Fug File: I'm Scared
wearing one of Britney’s cast-offs. SERIOUSLY. LOOK AT YOUR LIFE. LOOK AT YOUR CHOICES.
Dude. I feel you. I… I just can’t do it anymore. I just can’t. Anyone who decides to arrive at the Grammys in an egg obviously has an unusually powerful and grossly all-encompassing need for attention, and here’s why: An awards show is not about one person. It’s about — well, let’s say at least a hundred people, about 80 of whom are way, way, way, way less famous than Lady Gaga is, some of whom are only known amongst polka enthusiasts. If Gaga decided to open her own concert in an egg, then more power to her. A Lady Gaga concert is about and for Lady Gaga, and she can and should court all the attention she can. And, trust, it’s not like I think the Grammys are the equivalent of the Nobel Prize or whatever, but I suspect everyone who was nominated for one, and who got to walk the red carpet, got pretty excited about their big night. And then this stupid Egg Being Carried In By Minions routine completely and totally drew every single bit of red carpet attention away from EVERYONE ELSE. To my mind, that’s not performance art — because it’s not being done to make a larger artistic point. The point it’s making is, “I’M HERE IN AN EGG LOOK AT ME LOOK AT ME LOOK AT ME ME ME ME ME ME HOW ELSE CAN I FOLLOW A MEAT DRESS?” Honestly, I just think it’s bratty.
Of course, she couldn’t just stop with the egg. Please pop into the slideshow and follow along. I’ll try not to get all CAPSY on you.
“Yes,” Drew thought wistfully, “this was the right choice.”
“Is there anything in this world more easy OR more breezy than a human-sized cotton wine-sack? Does anything shriek ‘Cover Girl’ like quite a beach towel, hobbled so that you can’t really walk without, say, falling over and hitting your face on the corner of the coffee table, thus necessitating a whole lot of CoverGirl TruBlend Liquid Make-up? Can you even think of the words ‘CoverGirl’ without also reflecting, ‘if only they made dresses from traffic cones, and oranges into rectangles?’ When you wake up in the middle of January, don’t you also decide that today is the day the beach cover-up you got for 60% off at J Crew finally makes an appearance? Aren’t you also irritated that J Crew has the most ridiculously expensive shipping in the world? Have you ever tried to secretly return a Final Sale item to J Crew only to learn that they will SEND IT BACK to you with a cranky note? Do you like peaches? Don’t you think it’s kind of mean that they decided to make the actress with the most famous lisp in Hollywood say the words, ‘Lash blast mascara’? The answers, if you’re wondering, are: Easy yes, breezy no, no, yes, if your oranges are rectangles you need to contact your supermarket because something went to hell there somewhere, no, yes, YES, sure, and totally. Beautiful! Cover Girl!”
Oh my god, you guys. What is HAPPENING HERE?
Parts of the interwebs have been speculating that Marion has a bun in the oven — excuse me, un croissant dans le four — but I’m simply loath to speculate. Okay, that’s a total lie: I love to speculate, about everything, but I simply don’t have enough evidence here to settle on a theory one way or the other, though I must admit that I DO think she looks marginally more lush than usual (in a good way). Not that I could really see anything in this picture that wasn’t intimately involved with the Trainwreck of Her Neck Attire. Maybe I missed this day in health class, but is an increased fondness for random, straggly collar feathers and/or hair tip-toeing dangerously toward Art Garfunkel territory a little known symptom of pregnancy? If so, someone call Us Weekly, because GIRLFRIEND IS KNOCKED UP.