Ever since I heard tell that Kate Winslet was maybe not as cuddly and delightful as we all would like her to be — I’m sorry, I didn’t want to believe it either, but my source is quite good — I’ve been watching her face to see if her SECRET ALLEGED EVIL would OUT, and while I don’t know if I’d go that far yet, I’m pretty sure I don’t want to meet this lady in a dark alley. Am I right?
She looks a little mean in this shot. Is all I’m saying. Is it possible that she’s just crabby because her polka dots are ATTACKING?
Helen Mirren is one of those actresses on whom we both have a raging lady-crush, and it’s because she both owns her age and looks freaking fantastic for it. She is the Meryl Streep of England, both in terms of acting respect and overall fabulosity.
Except, of course, this is NOT Helen Mirren. This is Kate Winslet, who hopes that in twenty or thirty years we are calling her the MerylHelen MirrenStreep of the world. But tonight, I am calling her BORING. This is so blah and aging that I keep staring at the skirt, expecting to find that it’s actually trousers — worse, SLACKS, which is my least-favorite word for that particular article of clothing because it evokes support hose and panty-lines and frumpy pleats and that old “It’s Pat!” sketch from Saturday Night Live.
In fact, I think Helen Mirren OR Meryl Streep could have worn this — throw Sigourney Weaver into that mix too, actually — and we’d have said, “What a classy dame.” But Kate Winslet isn’t even thirty-five yet. So while I’m delighted she didn’t strut the red carpet in cut-out lace while arching her back like a long-lost Hilton sister, there is a lot of acreage between that and Emcee of the St. Agnes Hospital Auxiliary Board Meatloaf Buffet and Silent Auction. She is young and gorgeous and has a body I would weep with glee to inherit. Work it harder, sister.
If you were to ask me to identify the take-home lesson that validates Paris Hilton’s continued existence, my answer likely would NOT be, “Paris teaches us the value of standing with our pelvises thrust out at all times.”
Oh, KATE. You are better than the Paris Pelvis. You are also better than a dress I wore to a winter formal in 1996. I get that you probably think it shows off a streamlined physique that no doubt you will claim is due only to running around after your kids — and you DO look fantastic, it’s true, so please put out a “Running Around After Your Kids: How To Get Calf Muscles and Lose Ten Pounds Just By Being A Mom” DVD — but the frock is just a bit Donna Martin Goes To See Fergie’s Girl-Band Wild Orchid Play The After-Dark for my taste.
First, I tried addressing Kate Winslet and Reese Witherspoon’s dresses separately, since they’re not exactly identical, but I kept wanting to say similar things about them. Both gowns have in common the concept of a basic idea embellished with black overlays, and both of them have me firmly on the fence. Which is not a comfortable place to be. Too many splinters. So while Intern George fetches some iodine and the tweezers, let’s first take a look at Kate’s choice:
I really like the bluish-gunmetal color. But with the hair and what she appears to imagine is her regal bearing, it all just seems a bit OLD to me. Or rather, mature. Like she is planning to get together with Carolina Herrera and Princess Anne after the Oscars for a brandy. The other issue is that neckline. The pleating over her left boob is lovely, but there is something funky happening under the shoulder strap — almost like there is a shoulder pad stuck in there acting as a nipple shield. And finally, the front overlay feels a bit randomly glued to the waistband. Adding up those elements and the fact that the back is black satin, it’s just… a lot. Kind of like a valentine made by a very depressed fourth-grader, who is pretty sure that the little red-headed girl is never going to like him if he can’t even kick a football without landing flat on his back. I wanted Kate Winslet to embrace being young and hot, as opposed to taking the whole Greatest Actress Of Her Generation thing so seriously that she’s aging herself into some kind of Tinseltown monarch.
So, we’ve got lots to chat about here, but before we get talking outfits, there’s something I have to address. I’m sure the real title of the following is Kate Winslet Wishes Mickey Rourke Good Luck, but I would like to refer to it as, Kate Winslet Meets Husband Number Three:
THAT’S a comeback, bitches. Plus, imagine the interiews they’d both give about this! Sorry, Sam Mendes. I’m sure you’re a wonderful man, but I need this to happen. If only because I feel like Kate MIGHT be able to gently nudge Mickey away from his fantastic-yet-alarming Bret Michaels-esque sartorial choices and back to what he used to look like, which, if you were not aware, was this:
As it’s Inauguration Day here in the US, it seems only right to kick off the morning with a little voting, right? A wee shout out to the democratic process and all. And who shall be our subject this fine morn? Let’s go with Ms Winslet here, as we’ve gotten several emails about this:
Despite the fact that it seems this photo was snapped in the hallway outside of the bathroom, I thinks she looks rather fetching — albeit maybe a bit as though she’s eaten off her lipgloss. But let’s go to the close-up of the top of the dress for a bit more info about what’s going on there, shall we?