Another year, another round of award shows doling out little metal trophies to folks who may or may not deserve them. But the fun is not in who wins what as much as it is in who wears what. So, let the self tanner application, lapses in style judgement, and wardrobe malfunctions begin and let’s kick things off with last night’s American Music Awards.
While it’s been a while since I’ve tuned in, some things remain exactly as they did a year ago… and beyond. These include but are not limited to:
They’re still letting Chris Brown perform. Why they even let him out of his cage, I’ll never know, but this white girl won’t be dancing like it’s her birthday when his songs come on. Ever.
Jenny McCarthy is still hot.
You still can’t touch MC Hammer.
Christina Aguilera still wears leotards when she probably shouldn’t (but she can still sing like nobody’s business, so we’ll give her a pass).
Pitbull is still making songs that don’t make any logical sense in English or Spanish.
Crowding the stage with babes in bedazzled bustiers will still cover up any bad performance.
Taylor Swift is still singing about some boy who did her wrong in something that resembles a bad prom dress.
Nicki Minaj is still in need of a time out.
Pink could still kick your ass.
No Doubt is still as rad as ever.
And while it’s nice to have a bit of stability in your life, I’m a little concerned about America’s choices in music. Perhaps that’s a better indicator of the state of our nation? One thing that does seem to be changing is Justin Bieber’s voice (anyone else catch that?) which was quite clear after hearing him dedicate his win to the “haters” (he realizes he’s an eighteen year old 98lb white kid, right?). So, I decided I was going to come up with my own award categories that seem much, much more important:
Color of the Evening:
Most in Need of a New Hairstyle:
So, let’s step it up, folks. We’ll consider this a “warm up.” A “rehearsal” if you will. Last time I checked, which was just now, my socks are still on, so no one particularly blew me away. Bring on the crazy… I’ve gotta have something to write about.
Apologies for the tardiness of my Billboard Music Awards Red Carpet Recap… my dog, Smitty, was getting his teeth cleaned (see ya later, halitosis) and apparently that’s what the rest of us should have been doing rather than watching anyway. First of all, are we really still letting Chris Brown perform (let alone letting him out of his cage)? Remember when you built your Sunday evening around catching a music awards show? Popcorn and all? They were the “fun” award shows. Well, either I’m getting old or the music industry (and America) need to get it together, STAT. Since, very clearly, it can’t be the former, step it up singers and lady songbirds! Despite the snooze inducing show, the red carpet, as always, did not disappoint… and I don’t necessarily mean that in a good way…
Katy Perry (in Blumarine) is looking quite the Teese.
Julianne Hough saved time by just wearing her Kaufman Franco towel.
Wearing Oscar de la Renta, Carrie Underwood proves (yet again) there’s no place like home.
We all know Miley Cyrus isn’t scared of a little Risky Business in Jean Paul Gaultier.
Wait… was this a music award show or a movies award show? Hmph.
So, apparently Chris Brown dyed his hair back to its natural color this weekend. This makes me think that one of his elders must have sat him down with a DVD of Sisqo’s music videos and gave him a long hard lecture about where his blonde ‘do might lead his career. No, no, don’t worry about physically assaulting a woman or flipping out on Good Morning America. What’s going to ruin your career, young man, is that damn highlighter blonde hair. I know, Eminem tried it too, but even he has gone au naturale. Besides, Chris… you are no Eminem.
All of Chris Brown’s snazzy new tats only leave me wondering whether or not he also copied Sisqo’s belly button ring of fire, aka one of the worst tattoos on record.
So are the rumors true? Do blondes really have more fun?
And in the off chance that you are part of the .027% of the population who doesn’t know what the Thong Song is…