Another Grammy Awards has passed through the fingers of Hollywood’s glitterati. Outfits were worn, some to great effect, while others were ripped to pieces on Twitter and in group chats. Albums were snubbed, Taylor Swift used yet another acceptance speech as a marketing powerpoint and a new generation ascended to dominance.
Of note was Miley Cyrus’ unimaginably large pile of hair, which she teased back into the sort of thing George Michael might have rocked on Top of the Pops in 1985. It’s caused quite the controversy online, as she tends to do, but no more controversy than the propagandistic speech made by the Recording Academy CEO, or the shows of pro-Palestinian solidarity from the brave (and few) who support Artists4Ceasefire.
As I wrote after the Golden Globes red carpet, the whole thing just seems garish and fatalistic, what with an ongoing genocide looming largely unspoken of over the festivities. 120 days of death and decay and unimaginable grief, and we’re expected to take it all in stride when the largest concentration of power in the music industry is harnessed by those who advocate for the ongoing genocide of Palestinians — or worse, pretend it hasn’t happened at all?
The whole thing ties my stomach up in knots. Thankfully, I have Artists4Ceasefire pins and keffiyeh to write about this time around.
I actually don’t have time to explain the cosmic shift around this custom Margiela. In fact, if I’m forced to work backwards, I’m also going to need to explain Pat McGrath, and glamor and the void of creative energy left behind when that original flavor cocaine made an exit stage left in Hollywood. It’s just too much work! That said, I’d like to commend Cyrus for once again jamming her Tabis in the door of awards show progress and belting “Flowers” through the crack.
I’d also like to briefly touch on her tribute to Tina Turner shortly after accepting her first-ever Grammy. The archive Mackie and quizzical hairdo hit just right. It’s no wonder she also kept the pomp for the carpet, what with the laborious effort required to tease it into shape.
I’ve quite liked Armani and Monáe’s collaborations in the past. Remember that polka dot number at the 2017 Golden Globes? The design house’s legacy of tailoring is perfectly suited for the look they like to present on the carpet. It’s simple, elegant and one of the better applications of sequins we saw last night. (Sorry, Dua! Not you.)
Mother put on Dolce & Gabbana last night and, just for a moment, we’re all going to look the other way. It really is a cunt moment for the Australian songstress, who won her second-ever Grammy last night for “Padam Padam.” She kept with the red motif, which works fabulously for her.
Everyone knows by now I like silliness and fun. Summer Walker leaned into both for this look. It’s almost approaching glamor’s event horizon, and it’s simultaneously rushing towards the shadow of camp. Everything from the gloves to the tilt of the hat to the length of the feather is almost too much, and that’s how one has to play these looks. She hit the mark!
Overnight, hitmaker Victoria Monét became a three-time Grammy winner. Look at her go! Her emotional speech for “Best New Artist” spoke of a plant whose roots have been growing deep under the industry for over a decade. Now it’s her time to bloom, and what a show she’s made of it! The multi-hyphenate wore Atelier Versace, which is the best sort of thing to wear when expecting to snatch up multiple awards in a single night. The clothes just radiate power. Even though the snake necklace doesn’t feel like it quite matches, I’ve imagined it’s an ode to Megan Thee Stallion and made peace with it. Bravo, Monét!
Joan Summers complimented boygenius in PAPER? Brooklyn is going to be gossiping about this for weeks, months even, unless I wrap this up quickly. The besuited avatars of sad gay people and bisexual women everywhere wore Thom Browne. As is common with looks by Thom Browne, they looked sharp enough on the carpet. That said though, the standout piece of the ensembles were the Artists4Ceasefire pins they adorned on their lapels. On a night where the loser who runs the Recording Academy parroted zionist propaganda onstage, the pins shined quite bright.
I’d also like to give a brief shoutout to Esperanza Spalding as well. The singer wrapped herself in a keffiyeh. While the outfit wasn’t taken to a place of red carpet fashion, now isn’t really the time to fixate on things like fashion, don’t we all agree?
As others have mentioned on Twitter and beyond, Doja Cat’s Dilara Findikoglu ensemble was almost a direct ripoff of model Fashion LaBeija, AKA @tightcorsetloosemorals. Beyond any overt comparison though, the look just doesn’t come together in the slightest. Sorry, Dilara! To fake tattoo the designer on the forehead is a funny idea though. If only her sense of humor was actually funny these days.
Is Paris Hilton still invited to this shindig because she stands behind her laptop and presses play occasionally? If that’s true, then there’s a few other DJs I’d like to see before she ever makes an appearance on the carpet. This Reem Acra dress is also not the wave, even if the bones of something interesting, something very Versace even, bubble under the surface. She looks like if Madame Web knew what ketamine was and had a gay assistant she didn’t pay enough.
Oh, brother. I’ve grown weary of the Schiaparelli moment that is shamelessly deployed by stylists who think it will make a splash for their glamor lacking clientele. However, I’m wary to say much more, as I’d still like to have my job tomorrow. Better luck next time!
Lana Del Rey
There’s something deeply sad about this dress. It’s not just that it’s an odd fit, or that it’s mid-length, or that she’s styled it all with a deep black bang. More so, it reminds me of the sort of thing one of Don Draper’s mistresses would have worn to tell him they’re dying and can’t be seeing him late at night in the Midtown hotel anymore. He’s just bought himself another old fashioned and told her: “I don’t know why you think I’d care about something like that. We’re nothing. Not to each other, not to ourselves.” The comment stings deeply, because she thought she’d be the mistress to change him finally. She rushes out, and he gives a lackluster chase, only to watch her get plowed into by the bus she had to catch back to the Lower East Side. An episode later, he goes to her funeral and is punched in the face by her adult son, who she raised as a single mother. He later punishes Peggy for it.
I do have to commend Baby Phat for its enduring relevance, and Ice Spice’s ability to always dress like it’s the VMAs afterparty. I think both of those things are reason enough for praise — even if they’re the only reason that currently exists.
Maybe it’s the Barbie, maybe it's the fact I otherwise like Chrome Hearts as a label, maybe it’s the tiny glasses, maybe it’s the silhouette, and maybe it’s the fact that I’m bored of Billie winning awards at things she otherwise acts like she’s above. Stand up, Billie! Give me something new to look at.
Photos via Getty Images