So who got the memo?
This year, the memo was No Boobs. They should be small to start with (no eating, lots of exercise, appropriate genetics), and covered up. Ideally to the collar bone. But good, boned strapless will do. This was the most restrained, flesh-free Golden Globes that Nonie remembers. The Globes used to be the happy, let it all hang out awards, but now they are just more of a checklist of what people won’t be wearing to the Oscars.
Look at them, Julianne Moore and Ann Hathaway and Naomi Watts in their custom designed Tom Ford, and Chanel, and Zac Posen.
Do you know what? It was so elegant and perfectly toned and styled that Nonie was at some points *whisper it* almost bored. She longed for a flash of old Cher, or Sharon Stone. She hankered for Joan Collins (a role, it’s true, increasingly taken by J-Lo. Thank you, J-Lo). She could have done with one off-message, come-as-you-are celebrity, with an off-message lumpy, normal body shape, dressed in something funny and entertaining that she chose herself, for the hell of it.
But it was not to be. Apart from Helena Bonham Carter, who did her usual mad lace Vivienne Westwood (I assume) thing, but Nonie has seen it so many times before that it’s become a bit of a uniform. Nonie is fussy these days. Nonie likes her eccentric celebrities to mix it up a little.
Funny and entertaining was left to Tina Fey and Amy Poeller. And they delivered. ‘Oh my gosh – that was HILARY CLINTON’S HUSBAND!’ just about summed up the tone of the night. (If you want some great pictures and quotes, try the Guardian, here.) Women rocked. They knew it. It was a good day to be a toned, Hollywood female in a floor-length column designer dress. (Which, just to be clear, is great, but will be even greater when a woman, basically, can look as good as Harvey Weinstein, rather than feeling the need to look as good as his wife, Georgia Chapman. Harvey’s the one with Daniel Craig …)
One of the few people not to get the memo about boobs was Clare Danes. Or quite probably she got it, but she needed her boobs to be readily available for the FOUR WEEK (count ’em) old baby she’s breastfeeding. She looked incredible, I’ll admit, but in a superhuman way. Only try this at home if you have a personal trainer, a top nutritionist, a nanny (presumably), Versace on tap and alien genes. It’s not normal, I’m telling you. At least she said this was the first time she’d been out of sweat pants.
Incredible in a way Nonie finds it easier to want to emulate was Jodie Foster, who got the Cecil B de Mille award from Robert Downey (or as we like to call him Robert Yummy) Jr. Impossible to imagine this woman is 50. She is one of those people who’s redefining what 50 is. And 50 is gay, if that’s how it works for you, and powerful, strong, articulate, elegant (she got the memo about the boobs) moving, and as private as you can make it. When you’re that good (and I’ve been a Jodie fan ever since she was Tallulah in Bugsy Malone), you can afford not to have a fragrance or a reality TV show. Go Jodie.
You can also afford to be friends with Mel Gibson. Nonie admires her loyalty on that score, and her ability to stick two fingers up to public opinion. But Mel? Well, nobody’s perfect.
Anyway, Nonie’s favourite looks of the evening? (Ben Affleck won Best Film and Director for Argo, by the way. Other than that, Nonie was basically there for the frocks and updos.)
Anne Hathaway, for her gorgeous hair and face, and general loveliness. (see above)
Julianne Moore, for being able to call up Tom Ford and say ‘make me look gorgeous’ – and succeeding (also above).
Julianne Hough, Ryan Seacrest’s girlfriend, for wearing white and gold fluffy Monique Lhuillier in a way that somehow managed to look edgy and cool, not Disney and ew. See what she did there? She had fun with it. Definitely a win.
Katharine McPhee in Theyskens Theory. For going off-message on the memo about the boobs (not that Nonie requires acres of cleavage as a rule), but mostly for wearing a dress that reminded Nonie EXACTLY of her favourite black satin Daisy Doll evening dress, as designed by Mary Quant in the 1970s. If she’d gone blonder and worn it with black platforms, she would have been Daisy.
Jennifer Lawrence. For being Nonie’s favourite actress of the moment. For the little black belt on the Dior dress. The boobs on this one were bizarre, but she carried it off and she glowed. Oh yeah, and she also won. Deservedly. Woo.
Marilyn Cottillard, also in red Dior. On-trend colour, but otherwise off-centre dress. A bit different. Also looks quite comfy to walk around and sit down in. Loving it.
Adele. For being Adele. Loving the hair, the makeup and the neckline, as always. Loving the body shape. But not sure about the rest of the Burberry dress. Nonie has seen Adele look much gorgeouser than this. Is she saving it for the Oscars? Nonie isn’t sure.
And now the rest …
Not Jessica Chastain’s finest hour, nor Calvin Klein’s. Nonie knows she said she likes lumpy bodies, but she doesn’t like Hollywood bodies being made to look sad and droopy by weird, drapey necklines. No, Jessica, no.
Taylor Swift. The woman looks gorgeous, of course. Nonie is just cross with her for using Harry Styles for a bit of pre-Christmas publicity. That is what Nonie thinks happened, and little will persuade her otherwise. Nonie used to be a dyed-in-the-wool Taylor fan. Now she thinks she’s just a little bit … plastic. Nonie is sad about this. Loved the earrings, though.
Eva – listen love: Angelina did the leg thing last year. It’s over. Let it go.
And that’s all from the Golden Globes this year. Nonie awaits the Oscars and BAFTAs with bated breath, and has Fashion Police set to record on Virgin Large.
Pictures from Glamour and Zimbio. Click on a photo to get to their sites.