Fugger: Chloe Sevigny
I often refer to the Met Ball in my head as The Place Where Fug Madness Seedings Are Born, and this year was no exception. Wee begin with the fantastically, delightfully, hilariously addlepated ensemble of one Chloe Sevigny, who is back to being one of my very favorite people in the world.
Yes, she’s bedecked chiefly in hot pants and mirrors. If only she’d opted to look in one of them.
Do you guys remember when Christian Bale had that total expletive-laced freak-out on set, and someone released the audio of it, and then someone else made a catchy techno remix of it, thus proving that sometimes the internet is used for good and not evil?
Sometimes the part where Bale bellows, “IT’S F&*$CKING DISTRACTING….OH, GOOOOOOOOOOOOD,” pops into my head like an earworm, and that’s what I keep hearing every time I look at Chloe’s hair. It IS f$cking DISTRACTING.
So, listen. This is so much better than her last trek up Mount Crackatoa that I can’t even see straight.
That’s why I need you guys to give me some perspective. Dismissing the hair, which still looks like it got stuck in the back of her hair dryer and didn’t notice until she smelled burning and then she had to cut it out — which of course has NEVER HAPPENED TO ME, EVER — is this… good? It might be. It might be kind of cute. It might also look like she is part-dragon, or a cheerleader at a high school for amphibious teens. But my eyes are crossed with “One Fugging Moment” majesty and so I need someone to give me a swift virtual slap into a sensible place.
Usually, I wholly embrace the chance to put 1,000 words to any photo.
In this case, though, I think Natasha Lyonne’s facial expression says it all.