I’ve been procrastinating this piece, because I don’t entirely know what to say about it. Natalie is, obviously, hugely pregnant, so she gets a pass for needing to be as comfortable as possible. Then again, being pregnant during awards season is not a new experience for her, and she’s pulled it off with more sartorial energy than this. Her earrings and jewelry and makeup are lovely, but the gown is the hallmark of an overly ambitious cult priestess who was aiming at Regal with Flourishes, but instead hit Wilting Cotton Ball. Maybe she FELT like a wilting cotton ball. Her interview with Brad Goreski was uncomfortably stilted and low-energy, and I wonder if she was either distracted, or simply hyper-aware that she was unlikely to win — which I’m not saying is all she cares about; rather, that basic human nature means that suspecting you’ll go home empty-handed must make it WAY less alluring to get all togged up at eight months pregnant and march your fetus around a long rug for an exhausting two hours, and then not even be able to DRINK to wash down the moderately okay dinner. I’ve always thought the saving grace of watching everyone in a room cheer for someone else, someone who defeated you, would be getting to down Champs with your colleagues and roll your eyes in the bathroom line at various things people are wearing/saying/doing. This is why awards shows are best consumed at home.
Still, all that said: If she’d lopped off the arm scrunchies and kept this short-sleeved, it would have worked a thousand times better. You know that old chestnut, “Don’t let perfect be the enemy of good”? Sometimes, with clothes, it should be, “Don’t let conversation-starters be the enemy of quiet loveliness.” It… isn’t as zippy, I admit. I need a round of edits.