So, after the trial by fire that was the MTV Movie Awards, we are rewarded with "the Oscars of the fashion world," the CFDAs, in which the best and brightest of the
fashion world convened (at the New York Public Library, obviously) to channel classic YSL. (How they managed to pull it together so fast is another question - but, hey, it's not the Council of Fashion Designers for nothing. Maybe they have vintage menswear lying in wait the way papers have obits?) It was suggested by one reader yesterday that my guest advent was a clear indicator that Jezebel is "going downhill." When I was younger - like, a day younger - this is the kind of thing that would have hurt my feelings. But it's a new day and I have developed the thick skin of the professional blogger. The professional blogger who really, really liked Maggie Gyllenhaal's harem pants, and is prepared to suffer for it. After the jump, of course.
Hey, you gotta hand it to the Nuclear Wintour: when she's on, she's really on.
I dig the slightly earthy feel of Mandy Moore's gown.
Zac Posen's shrunken jacket is wedding-cake-man dapper!
Yes, we've seen Ashley Olsen work this before, but never better than this: just costumey enough, and, given that he was a total recluse for the majority of her life, a
surprisingly apt tribute to YSL.
What can I say? I think Maggie Gyllenhaal pulls this off. Like the most successful risks: shouldn't work, but does.
I'm seriously digging this mature, Valley of the Dolls look. Only a dame pushing fifty could rock this, and Kim Cattrall, for once, feels as sure-footed as a mountain goat.
I was seriously shocked by Donna Karan's blowsy red ensemble - for a designer who's made her name on understated elegance and good fit, this is almost - I'll just say
it - a crime against fashion.
You know how I said Maggie's outfit shouldn't work, but does? Well this one on Naomi Campbell doesn't - YSL or no. (Although as close to working MC Hammer pants as
I've seen in many a moon.)
Hmm. Eva Longoria-Parker could have used a tasteful smoking jacket or three to cover her curiously vulgar little number.
I mean, this is Posh we're talking about: this Marc Jacobs is about as understated as she gets! I guess in the right light it could be construed as "flirty." (But that would be one flattering wattage.)
Poor Kim Raver falls into the classic 'bad experimental' trap of looking both dowdy and silly.
I know we just looked at Naomi, but it was imperative that I use an image in which Vogue Managing Editor Andre Leon Talley's slippers were fully visible.