Guilty as Charged, or, Red Carpet Revelry

I do not watch television, let alone own a television, and my knowledge of various award show nominations is about as deep as my interest in such frivolous, superficial, capitalist affairs. My vehemence could be construed as bitterness or disdain, which is not the case; I love capitalism and being entertained, though, do find the comedy in an entire industrial machine that feigns to be something righteous and beautiful and unconcerned with money.

Despite this blissful ignorance surrounded the purported meat of the Golden Globes, I cannot help but spend the next morning in procrastination, admiring the sartorial works of art, the successes, and wrestling with the catacombs of fabric that some stylist, somewhere, thought was an acceptable idea. This year, a dramatic but classic Versace, donned by an equally dramatic Angelina Jolie, was my favorite.

(image taken from Glamour)