Most people won’t get it, but Anja Rubik (in Anthony Vacarello) managed what many could not at the 2013 Met Gala. The model executed on the punk theme without falling into some of the most common sartorial traps of the evening (don’t worry, we’ll get there). The shape, color, and fabric reference punk while remaining high fashion. If this puresex look isn’t totally fuckable, you tell me what is? 
Let’s just get this GOOP out of the way right now before this candy-coated bitch drives me to distraction. I thought Paltrow swore off pink gowns after that cloying Ralph Lauren she donned for her Oscar win. Is she fucking with us? I loathe this Valentino Couture gown on so many levels I can only assume she chose it as her hate campaign uniform. Nude illusion, really girl? Pink shiny too short long sleeves? What? A puddle of bridesmaid satin pink? Incomprehensible. How is she going to sell those expensive gym memberships when the skinny bitch actually looks chubby (gasp!)?
Who the fuck did Kanye blow to get Kim in this year? So this florabomination is courtesy of Riccardo Tisci. I’m not sure we can blame him. All I can focus on is her Miss Piggy foot. Poor pregnant Kim is puffed up painfully and spilling over the edge of that shoe. The gloves are totally freaking me out. Hand camo. 
Cameron Diaz served up a spiky-waisted Stella McCartney in a bold blue cape style. I dislike how this frock is both droopy and restrictive. 
After all that Hathaway drama at the Oscars, Amanda drew upon all her Givenchy spokesbitch connections to score this archive gown. I think it is fucking genius. Suck it Anne! 
In Valentino, Anne Hathaway’s boobs channeled Madonna’s titties from the Express Yourself video, right? Do we like Annie as a blonde? I don’t hate it, but the brassy color is undoubtedly aging. 
Christina Ricci knocked on the door of the right fashion house – Vivienne Westwood – for a post-punk glam moment, but it looks like she got tangled up in the tartan. I do love the orange lip and fishnets. 
Ashley Olsen robbed a Palm Beach Socialite of her vintage Christian Dior Couture for her sherbet sparkling Met moment. In keeping with her body dismorphic trademark style, Mary-Kate wore Chanel and Balmain that was five sizes too big for her. 
I get the impression Allison Williams takes herself way too seriously. She smacks of try. The heinous piecemeal gown is Altuzarra.
Anna Wintour stuck with sequined floral Chanel, and Bee wore Dior. Can’t say I’m particularly wowed by the wicked stepsisters.
Does anyone wear clothes better and with more enthusiasm than SJP? Love her Giles Deacon gown and Phillip Treacy headpiece. 
Topshop dressed Nicole Richie. The overall styling isn’t that flattering, but I’m still oddly attracted to her white hair. Punk Glam Granny?
Opa! Here comes the flaming cheese – Beyoncé in Givenchy.
Uma Thurman looked absolutely snatched in this leafy Zac Posen. What did she do to her face?
Stella McCartney must be best friends with Liberty Ross because this outfit is obviously a revenge burn on Kristen Stewart. Is she smuggling honey-baked ham in there?
I’ve been loving me some Rita Ora lately. She not only successfully fucked-over that whiny Rob Kardashian, she looks super fresh in this white Thakoon.
Emma Watson worked her sexy, but she remained eternally adorable and demure in this Prabal Gurung. She’s our modern day Audrey. 
Miley really went for it in Marc Jacobs and it worked. Hate to admit she’s been serving something savory lately. Applause. 
Compare Miley to her contemporary Taylor Swift who looks about 53 in this old lady J. Mendel number.
Speaking of 53, Madonna came in her Givenchy costume. For a woman who hates her thighs, she sure is accentuating them in this fussy get-up. You could bounce a quarter off that face (and ass!). 
Dakota Fanning looked super cute in her Rodarte. Even though this look was understated compared to most, the simple and sweet styling stood out from the crowd. 
Here is Lena Dunham in Erdem with Erdem. The makeup is the best ever for her. 
Jessica Alba belongs on a Maxim list and nowhere else. Seriously, who wears Tory Burch to a punk themed gala? Sheesh. Why don’t you just wear Lilly Pulitizer bitch? 
Carey Mulligan is everything in Balenciaga. Die for the safety pin. It isn’t showy, but it doesn’t need to be. Fucking chic.
Lopez put a little leopard on it in Michael Kors. The girl gives good face, and I love the unusual hair Jen! Bonus points for not letting the cabana boy ruin the shot. 
May we all be this ravishing at her age. Diane von Furstenberg rolled in as a disco-dipped Mrs. Roper. 
Calm down Gisele. (From what I hear Cara brought the eight-ball).
Go outside. Wasted the summer on the sofa? There is still plenty of time to get off your ass and feel the sun on your face. It doesn’t have to be an all day commitment. My friend Trisha and I took a short but challenging hike over the weekend and celebrated with smoothies and pancakes. I was back on the couch with the bong by 3 pm, but this time with a misguided sense of accomplishment. 
Go natural. Lose the make-up, hair dryer, and trappings of effort and just go as you are for at least a day. See how good you look free from all the cosmetic “enhancement.” Ever since I stopped brushing my hair like an Olsen everyone keeps saying how great it looks. A dialed-down you might receive surprisingly interesting reactions. Why not cultivate an effortless look by actually using less effort?
Embrace frivolity. Before September strikes, enjoy a moment of total silliness. Play in a sprinkler. Wear ridiculous vintage. Smile at strangers. Read Jacqueline Susann. Send a postcard. Shamelessly court fun.
As those of us with a pulse know, last night the Met Gala threw down in NYC. The ball celebrated the opening of the exhibit Schiaparelli and Prada: Impossible Conversations at the Costume Institute. Let’s have a conversation about the fucking weird ass choices some of these bitches made last night. 
It is hard to know where to start, so let’s start with some one who should know better. Rachel Zoe looks like a fringed push pop in this ridiculous-on-her frock. Zoe styled Karolina Kurkova (where you been girl?) in a gown from her eponymous line. The dress appears to have been heavily influenced by the Armani gown Zoe dressed Anne Hathaway in for the Oscars not too long ago – that Zoe, always full of fresh ideas.
Beyoncé loves that stupid ass pose. Who the fuck stands like that in real life? The way she stiffly palms her outer thighs is so forced and unnatural. Do we need to talk about this Givenchy Couture? I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, it seems to me that Givenchy cares more about appearing on the red carpet than maintaining a high standard of brand integrity. By my totally unscientific estimation, about one in ten times Givenchy gets it right with their red carpet loaners. Sorry B, this is definitely not one of those times. I hate almost every single thing about this dress. 
It took some nutz for Christina Ricci to rock this odd Thakoon number. It isn’t perfect, but it is courageous. Is she going through another praying mantis phase or is it just a pre-Met crash diet?
If Laura Ashley and a flora chintz sofa made a bastard love child, this Valentino blanket that SJP is wearing would be the unholy spawn. 
Jessica Paré wore the shit out of this L’Wren Scott gold cap sleeve. No dummy, our little Megan obviously plans to squeeze every last drop of exposure from her Mad Men supporting role. Good for her, this was one of the better ensembles of the evening. 
From one Mrs. Draper to another, January Jones typically pushes boundaries, at times at the expense of flattery. The more I look at this sculpted Versace, the less it offends me. Yeah, the peplum has been overdone this season, and yeah yellow and black tends to evoke bumble bee, but I think this is a bold and interesting post-baby choice. She’s done worse. 
Lately, Emma Stone has made me forget why I like her. The color, shape, texture, and timing of this Lanvin cocktail frock is all wrong for this season and this event. Did she get lost on her way to homecoming?
Carey Mulligan co-hosted the event and wore this shield to protect her soul from the despotic clutches of Anna Wintour. 
Paltrow predictably in Prada presenting a pinch of side boob. Have we reached a consensus on whether she conservatively augmented her tatas after Moses? If she’s going to continue to push those absurd Tracy Anderson workouts then she might want to actually wear something that celebrates her hard-fought body. Unfinished is the word I would use to describe this look.
Is Cameron just straight up old now or what? Squint – is this Sharon Stone or Cameron Diaz? Stella McCartney provided the matronly gown. Stella McCartney is just mean with some of the ugly ass shit she makes her friends wear, damn.
Claire Danes evoked a little Betty Draper from the neck up, which was a welcome departure from her minimalist tendency. J Mendel conceived of the ill-fitting garment. The cut accentuates her tiny top and then betrays her by creating the illusion of a big bottom. Face it, she’s serving sleeveless bathrobe. 
First, why are these two getting married? I dislike them each individually more when they are together. Biel looks like she hemmed that dress with two-sided tape 5 minutes before she strode onto the carpet. We all know very well that Jessica Biel couldn’t dress herself if she were locked in a Chanel store. When it comes to Biel, the expectations are very low. Yet she still repeatedly fails to meet them. Much like Justin Timberlake’s acting career. 
Dunst looks pissed. I’d be pissed to if I wore that random shit to the fashion event of the year. I hate this evening suit almost as much as I hate that overrated Melancholia.
Hey Flo! I truly appreciate your willingness to go balls to the wall. At Coachella, you served me desert couture and I’m grateful for it. However, you are not Lady Gaga. This fussy layered McQueen is an overreach that reads more costume than gala. 
Prabal Gurung is a pimp. That’s called swagger bitches. Recognize. 
One of the best dressed of the evening – Marion Cotillard in head to toe Dior. Don’t usually love a sheer bottom, but this dress photographs and fits beautifully. J’adore. 
We saw quite a few subtle variations on a very similar look; here Rihanna does the long-sleeved reflective column in black Tom Ford. Snooze. 
Scarjo no! This embellished, pink, antiquated Dolce & Gabbana mess had no bizness at the Met Gala. I need more modernity from you Scarlett! You are not a little girl anymore; evolve past this princessy shit. 
Bad Grandma! Bad, bad Grandma! We told you not to leave Shady Pines without a nurse’s aid. Oh wait, that’s just Mary Kate at the Met Gala. 
Jessica Alba improved over last year, but she should have worn this dress then when this Michael Kors metallic lamé might have felt fresh. Did Brad Goreski style her again this year?
The unofficial perennial Prom King and Queen of the Met Ball, Gisele and Tom stuck to boring black this year. Is it me or does that photo reveal a bit of tension between the power couple?
Just days before the Oscars, Team Zoe multitasked trying to cover the collections in Europe and collecting gowns for the awards show in L.A. Even though the best frocks seemed to be slipping through her fingers, Zoe dropped everything to rush to London at Kate Hudson’s beckoning.
Aflutter with an A-list celebrity contact-high, Zoe was too concerned with wedging her head up Hudson’s ass to panic over her unmet professional obligations. Even though Burberry surely sent over a narrow range of options for Kate to wear to the show, Rachel took credit for Hudson’s look. A puffy-faced Kate rocked a military pea coat over a sequined mini dress in two different shades of green.
While imperfectly executed here, ladies take note, don’t run all over town, in the middle of the winter, in a minuscule dress, with no coat, freezing your ass off. Consider a cocktail-military combination and challenge the traditional assumptions of femininity, masculinity, day, and evening. Remember, shivering is not chic. 
Post-show, Kate and Rachel debated the merits of men in turtlenecks (Rachel pro, Kate con). Then Kate broke out into a few lines of Fleetwood Mac’s Silver Springs a capella, which was simultaneously annoying and impressive.
Rachel and Kate returned back to the hotel room where Rodger was curled up in his robe on the bed. Kate and Rodger double-teamed Rachel on the baby issue, but it’s kind of obvious she doesn’t want one. This would be Zoe’s wisest decision since the last thing the world needs is any more people.
Rachel raced back to Milan to join Brad for the shows. They met at a vintage store, Rachel in a Yves St. Laurent leopard trench, and Brad channeling Halston in a controversial turtleneck. Rachel justified her conspicuous consumption by rationalizing she would model her dreadful QVC line after her vintage finds. Brad walked away the true winner, scoring a ferocious felt gray wool man cape.
First Alberta Ferretti, a purveyor of modern, feminine, Italian elegance. The collection lacked any really Oscar contenders, but watching Rachel kiss designer ass never really gets boring.
Next Team Zoe ventured to the Missoni showroom where we met up with the (overrated) Margherita Missoni and her (underrated) mother, Angela. Margherita showed the group a bag with a pocket made of chicken feet, and this was Rachel’s reaction.
Can’t stop by Milano and not drop in on Versace. Brad even donned his D jacket for Donatella. Donatella and her gigantic lips greeted a gushing Rachel. Brad turned splotchy red, shifted his weight, and wore a tight nervous smile as he cradled Rachel’s coat like her little fur bitch.
The show itself produced nil in the way of Oscar options, leaving Team Zoe in much the same position as when they commenced Milan Fashion Week.
Later that night, Rachel and the rest of Team Zoe argued over whether she should wear thigh-high boots or patent leather platform wedges. Even though the boots were better and more fashion forward, Rachel chose the same tired platforms we’ve seen her in 1,000 times. Shoes aren’t the problem. She’s so fucking skinny she looks like glamour granny in everything she wears anyway.
At the Bulgari event, Julianne Moore barely tolerated Rachel’s superficiality. When Zoe inquired as to what Moore would don at the Oscars, Julianne answered Calvin Klein. This revelation smacked Rachel back into the reality that neither of her clients have gowns for the Oscars taking place less than a week away.
Back in L.A., a few dresses, including the Oscar de la Renta princess gown, began to trickle into the studio. However, Rachel began to suffer the harsh consequences of her irresponsible decision to flee to London to lick Hudson buns when she lost three of her top Oscar choices to other stylists.
Rodger tried to talk Rachel off the ledge by arguing that it isn’t a reality until the client knows about a dress and loses it. Irate, Rachel countered, “But you know when you know it existed? When it’s on another fucking actress, that’s when you know it existed!”
