liquid pantyhose, called by whatever name, are a great option for camouflaging veins and minor imperfections. Different formulas have different finishes, so personal preference will guide the selection. These products are not self-tanners. They are similar to bronzers, but typically provide better coverage and are less slippery on sweaty summer days. For best results, dispense product on hands and then rub into legs. 
Body bronzers are another alternative: temporary like liquid stockings, but with less coverage and staying power and more moisture. This group is best for evenings out as they many contain shimmer that can be a little much for the daytime. 
Here are some pricey but decent options: Nars Body Glow, 
Michael Kors offers Leg Shine and Tarte makes Glam Gams, both variations of bronzers hyper-focused on legs. These formulas come in stick form – good for travel. 
Hippies might like all natural Dr. Hauschka Translucent Bronze Concentrate which turns ordinary lotion into bronzer with a few pumps. 
Finally, consider a self-tanner + bronzer combo which gives you instant gratification and a parting gift of gradual color for later. You all know the self-tanner rules: exfoliate, moisterize rough spots first, wear gloves, and take the time to apply carefully. There are several pocketbook friendly options in this category: Australian Gold Continuous Spray with Instant Bronzer SPF 15, L’Oreal Sublime Bronze, or Urban Decay Santa Tanita.
Even though metallics have peaked, expect more than a few silver, gold, sequined, and beaded numbers at this year’s holiday festivities. If you must indulge, an awareness of these common mistakes will help you avoid metallicaca.
Avoid too tight and too short. Metallic brings its own zing, so go more conservative with length to avoid hookerville.
Color + Metallic = Overkill. Gold, silver, bronze, or black are the only acceptable options. No need to over complicate an already eye-catching look with heavy beading, pleats, or rainbows.
As demonstrated, shiny fabric highlights figure flaws and fit issues. Don’t step outside in any metallic dress that is less than impeccable. When the light hits, there is nowhere to hide. 
Please no metallic sacks unless you’re in your second trimester. Even the high-end flapper-inspired looks rarely flatter. 