The best and worst of the A-list: Kate Winslet in Elie Saab and Gwyneth Paltrow in Pucci. Gwyneth’s face looks better than it has in a while, but the dress is confusing and wrong. A transparent midriff, really G?
Another disappointing turn for Katie Holmes in Calvin Klein Collection. Bad fit, uninspired color, and boring shoes combined to create another dud for Mrs. Cruise. 
Evan Rachel Wood provided a refreshing relief from the onslaught of red in an immaculately tailored Elie Saab.
Hate to say Christina Hendricks looked unnecessarily big in an embellished Johanna Johnson gown. The open toe and low heeled shoe makes her legs appear chunky. A darker tressed Elisabeth Moss stayed in the same color family as her co-star in a pinky-nudish Marchesa adorned with shimmering vines. Damn, I miss Mad Men.
Let’s get the Glee bitches out of the way: self-important Lea Michele vamping for the flashbulbs in Marchesa, Jenna Ushkowitz in an architectural Ghadah Paris, and Diana Agron in Roskanda Ilinic. 
Naya Rivera’s chic, black, subtly-detailed gown made Heather Morris‘ selection look fussy by comparison. 
Colfer proves that photographically satin betrays both genders. Darren Criss showed up his more well-known cast mate in a slender suit by John Varvatos. 
Of the hostesses, Cat Deeley didn’t embarrass herself or wow in Monique L’Huillier. I question the clutch choice with this particular gown. 
Even with ample style resources, Padma Lakshmi in Armani Privé and Heidi Klum in Christian Siriano reinforce the notion that most models can’t dress themselves worth a shit. 
You would think that the Fashion Police might dress a skosh more fashionably, right? Giuliana wore a crimson Cavalli which got lost in the sea of red gowns. Kelly Osbourne did a bit better in plum J. Mendel. However, for someone who regularly critiques others for failing to make fashion forward choices, this safe dress felt more Lea Michele than Kelly Osbourne. Though let’s face it, none of these third tier hangers-on get first pick of the best gowns. 
Prettier than most ladies, how about a little Mario Lopez palette cleanser? Werk those dimples son. 
Joel McHale also looked dapper and fresh in his icy tux coat. 
Not much better than that dreadful Wonder Woman costume, Adrianne Palicki arrived in anti-photogenic satin. Super likable Connie Britton looked lovely in a deeper shade of the night’s most favored hue. For a woman her age, the face and body are damn aspirational and underrated. 
Minka’s old lady Christian Dior underscored the impact of Galliano’s departure on the house. This gown isn’t going to give Jeter any regrets. 
Usually Claire does Narciso or Calvin Klein; instead she went in a different direction with this flashy Oscar de la Renta gown. The perennially overrated Emily Blunt donned Elie Saab. Elie Saab provided many of the evening’s strongest looks, but this wasn’t one of them. Why does she always have that just-ate-a-canary mug on her face?
Julie Bowen did de la Renta this year and kept the accessories minimal. Sofia Vergara rocked Wang (Vera not Alexander, obviously). Don’t match the lipstick to the dress please.
For comics, Kristen Wiig impressed in ombre Zac Posen, and Amy Poehler rocked Peter Som. Her dress was featured right here on Demeter Clarc in the best of blue for Fall 2011 RTW.
Pint-sized Nina Dobrev was swallowed whole by bloodshot Donna Karan. Hate the necklace too. Margulies‘ unseasonable white Armani Privé evoked Styrofoam cup. 
Let’s finish strong and severe with Game of Thrones actress Lena Headey in Alessandra Rich. A different bag and belt could have catapulted her from an eight to a ten. The fantastic Christine Baranski served a seasonally appropriate dark blue Zac Posen and outshone many attendees half her age. 
E! recently made a genius programming decision by upgrading Fashion Police to a weekly series. Joan Rivers has never been sharper as the Grand Dame presiding over a panel which includes Kelly Osbourne, Giuliana Rancic, and George Kotsiopoulos.
Speaking of Giuliana, we don’t do baby here at Demeter Clarc, but didja all happen to catch Giuliana and Bill on Friday’s View pimping their new book on their miscarriage press tour? We all sympathize with the couple for sure, but my inner cynic recoils at the notion of leveraging this kind of loss to bolster book sales and promote the upcoming season of a reality show.
While Giuliana has a comforting chipmunky quality, sort of a Katie Couric for Carrie Bradshaw disciples, a ravenous, fame-seeking beast pulses beneath her perky veneer. Even though the couple’s intentions to share their struggles may come from a pure place, the decision to craft their image around reproductive challenges is a risky strategy indeed. What if they have five miscarriages before they conceive? What if they never conceive? Is the public now privy to every detail since they have offered up the most private part of themselves in exchange for fame?
Speaking of late-thirties baby news, OK! reports Rachel Zoe has finally dulled the ache in Rodger’s pussy by incubating their very own Scarlet Begonia this awards season. Mazel Rach and Rodg!
Across the coast in NYC, Rachel’s first stop was L.A.M.B for a little pow-wow with Gwen Stefani. Zoe undulated over the clothes, but Gwen maintained her distance and even gave a little cut eye. 
Stefani modeled this dope coat. L.A.M.B. is okay except for their tendency to recapitulate the same trends: plaid, leather, zoot suit. Also, you really need to be at least 5’7″ to wear her wide leg pants or risk drowning.
After her meeting with Gwen, Rachel got a call from Naomi Campbell who requested that she pull 90-100 looks for Fashion for Relief Haiti scheduled to open Mercedes-Benz Fashion Week 72 hours later. Despite the short-notice, Rachel of course agreed – nobody says no to Mz. Campbell.
The huge project meant Brad had to hop the first flight to NYC to help Rachel throw together the benefit. Through flurries, Rachel arrived at the Haiti for Relief production offices and surveyed the pitiful clothing selection. The snowy weather caused the whole city to grind to a halt, and the samples weren’t exactly pouring in. 
Brad pled, begged, and blackberried every contact he had in the industry with virtually no results. Rachel tried to put together outfits with the meager pickings, but without accessories, shoes, or a wide variety of clothes, the looks were more Filene’s Basement than Fendi.
Brad’s frustrating lack of urgency panicked Rachel even further. Nobody wants to be at the receiving end of Naomi Campbell’s dragon fire, and Rachel should be skerred since Naomi could crack her open like crème brûlée.
Rachel complained to Brad about the lack of clothes, and in turn Brad kvetched to the others about being on Rachel’s shit list. A minion asked Brad if he’d contacted Jimmy Choo, and he responded, “Let’s do Choo!” No fucking shit dumbass. You’ve been sitting around all fucking day creasing your brow and whining about not having shoes, and it didn’t occur to you to call Jimmy Fucking Choo? Brad is officially useless.
Naomi rolled in and doled out “hellos” mistakenly calling Brad “Brian,” as he turned bright red with embarrassment and fear. Naomi surveyed the scene and immediately freaked out at the shortage. Brad tried to serve Naomi excuses, but she wasn’t having it, arguing he should have brought any problems to her attention sooner. Duck Brad!
Overnight, the news of Alexander McQueen’s untimely demise broke, and this cast a dark shadow over all of fashion week. To honor him, Naomi planned to add a small McQueen tribute to the end of the Fashion for Relief runway show.
One of the models, Ralph Plaisimond, a Haitian, was in the country during the earthquake. As he told of his experience, Rachel couldn’t cope with anything beyond the superficial, so she departed to self-soothe in the other room. Proving once again white people suck, Rachel launched into a racist diatribe claiming she’s always been “obsessed” with Haitians (like Haitians are the new must-have Chanel bag), before turning to Brad and pawing a rack bragging, “they are all Giamba…”
The next day, looks started pouring in. This was more likely a result of Naomi connections than Brad’s hustle, but either way the influx saved Brad’s ass.
On the morning of the show, Rachel hurried to order the looks and finish the fittings while Brad wandered around aimlessly, failing to take charge of the chaos backstage. Despite the general disorganization, the models managed to execute the extremely complicated task of getting dressed and walking down the runway. In the end, the show came together and was surprisingly not a total clusterfuck.
The show closed with a tribute to King McQueen where everyone choked up at the loss of a true genius. The void he left will never be filled. We love and admire you always Alexander.
