Now that Anne is the Supporting Actress awards favorite, a pet project of Valentino, and basically writing her own checks in this town, it’s time to take a look back at whence she came. Remember Get Real? Did ANYONE watch a single frame of that show and think, “Wow, if Anne Hathaway and Jesse Eisenberg don’t get nominated for Oscars someday, I will eat my VCR remote”?
The ones from the Charlie’s Angels 2 circuit missed the birth of GFY by a year. If ONLY we had been earlier on the scene. You all are going to look at these and think, “HOW THE HELL did I forget any of this happened? WHERE WAS I? DO I HAVE SELECTIVE AMNESIA?!?!?!” It’s glorious. Drew Barrymore, you may want to take cover.
This might not be the birthday gift Cameron wanted on the fortieth anniversary of her natal day, but… it’s the thought that counts? When I told Jessica I wanted to do this, I said simply, “She has… worn some things.” I mean, the two Charlie’s Angels press tours are SO INSANE on all sides that I’m actually breaking them off into their own slideshow for later. Because I couldn’t make this one any longer — indeed, for any of the little things I had to skip (like the entire Knight and Day press tour) feel free to revisit her GFY archive — but I couldn’t deny you, either. So watch for that one in a few hours. Meanwhile: Happy birthday, Cameron. It’s been a bumpy road, but least you aren’t matching your hats to your jeans anymore.
Sometimes at GFY HQ, when we’re not trying on our Grinch suits or objectifying dudes in Hollywood whom we might need to hire to open our mail (Hamm, do you own a letter-opener?), we sit around and ponder important questions. Like, remember when Jessica Biel was just that girl from the mushy Brenda Hampton show that clutched its pearls about teen sex? And now she’s wearing couture and dating Justin Timberlake. How did that happen? How does a girl go from The WB to dating and re-dating and re-re-dating Hollywood’s most eligible bachelor while serving as a utility player in Garry Marshall’s sprawling and inane ensemble “comedies” in 50 outfits or less? The answer: She doesn’t; this is 52 and I even edited it quite a bit. Still, Shailene Woodley, who is kind of Biel 2.0 in the sense that she TOO is on a Brenda Hampton show that clutches its pearls about teen sex, should take notes for the day she ends up wearing couture and dating Justin Timberlake.
You know who’s been conspicuously absent from the press events for New Year’s Eve, despite being in both the previews and the poster? Ms. Halle Berry. I can’t answer the question of where she’s been, or what she’s doing when she’s busy getting herself uninvited from whatever other Garry Marshall hodge-podge is next — Hump Day, maybe — but perhaps that last thing in and of itself IS the answer. Instead, let’s look at where she’s been and what she’s been doing in the last, oh, 12 or 13 years. There are some BAD SHOES, y’all. Or at least boring ones. Join me.
Well. If Emma Watson is the up-and-coming fashionista of the Potterverse, then Helena Bonham Carter is its steward of wackitude. Bellatrix Lestrange is, in fact, the perfect alter-ego name for her — she’s beautiful, she’s strange, and some of her trix are for kids. Let’s take a look back at her hits and misses. Most of them misses, and most of those aremisses that then somehow turn around and become hits. It’s fashion alchemy.
It took Shania Twain coming back on the scene to make me realize how much I missed her. Not musically, necessarily — although the woman who penned the lyrics ““My panty line shows / Got a run in my hose / My hair went flat / Man, I hate that / Just when I thought things couldn’t get worse / I realized I forgot my purse. With all this stress I must confess / this could be worse than PMS” desperately does need to write a song with her esteemed countryman Bryan “Have You Ever Really, Really Really REALLY, Like REALLY, For Realsies Really Really Loved A Woman?” Adams — but rather, fashion-wise. Did you remember how wackadoo Early Shania was? She’s totally the precursor to Carrie Underwood’s coat-capes and Rihanna’s… Rihannaness. Take a walk down memory lane with me. Bring Advil.