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It’s strange times. We know it, and everybody on the red carpet at the SAG Awards knows it; the ceremony was peppered with speeches about the fractured state of the union, as if everyone was both aware that it’s easy for things like this to look frivolous during political turbulence, and also as if everyone was so utterly gobsmacked by how little time it took to fracture that union that it was an impossible topic to avoid. Like Annalise Basso, we as a nation are hurling our gigantic chiffon scarves of outrage against the winds of tyranny, opening our arms against the tide of fascism like a drop-shoulder evening gown that actually lets you open your arms.

Related: I’m going to do this rundown, and we’re going to get into the usual A Slightly More Bohemian Red Carpet Is Not An Excuse For That Dress commentary. However, we’re going to open with a section of politicized outfits alongside potential organizations to consider if you, like me, want to do your part but also just want to look at nice dresses for five minutes instead of staring at Twitter in horror while you speed-dial your representatives with new things to lodge concerns about since the last time you called them four hours ago.

 

LET’S GET POLITICAL DIVISION

Yara Shahidi, in the look of the night; bright but with a palette that stops just short of being candy-striped, and with that great, sharp shape on the bodice. She’s spoken publicly about the Muslim ban; you can donate to the National Immigration Law Center here, or investigate other organizations here.

 

Gina Rodriguez, who is definitely able to wear a gorgeous skintight beaded dress like it’s a sweatshirt in fashion editorials, but still aware when in a skintight dress, you have to mark the waist with one hand, and pop one knee, and do all the things that a red carpet demands that you do so you can avoid Anna Chlumskying yourself by accidentally looking relaxed at any point, since being relaxed might affect the botanical and bird beading, and that’s the last thing you want when so many environmental protections are in danger from the new administration. Donate to the Environmental Defense Fund here.

 

Octavia Spencer, whose red-carpet style is getting increasingly daring. The mesh neckline/drop-shoulder ratio feels slightly off – it’s vaguely the silhouette of a widow in 1840 who’s already making plans to reel in a young rake before he can blow off the rest of his fortune, which is a perfectly fine look, but maybe not also when you’re trying to sell that dramatic a peplum. Still, with this and her suit on the Golden Globes carpet, I like where she’s going. She also likes the ACLU. You can follow her lead and donate here.

 

Samira Wiley, adorably dressed in a SAG-perfect cocktail sheath printed with what I can only assume is the 1957 Better Homes and Gardens textile of the year; coincidentally, an era when homosexuality was illegal and LGBT people had no labor or housing protections! You can donate to Lambda Legal here or GLAAD here.

 

Emma Stone, bravely reminding us that even in times when federal funding to major cities is threatened, museums must not be allowed to fall into disrepair, like a delicately embellished dress that’s fallen away to reveal a 1994 Frederick’s of Hollywood bodysuit is the only thing keeping it up. You can find, and donate to, a museum in the city of your choice at Museums USA.

 

Janelle Monae, whose red carpet persona is a series of performance art pieces I have stopped trying to judge by any standard rubric; that skirt looks like nothing so much as a city map, which is surely a wink to how many protest marches we have and will see under this administration. She is an outspoken supporter of Black Lives Matter; you can participate in or donate to Black Lives Matter here.

 

Natalie Portman, cosplaying as an iceberg in a bitingly on-point commentary about the ecological dangers of Arctic drilling. You can take action with or donate to the Sierra Club here.

 

Angela Sarafyan, drawing our attention to the looming health-care crisis in a dress printed with what looks like penumonia, a disease that’s especially dangerous to those whose immune systems are compromised by, say, cancer, which is why low-cost access to cancer screening is so crucial. You can donate to Planned Parenthood here.

 

Nicole Kidman, who knows that a government’s unwillingness to commit to climate change research means that protecting extant ecosystems will become more important than ever, except for whichever birds were killed for that shoulder treatment. You can donate to the Rainforest Foundation here.

 

Samantha Isler. In one way, this dress is a 1970s BBC miniseries interpretation of an 1860s housecoat. In another, however, that sting in your eyes you get when you look at it isn’t only a color/pattern problem, but a reminder that America’s veterans (many of whom are joining protest movements against the Trump administration) are deeply under-served by the government; you can research and donate to any of dozens of veteran-specific charities here.

 

Diane Guerrero, making a timely point about the dark cloud that oncoming fascism is casting across the arts, and the gigantic cut to public-access arts budgets in the wake of recent events. You can donate to PBS here or NPR here.

 

Viola Davis looks great. Somehow she always manages to let us know necklines like this are ridiculous without actually looking uncomfortable in them. Fun fact: If she’d lost the award and a spontaneous protest had broken out about it, it’s likely that protesters would be arrested and require legal aid. Donate to National Lawyers Guild here or the the NAACP Legal Defense Fund here.

 

Teresa Palmer’s Deco dress is great; it’s interesting to see the effect of a t-shirt neckline on a gown this intense, and her team undercut any risk of looking like she was taking the SAG red carpet too seriously by giving her very neutral makeup and the hair that TV always pretends women have after they’ve air-dried it while running after their incompetent husbands and insufferable children for 22 or 42 minutes, depending. It’s very soothing to see good work being done by people who want to help, isn’t it? Donate to the Southern Poverty Law Center here.

 

Danielle Brooks, who’s usually rock-solid on the red carpet, but has chosen to wear an outfit that somehow looks more like a deeply influential diplomat visiting the NCC-1701-D to finalize negotiations for joining the Federation. You can honor her vision for this outfit by supporting the future of Black girls in science fiction and donating to the Octavia Project here.

 

Kathryn Hahn. Like this dress, the Dakota Access Pipeline is a poorly-planned disaster that needs to stop. You can donate to Stand with Standing Rock here.

 

 

Of course, not everything on the red carpet was a political statement. Some people were unaware of my plans for this blog post and just wore regular dresses that they hoped I would get to afterwards!

For the SAGs, they generally end up in a single division, because this is the red carpet equivalent of a fancy cocktail party at somebody’s summer house. Everybody wants to look good because it’s an Event, but they also want to look different from everybody else in a really fun way that just reminds other actors how fun and special they are. In some ways, this is interesting because it’s implicit permission to break from the unspoken traditions of 1) maintaining your current character in an extremely low-key way throughout awards season, or 2) secretly using the carpet to audition for other stuff, and the results are always interesting.

On the other hand, this time there were enough goth looks for me to appreciate them separately. (And I do appreciate them! They all look very nice.)

 

PUNK ENCLAVE GOTH-NIGHT DIVISION

Maggie Siff, Lena Headey’s stand-in for punk enclave business that happens at enough of a distance people can’t really tell the difference, in a dress that signals she understands the importance of the position. (It also, at the right angle, signals Batman.)

 

Gretchen Mol, accessorizing her goth flapper with a medallion to summon He Who Casts No Shadow from the depths of the Other Realm, in case the party goes late and they need a designated driver.

 

Gwendoline Christie might be a spaceship pilot now, but she’s never going to give up her goth-punk roots. Never. Ride or die.

 

Uzo Aduba, who looks thirty seconds shy of launching into a torch-song rendition of “Something I Can Never Have.” (It would be awesome.)

 

Nathalie Emmanuel. Is there anything more punk than dressing like Rockefeller Center? (There is, but who cares.)

 

Kirsten Dunst, who has accessorized her filmy white dress with the half-hearted rictus of an actress who wants nothing more than to play dour jerks for the rest of her career because she is tired of pretending that she was ever an ingenue; she has belonged in the punk enclave since she played a tiny, bitter child vampire.

 

Claire Foy, trying the end-of-Grease makeover in an attempt to sneak into the punk enclave. It mostly works! It’s certainly a dress that keeps you looking; I’m just not sure that prolonged exposure does this dress any good. It’s still a smart choice for her as she tries to shake off any suggestion of dowdiness in the wake of Queen Elizabeth, but compare this to her look from the Globes and you can tell that this one wears her in a way the other one didn’t.

 

And if you didn’t make it into the punk enclave, there’s only one place left to go.

 

THE EVERYBODY ELSE DIVISION

Michelle Dockery. To me the most interesting thing about this was that she took a little break from the red carpet after Downton Abbey, and now she’s on a TNT show (she’s great in it, the show has a few big problems, that’s not the point right now). Taking an acting break and coming back on a TNT show is apparently a step down; she showed up noticeably early on the carpet for someone who’s gone from lead to lead. (The dress is fine; it was probably not worth showing up in stripes after Yara Shahidi, but Michelle Dockery’s team couldn’t have known that. It’s the risk you always run with a trend. Just ask Mayim Bialik, in a dress with a very nice shape and stripes that work right until you hit the pastel band.)

 

Taraji P. Henson. She is going to get the absolute most out of every second of this red carpet, and I admire her for it. (The more I look at it, the more I appreciate things like the line of the embellishment above the chest that subtly creates the space for face-framing epaulet action on a sheer mesh; the more I look at it, the more I wish she had ripped those stupid tiny black bows off before she got out of the car.)

 

Thandie Newton. I went on a journey about my feelings for this dress, because if you asked me about any particular aspect of it, I’d probably agree it’s a bit odd. (Blue lining on the football-pad shoulder? Disconnected black velvet collar on top of a dress that, in the red-carpet lighting, looks not unlike oatmeal? Stylizing your carnival-horse print to look like cave paintings?) However, Thandie Newton has shown up to this red carpet feeling goddamn great about her dress, and she’s openly daring anyone not to like it, and sometimes open hostility is exactly what you want from a look, so my final verdict is that she looks great and I won’t be able to explain why.

 

Evan Rachel Wood wore a tux again! It’s beautifully fitted (the satin lapels are perfectly cut to both emphasize the breadth of the shoulders and to draw the eye up instead of out). I didn’t look, so let’s just hope she didn’t make another speech about it.

 

Clea DuVall’s suit is incredible, and honestly, I really like that the jewelry is so understated; the impulse to do chunky jewelry is always there when you’re suiting someone up for a big photo op, but the restraint really works. Pristine “the SAGs are a cocktail party” vibe.

 

Dasha Polanko, with chunky jewelry! It works, especially with the slouchier silhouette, though combining it with the lingerie and the finger waves begins to look a little costumey. (Also, though I like the silhouette and suspect this is just a matter of unfortunate fabric friction, somebody robbed her a crucial trial run on this; catching at either the bust or the crotch isn’t good when so much depends on a clean line, and both at once…)

 

See? Tracee Ellis Ross’ dress isn’t catching on anything! That business is a well-oiled machine.

 

Bryce Dallas Howard, in very nice 1930s merlot sequins. She has not yet mastered the art of looking relaxed on the red carpet, which will affect her overall look until she works it out.

 

 

Maisie Williams. I really like this look for her; she seems slightly less convinced, though that might just be this photograph. It’s definitely one of her first tries at the classic “lie down in the back of the car so your dress doesn’t wrinkle” silhouette, but pairing it with the noir lip helps keep it interesting.

 

Emily Blunt. Part of me understands and appreciates the Versailles-fancy-dinner-plate details of this look, and it’s a great evening sleeve, which I’m always a sucker for. But 1) the beeeeeeeige, and 2) that underbust detail.

 

Amy Adams has generally settled into a sleek, understated red carpet routine that makes sense for her; the selling point of this look is the jewelry, which might be the best jewelry she’s ever worn. Slightly unusual, perfect for her eyes, and highlights the sharp line h of her decolletage by drawing attention away from it.

 

Salma Hayek. Look, do I think this is reminiscent of the Easter Barbie 1986 Special Edition? I do. But look at her. Are you going to tell her that? I’m not gonna.

 

Naomie Harris. I really like the idea of this outfit. I’m just not sure I like any actual aspect of how it turned out, except that Naomie Harris is in it, and that’s just not enough this time.

 

I was wrong before; Anna Chlumsky’s team is definitely doing image control after the Golden Globes. There is no possible way to crease, fold, or balloon this dress into the suggestion that, horror of horrors, she might have gained weight; this dress is not going to leave one ounce to the imagination.

 

And last: Who keeps doing this to Kaley Cuoco? Who keeps letting this happen.

 

Welcome back to awards season! It’s all happening. It’s alllll happening.

Luckily, we know the drill by now: the show is too long and either grindingly awkward or screechingly awful, and the awards handed out are an exercise in the surreal. This time around, the Golden Globes managed to be even more impressively head-scratchy and off-putting than usual, and I hope nobody here watched them. Instead, let’s just get right to the important part: the red carpet that demands its own set of acting skills, where you have to manage the press pit without looking like you’re actually worried about impressing anybody, and then somehow deliver perfect pictures and ironclad sound bites in the middle of it.

Don’t believe me? Here’s Emmy Rossum, who is somehow unspeakably good at performative effortlessness, looking like a screencap from “Seducing The Press Pit: The Emmy Rossum Story”:

And here’s Kate Bosworth, looking like a doll you’ve taken out of the big box but still have to separate from the cardboard backing:

Whoever taught Kate Bosworth her poses for tonight was not her friend. Buy better friends, Bosworth!

By now (especially if you’ve been reading my rundowns) we’ve all talked plenty about the performative aspect of all this. Witness Alicia Vikander, whose Sunday involved a day in a hotel room with two people and a hidden mirror person working on her simultaneously, so she could go out on the red carpet looking carefree and underdone. Obviously it’s fascinating, and an ecosystem that easily supports itself, and we recognize its absurdity as sort of a necessary step before we can get down to the fun stuff.

There’s a lot of talk about “winning” the red carpet, which I understand from a “which makeup artist gets to charge twice as much next month” perspective, but honestly, this red carpet has really pulled together to the point that, aside from the occasional stumble, there aren’t huge mistakes. It’s become an incredibly genteel, vapid, vaguely racist competition over whose polish is the most polished – who can climb the mountains of designer loaners, dragging with her only the finest stylists, and stand atop the 360-degree camera with a smile that says, “No, trust me, I fucking know.” Really, there’s no particular Look of the Night when everyone’s got this much prep behind them.

Brie Larson, for example, was not wearing the evening’s best dress, but it is absolutely the dress of someone who is dressing to match the award everyone knows she’s going to get:

It looks ever so slightly like the glow of an upcoming win is making her dress melt, doesn’t it? That dress does exactly what it needs to do.



LOOKS OF THE NIGHT

That said, Helen Mirren kind of tore down that 360-degree cam booth and fucking ate it to cement her victory, you know?



Double-act winner:

Jessica and David Oyelowo. He is always impeccably tailored and slightly ahead of the curve (you will never be able to tell me his burgundy at last year’s Oscars wasn’t one of the things that influenced The Rock and Jason Statham this year). She has a great sense of style that’s understated but just personal enough that you feel like if you got stuck in an elevator with her, her phone would work and she’d kind of pretend she was as nervous as you after she hung up just so the mood in the elevator would be evened out, you know?

Superhero Movie winner:

Regina King and Laverne Cox. Laverne is as impeccable as always; Regina is in a lovely gown with a completely extraneous cape that we can only assume she wore as a subtle hint that she and Laverne are about to announce a superhero project, because can you imagine these two as 1930s singers who use their traveling careers as a cover for their nightly vigilante work? What I am saying is, call me.



Why The Hell Not winner:

Denis O’Hare. My only wish for this outfit is that we’d gotten a better look at the rings, though since the rest of this look is kinda perfect, let’s assume they’re cool.

And while I spent literally an entire hour of my life with a “trend report” show in which people asked stylists what they thought celebrities were likely to wear, the major trend was, as always, What I’m Planning to Do After This Project, Thanks. (In fairness to the show, it was wretchedly stupid; at one point, the host asked a stylist what Jennifer Lawrence, whose red carpet looks are all part of her endorsement deal with Dior, could possibly wear on the red carpet that looked glamorous, given how “dressed-down” she was in JOY. For half a second, the stylist’s eyes filled with horror at the possibility they might actually have to explain to a grown adult how movies work. Unfortunately for all of us, that moment passed.)

One trend that I am always excited about: The Evening Sleeve!

EVENING SLEEVE DIVISION

Bryce Dallas Howard. Her red-carpet anecdote was a good one, and she came locked and loaded: she bought her own dress at Neiman Marcus because she’s a size 6, and she wanted “more than one” option, which is the frothiest possible way to silently condemn designers without actually hurting your future chances. It’s a really smart dress pick, too; understated silhouette, sexy but not too sexy for potential serious leading lady roles, with glimmer that doesn’t seem too young for the single-mother dramas award shows thrive on. Clever girl. (YEAH, I DID, AND I AM SORRY.)

Judith Light makes a white tux look like a no-brainer. I have no idea how you do that, but Judith Light sure does!

Uzo Aduba looking gorgeous in a gorgeous dress whose sleeves may or may not actually be a single loop of fabric in the back. That is certainly a bold fashion choice if so, but only if you don’t plan on having to reach for anything, and given that the Globes are a dinner party, we can all assume Uzo Aduba is a lot less concerned about knocking over her water glass than I am now or have ever been.

Taraji P. Henson. There were cleaner photos of her in her caped gown (the waist cape is the new evening sleeve), but honestly this one was worth it just for the expression on the dude behind her, who has just realized how hard she’s wearing that dress and that her intensity about it could knock him sideways at any moment. (Also, those earrings look heavy enough to bruise; she is not playing around.)

Viola Davis. The color is beautiful, the detailing divine. However, you must decide whether you are going to wear a cape or an evening sleeve. Splitting the difference hardly ever works.

You know when a friend does something they know you think is slightly terrible, but it’s not terrible enough to ruin the entire friendship, and they have no regrets, and so when they tell you about it they get the instantly recognizable face where they’re just daring you to give them shit about it? That is Cate Blanchett in this fringey cape-sleeve soutache nonsense gown and Steven Universe hair. I’m stung she would do this to me.

Of course, the other trend this year was equally close to my heart, which will come as no surprise to anyone who has read The Girls at the Kingfisher Club.

NIGHTCLUB OWNERS OF HISTORY DIVISION

History is long; these dresses are great/hilarious; let’s own some nightclubs.

Saoirse Ronan, Lothlorien hostess.

So it’s like 1540, only a really Disney 1540, and Jennifer Jason Leigh owns a roadside inn where she has started a standing flirtation with the man she thinks is one of the king’s messengers….but is he secretly the King Himself? (It’s Disney, he is. But in a surprise twist, she turns him down to keep her financial independence and they end up as occasional hookup-and-advice buddies. She’s skeptical, but I promise, it’ll work out.)

Kirsten Dunst. It is 1835, she is a vampire, she runs exactly the kind of nightclub she wants to run, and she is looking to put her cigarette out in somebody’s eye. Glorious.

Gina Rodriguez. It’s 1850mumble, and Gina Rodriguez throws incredibly lavish parties at her giant estate, where she sends her network of lady spies into the crowd to flatter crucial information out of high-ranking enemies. They never know what hit them.

Natalie Dormer is a saloon owner in 1884 and if the décor is half as awkward as this neckline/shoulder combo, never go there.

it’s 1914. You can definitely get into Eva Green’s nightclub. The question is whether you ever make it out again. (You don’t. She’s also a vampire. She got her seed money from Kirsten Dunst. They’re all in this together; the nightclub business doesn’t run itself.)

Honestly, do we have proof Maggie Gyllenhaal ISN’T the owner of a nightclub in 1924? Because, I mean.

Jaimie Alexander is an incredibly stage-frighty Deco nightclub owner who dresses like the drapes so she can sneak unseen among her clientele. (Her love story is the incredibly shy guy she knocks into by accident while he’s trying to avoid talking to someone. They have a beautiful relationship no one ever sees.)

America Ferrera. It’s 1940, and she’s a Hollywood go-to for when you need a gal who can sing and dance and deliver a punchline. Her nightclub (a side business that’s also a little insurance) is A-list only, except she keeps sneaking in young women she’s met who are stuck with shitty stage work or trying to usher to make ends meet, because there’s no better story than a girl who gets discovered by accident, right? (She’s also a vampire; she rides the “But you never age!” train for a good forty years before she has to lay low a while and start again in some other city.)

Lady Gaga runs the sort of 1956 supper club where everybody on the cover of a pulp novel shows up every single night and subtexts the place into a frenzy.

There has never been a more 1970s nightclub owner than Julianne Moore in this dress, unless you were making a 1970s SF film about a retro future in which she’s actually the chanteuse of a Deco nightclub on the moon, in which case, fine, you win.

Technically Melissa McCarthy is also here, and honestly, I am so torn about this dress, which is a beautiful color in a really weird finish. The silhouette is actually great—I absolutely understand the desire to have as comfortable a red carpet getup as possible and this is very 1920s in a very 1970s way—but her style for more casual stuff is always vaguely Executive Goth in a way I can really get behind, and I wish we could see more of that on the carpet.

Kate Hudson. I have never seen so 1998 an outfit, including throughout the entirety of 1998.

It’s like, 2027 or whatever, and Carly Chaikin owns a nightclub because like, why the fuck not, you know? Fuckin’ meatspace bullshit. Wear a mermaid pelt and just get over it already.

Jennifer Lopez, who spoke the magic words and was transported to a galaxy far, far away, where she landed without a single teeter on those 6-inch heels and immediately proceeded to take over the first building she saw and turn it into the glitziest nightclub in town in under 48 hours. (Those magic words: “Oh, Angelina Jolie thinks she has legs? That’s interesting. That’s very interesting. And she downplayed the rest of her outfit, you say? VERY interesting. Perhaps I shall show her who first had legs.”)

And finally, a temporal distortion, in which Jenna Dewan Tatum from the year 2123 and Jada Pinkett-Smith from the year 1933 accidentally own the SAME nightclub separated only by time; when they discover they can pass back and forth, they’ll have to contend with the ethical issues of trying to change the future…for all the right reasons. (Their husbands just leave. Bye.)

I HAVE QUESTIONS DIVISION

Cate should have gone here; literally only her sleeves put her elsewhere.

Caitriona Balfe. My major question about this is whether Lena Headey knows someone is coming for her Punk Enclave title in this Goth Screwball Comedy Musical Number Lingerie business.

Rooney Mara, a lovely actress whose floaty-seaweed tendencies on the red carpet combined with her nervousness can occasionally work perfectly to make her look like an amazing haunted doll. This is not one of those times. Tonight, she is a regular doll whose dress is being peeled away in thready strips by a child who’s been locked in the attic for years and is three chapters away from yanking Rooney’s doll-head off and carrying that unblinking talisman with her as she murders everyone in her family in a desperate, bloody quest for freedom.

Alicia Vikander. Weirdly, I have no problems with the fact that this dress is meant to be so effortless that it’s literally an apron. When you are nominated in two categories you are unlikely to win, it’s the smartest thing in the world to look like you don’t reeaaaaally care about it enough to get more dressed up than Sleek Garden Party. It’s just the pinafore ruffle that makes her look, ever so slightly, like Molly the American Girl.

Sarah Hay. If you’re asking “Who?” and something clicks into place half a second before I say, “From that ballet show,” this dress has done exactly what she wants it to do. I’ll direct the rest of my questions to the tulle puffs.

Jennifer Lawrence. Okay. so.

That is a Full Hostage Face. She is not comfortable in this (perfectly nice, even very nice!) dress, her hair is some really meta Vertigo business, the necklace looks like a collar holding her head on, and she has performed the Red Carpet Crosslegs despite no one being able to tell. And there was a time, a few years ago, when she still seemed like the well-meaning, oblivious, iffy girl on the same floor of your dorm, who you’d never take on a road trip but can probably talk you into hilarious parties if you ever go to those. She smartly turned obliviousness into her calling card; it was close enough to candor for late-night.

For about two years after Winter’s Bone, I thought her potential was enormous, and really looked forward to what came next. By now I’m at a point with her where she’s “The young woman who was amazing in Winter’s Bone,” which makes me kind of sad. (I thought she was good in Hunger Games, and had some amazing moments in things like American Hustle, but David O. Russell is not doing her any long-term favors, Bradley Cooper is an albatross with carefully groomed scruff, and she’s got to get out of there.)

Backstage, she scolded a journalist who was using his phone to translate a question for her about what she thought this meant for the Oscars. Hopefully the fallout from that will be its own punishment, because Jennifer Lawrence: it’s past time to start thinking about this stuff.

But let’s end this on some other note, shall we?

LAST MINUTE DANGEROUS LIAISONS DIVISION

Melissa Benoist IS Cecile, the young ingenue swept up in Valmont’s underhanded seduction!

Ana de la Reguera IS Madame de Tourvel, whose strength and candor will break Valmont’s heart open like a raw egg.

…And that is actually the end of that entire division, because if anyone had giant pannier ballgowns lined up for Merteuil, they’re saving them for the Oscars and the Emmys. We’ll just have to put this cast together one event at a time. (But in the meantime, The Rock for Chevalier Danceny, maybe, right?)

Okay, so normally we’d make jokes about showing up at the Emmys to watch Modern Family win things, but thankfully that didn’t happen last night! Instead we’ll talk jokes about the red carpet.

(Here, Regina King, looking lovely, and at least 11 members of staff and crew in a single photo, at the far end of the carpet before things really get going.)

It is absolutely nonsense women tend to get asked who they’re wearing and not much else; while nobody actually wants Ryan Seacrest asking deep questions on the red carpet (imagine his face: “Tatiana, such great acting this year! Tell me, what inherent loneliness informs your work, and has your loneliness only grown since the show started filming?”), if men get real questions, so should women. On the other hand, the red carpet is an image ecosystem; sure, it’s a swamp, but it’s equally self-sustaining, and when so much is riding on it, people will get asked who they’re wearing, because that’s how anybody’s wearing anything.

That necessity sucks. Those who can get away with it (who don’t answer to showrunners, networks, managers) skip the spectacle; I’m fairly sure nobody got a picture of Frances McDormand until her acceptance speech. But tied up with the sublime hilarity of “Oh, Zac Posen and Tiffany” being worth a $20,000 dress loan, $100k in loaner jewelry, a hairstylist, a makeup artist, and a driver – before the event, where security, publicity, and logistics teams are making a month’s salary guiding everyone through the mass of humanity on that red carpet – is the fact that a red carpet is a delicate dance of image management that would probably terrify us if we ever actually knew how much it matters. And it does! It matters to see women of color on the red carpet. It matters to see older women. It matters to see women of different shapes. Is it all a ridiculous, vaguely sinister carnival? You bet. But turns out I love vaguely sinister carnivals, so they won’t scare me away that easy.

Take Jane Krakowski, who is such a dogged player of this game that the line between her and Jenna Maroney is functionally invisible. Is she mocking the high-fashion pose so often struck on the red carpet? She is. Is she doing hostage eyes as a joke? Maybe. Has she worn a strapless dress because she has the toned shoulders and flawless skin of a nineteen-year-old whose blood she might be drinking? Likely. Is she definitely making sure that despite the too-high detail on that bodice that could make her look hippy, you are not going to miss that she has a tiny waist? You’re goddamn right she is; what is she, new?

Often, the Emmys red carpet is the most prom-standard carpet; Emmys can be cyclical, and after a certain point you tend to play a long game. Julia Louis-Drefyus, appearing on her umpteenth red carpet among handfuls of awards, doesn’t even make this list because she wore a perfectly suitable black one-shoulder dress that joins the rest of her collection of perfectly suitable red-carpet dresses. You test out the trends and the showstoppers at the Golden Globes; the Emmys, then, can fade into the background. BUT NOT THIS YEAR. This year, some people came to PLAY.

CAME TO PLAY DIVISION

Joanna Newsom, with the look of the night. I KNOW, I know, it is an odd garment. Conceptual at best. At worst, high fashion icing experiment. But you know, despite seeming unsure how to inhabit it in still shots (the only person I’ve seen wearing something like this like it was jeans and a tee was Cate Blanchett at the 2011 Oscars), she clearly loved it while in motion, and it was so different than the last few years at the Emmys that I love it on principle. My other, slightly bitter, reason to love it is that it’s definitely a Joanna Newsom Dress, right in line with her floaty-weirdo aesthetic. She clearly knew she was going to run into Andy Samberg’s Nameless Wife Syndrome and made sure interns at fashion magazines across the land would have to Google her name to fill out their “WTF is she wearing” headlines. Clever shit.

Christine Marzano, who got that same memo and thought, “I refuse to be Stephen Merchant’s Girlfriend all night. What if I dressed like a stained-glass-themed comic book villain from a Kevin Wada painting?” It worked out.

Tatiana Maslany, in a white tux that’s not too tight and not overly showy (no more cleavage than many other dresses), and is notable largely because after being snubbed, she opted to show up in the sartorial equivalent of “If you insist,” and it looks amazing on her.

Kiernan Shipka! She’s always had a good sense of style on the carpet even as a wee thing, and she’s opted for a slightly-oddball but really chic personal style as she’s gotten older. This looks like a blend of a Star Trek diplomat and one of the photoshoots in Funny Face. I love it, even though Twitter clickbaits all night were like “YOU WON’T BELIEVE WHAT’S UNDER KIERNAN SHIPKA’S DRESS,” and to clarify, 1) gross, what are you doing, and 2) pants. It’s pants. Dress over pants has been a thing for about 60 years. We’ll be fine.

Taraji P. Henson, in probably the worst shot possible of this dress, which only looks good because Taraji P. Henson is wearing it (the bodice is amazing, but that skirt..? It might have registered on camera better in plain mesh instead of odd lace, but as it is it only looked good when she wasn’t moving, and she loved it waaay too much not to move). But it is definitely not a standard Emmys dress, and she is wearing the living fuck out of it, so it counts.

However, you don’t have to take a risk on the Emmys red carpet to look good; in the last couple of years, as red carpets continue to build their own vocabulary, just looking good is often good enough.

LOOKIN’ GOOD DIVISION

Jamie Lee Curtis; minimal, sleek, amazing.

Lena Headey, who continues her unbroken streak as leader of a punk enclave with this Punk Full Formal number, and draws others to her.

Kate McKinnon, heir apparent to the punk enclave, underplaying herself for the moment because she has a long game: Ghostbusters, then an HBO show, then a nice dark comedy for indie cred. She’s looking into the future; she’s seen it all.

Christina Hendricks, who is just dropping by the punk enclave on her way back from some glitzy nightclub to deliver a killer party invite; it’s at her weekend estate, they’re going to have a blast.

Carrie Brownstein, in an outfit I cannot possibly be impartial about after the tux searches I’ve done for Selina Kyle. Thumbs up. Red carpet tuxes forever.

Elisabeth Moss, deciding not to risk another awkward neutral for her last Mad Men carpet, is the prom queen who got bored with her date, grabbed his keys, and drove out into the desert to hang out with the punk enclave.

Lady Gaga, who used to be part of the punk enclave before she married a very old rich man for his money; now she’s on the board of half a dozen companies who had better never cross her, and she stashes a tiny dagger in that hip shelf.

Kim Dickens, who I imagine having the following phone discussion with her stylist before this dress: “I don’t want any fussy stuff. I just – what? Sure, you can find a little sparkle. A LITTLE. Nothing fussy. I don’t like fuss.” Two years from now a recording of that phone call will win her an Emmy.

Kristen Schaal, who probably had the following conversation with her stylist about this dress: “Wheeee!”

Sarah Paulson. Sometimes I am a sucker for dark glitz in clean lines, so this was a no-brainer, and she looks remarkably comfortable for someone who can’t lift her arms. (I am less sure about the hair; I get the futuristic wet-look idea behind it, but eeeeh.)

Viola Davis; not my all-time favorite of hers, but it looks lovely and so does she.

And Angela Bassett, who looks like the spiritual guide in a stylish cartoon about a team of magical heroes who moonlight as minor royalty in a fantasy landscape. Angela Bassett is the dead-but-immortal queen who appears to them like a projection on a waterfall and offers them sage advice and sometimes – sometimes – tough love.



PRISM POWER

Our heroine: Danielle Brooks. Power color: trick question, she’s the heroine, so it’s probably Prism. Her power is channeling energy into any number of crime-fighting uses, but also into running her duchy, which is thriving.

Samira Wiley. Power color: Fuschia. So openhearted that she sometimes talks villains right out of their villainy.

Laverne Cox. Power color: Blue. Can control water, which is probably handy whenever they need to summon Angela Bassett but aren’t near a waterfall.

Gina Rodriguez. Power color: Blush. She can speak to plants! Every allergy-looking skirt flower on this thing secretly does her bidding.

Uzo Aduba. Power color: Also fuschia. (By the rules of cartoon shows she’s probably Samira’s twin sister.) Controls fire and light, which is why her dress either looks like sudden nightfall or couture singe.

Sophie Turner. Power color: indigo. Let’s give her the power of a piledriver punch, why not. (Her power is definitely not picking out lip color that looks good, that is for goddamn sure.)

Gwendoline Christie. Power color: gold. She’s their Spring-Heeled Jack; can cross a league in a single step and barf blue and white flame! (That one’s not on me, that’s the Victorians.)

Padma Lakshmi. Power color: chartreuse. Power: whatever it is, it’s a new thing that she invented. (I wish she looked like she felt a little more stable in the bodice; she has that Red Carpet Concern face a lot of women have when a dress has enough scaffolding that you’re preeeetty sure nothing’s going to happen, but just in case you haven’t consumed solid food for two days and you’re not planning to breathe much.)

David and Jessica Oyelowo, who appear in a Victorian time-travel episode as a PRISM of the past to help our heroines close the time portal before it’s too late!

Joanne Froggatt. She doesn’t have any powers, she’s just around, but with that outfit and that “please let me join whatever fun game you have, literally anything, please just befriend me” face, Danielle will find something for her to do.

Allison Janney, their ally in the Queen’s Palace. (She’s an architecture-bender; that illusion-netting detail is actually just part of her ancestral estate she carries with her all the time.)

Jessica Lange is their royal nemesis, Duchess Charlotte D’Oehsent-Cahrr.

Their magical nemesis? Who else but Lady Spectrum herself, Jaimie Alexander! Look at that entire outfit, from hem to facial expression. Nailed that audition.

THE NO THANKS DIVISION

So here’s a thing about Kerry Washington; she takes some great risks on the red carpet, and that’s always fun. However, recently some of them have seemed like great ideas on paper and somehow faltered a little at the last second, and this is no different. “What if it was an elbow-sleeve sheath dress…out of chain mail?” YES. “What if it the epaulets were metal flowers?” YES. “And futuristic silver shoes?” YES. “And the skirt had really stiff metal flowers that draped oddly so the fluidity of the chain mail was totally ruined and it started to look like really stiff knitting with metallic cupcake liners on the bottom?” …huh.

It’s a very different kind of “No thanks” than, say, Laura Prepon, who looks like the costume departments of Reign and Children of Dune had an unholy child with a boob window, and she agreed to wear it because she lost a bet.

The thing abut Laura Carmichael is that her style is usually very good – maybe not groundbreaking, but rarely have I looked at a dress of hers and thought, “That shit right there is an Edith.” To honor the show’s farewell season, one assumes, she is breaking her decent streak and wearing this.

And Maisie Williams, who has literally cosplayed a Doris Day bathrobe/slippers outfit, and while there’s something kind of great about that, cosplay only works if everyone gets it. That said, it’s pretty sleek and the length is killer; she’s young, she’s having fun, she’ll be fine.

“They’ll HAVE to talk about me,” said Heidi Klum, frowning at the Project Runway ratings on her phone, pacing back and forth. “What can I do to make sure people are talking about me? There must be SOMETHING I can do.”

[Before we get to current fashion, I have an article at The Toast about Victorian rational dress and cycling, “I don’t think I’ll venture on dual garmenture”.]

Ah, the Emmys. The Emmys can mean a lot of things. An evening to honor the year’s most awardable TV shows based on a complicated rubric in which actual quality is often way down the list; a way for designers and stylists to begin the complicated mating dance that will eventually culminate in the Oscars – or, for a lucky few, the Met Costume Institute Gala. For us at home, it’s a chance to celebrate the increasingly murky TV/movie divide, and get early hints about what the Stylists’ Guild has in mind for us in the coming red carpet season, just like whatever the first vegetables are that bloom in a season of however long growing stuff takes, I know shockingly little about vegetables.

It was, by and large, a lovely and tasteful year on the red carpet for the Emmys, an awards ceremony in which almost everyone has realized the cost-benefit analysis of hiring whoever needs hiring to make you look effortlessly, fashionably employable. I appreciate that. I also appreciate everyone who showed up looking slightly ridiculous, because they serve a useful purpose, just like things in a vegetable patch that provide shade and whatever even though they’re probably poisonous.

Let’s run down this red carpet.

My pick for look of the night: Robin Wright showed up in a long-sleeve faux-tux backless pantsuit and no jewelry, and it looked damn good. (Yes, she has that weird hem red carpet pants so often do where it looks like your legs are just tubes instead of having feet and shoes, but ugh, look at this, it’s a pass.)

But honestly, it was a tough call this year. Deco looks poised to be a huge trend this red carpet season, so a lot of people looked pretty great.

LOOKIN’ GREAT DIVISION

Amanda Crew, whose work I had to look up because I’ve never watched an episode of Silicon Valley, in what is a serious contender for my look of the night. The t-shirt formal is a tricky but rewarding silhoutte, and the creeping Deco ivy of her embellishment is gorgeous without taking over the lines of of the dress. It’s like the most beautiful silver filigree wedding dish in the world, and I love it.

Taissa Farmiga. God help me, I think this dress is so fantastically, fascinatingly oddball that I love it impossibly much. It’s like a horror move broke out during a bridal shower, neck-first. What a delight.

Lizzy Caplan, whose dress was a gorgeous, chic black cutout dress, and a white train that honestly did nothing for the rest of the silhouette except to declare that she was prepared to walk all the way up to that podium with all that white trailing behind her and pick up a freaking Emmy if she got even a sliver of a chance to do it. I’m not sure if she ever really thought she had a chance, but I like to think this operated as a pysch-out on her way across the red carpet. There will be another season of Masters of Sex, and oh, Lizzy Caplan will be ready.

Melissa McCarthy, who I always love when she goes slightly starker on the red carpet, and whose dress manages to carry several textures in harmony.

Kate McKinnon, whose dress I am way into even if I am not 100% certain of the logistics of the lining in the vest.

Allison Tolman, in a lovely ball gown in a delightful color for her, whose stylists have made me realize the evergreen problems of a one-shoulder dress with long hair if you want to leave some of it down. Does it meet the shoulder of your dress, creating an unbroken line that, if someone played around with the settings on her graphics program late at night when she should have been asleep, looks like her hair has melted onto her dress into one Godiva mass? One would think not, but to move it to the opposite shoulder ruins the empty-shoulder effect you want from a one-shoulder gown in the first place! And yet why half-down hair instead of a soft updo that would give you the best of both shoulders? I need a decision tree on this, there is a lot going on.

Mayim Bialik, going Liz the First But With Attached Pockets in my favorite shade of purple (that shade of purple is Essentially Blue), and a ferns-and-daises lace that’s kind of better the more of it there is, which is not something you can say about all laces.

Amy Poehler, to whom the phrase “What if it was Deco but super casual, with like, sexy beach hair?” was palpably uttered.

Julianna Marguiles, who clearly knew on her way in that she was walking away with the statue.

Michelle Dockery. I love the shape and drape of this dress so much, and the pink and the blue are both stunning. (The green’s a harder sell, but the look still works.)

Christine Baranski, in my favorite cape.

Kim Dickens, who approaches everything with the all-business mein you secretly hope for from Kim Dickens, is wearing this dress like it’s the most utilitarian possible dress for reasons that aren’t your business, and there’s a bangle belt around her waist and a clutch in her hand and she’s supposed to be showing them both off so here they are, shiny, doing just what they’re shined here to do.

A lot of the women on the carpet belonged to a single show that the Emmys quietly ignored!

LITERALLY JUST PEOPLE FROM ORANGE IS THE NEW BLACK DIVISION

Laverne Cox, in an honest-to-god Wonder Woman formal dress. (I did not think I would have to qualify this, but I have to: of all the drape-capes that appeared on the red carpet last night, it’s my second favorite.)

Uzo Aduba, looking fantastic, though if we are being honest I could do without the chiffon ruffly bit on the mermaid tail. Still, it’s an amazing look. Also a good reference for when someone says “The bangle bracelet makes the outfit really sing” and you think “How can a bracelet possibly do that much work?” And yet, here we are.

Kate Mulgrew, whose subdued dress and amazingly careless sheer sleeves look straight-up like she’s here for a Tony, somehow. (Not a bad thing.)

Samira Wiley, in the Lemon Curd version of the Original Barbie Dress we will be seeing a lot this evening, and which will never be my favorite silhouette, but it’s a stunning color on her even if the seams look like points of articulation on a formal-event action figure.

Danielle Brooks, lover of geometric lace, wearer of a skirt whose slit was one design element too many.

Taylor Schilling, whose dress was a nicely Deco beige business until she started talking about how her clutch only had a phone in it because there was a team of people assigned to carry the stuff she actually had to use later, with the unspoken subtext that it both amused and quietly frightened her, so she’s still wearing a nicely Deco beige business, but she’s well, well aware.

Laura Prepon, in a gorgeous color, and a silhouette that thanks to Project Runway the nation already knows as “overworked.”

Natasha Lyonne, in a dress that felt less like its own dress than a Kate Mulgrew Practice Dress, somehow, and that’s just fine.

Not to be outdone, Game of Thrones sent every woman it could find who had the time, either from hiatus or from being killed already.

GAME OF THRONES DIVISION

Lena Headey always dresses like the head of a vaguely post-apocalyptic punk enclave who has to dress well because the punk enclave demands it but who has clearly barely ground out her cigarette butt on the hand of a willing underling before the picture was taken. I adore it.

Sibel Kekilli, looking elegant and lovely, and reminding us that the bangle belt is happening all around us.

Rose Leslie, who is being amazing in Utopia and I hope we can all start officially talking about it soon, in a way I don’t really feel like saying much about this dress, except that the very-close colorblocking combined with her hair looks slightly like a really fancy drowned ghost, and I’m into it.

Natalie Dormer, in a very interesting dress whose lines and colorblocking are interesting even if things seme to get a little murky past the knees, literally cannot stop making this face. I have four pictures of her from different points on the carpet both posed and candid, and she is either making this face or caught in the desperate effort to make this face as quickly as possible before the shutter goes off. From an objective standpoint I suppose we can all admire that level of commitment to a shtick, and you might as well, since she’s never stopping.

In terms of trends in color, the red carpet saw more white than the Emmy winners themselves (TIMELY)!

OPTIC WHITE DIVISION

Sofia Vergara, Eyebrow-Raising Platform Spinnee, is almost always in a bombshell dress. Less often is she wearing the gown of Arachne Venomina, Queen of the Space Spiders, and suddenly that seems a shame, because why wouldn’t you?

Angela Bassett, who looks stunning even (especially?) if that’s gold braid on her cuffs.

Anna Chlumsky, in another great ’30s throwback, and the facial expression of someone who’s just realized she dressed to match the Emmys photo wall and there’s nothing she can do about it now.

Michelle Monaghan, who went Full Bacall for this red carpet and then added the world’s shiniest spike heels, which are both so fabulous and so uncomfortable I’m afraid to look right at them.

Lucy Liu, whose dress is almost amazing except right in the bodice region, where things begin to look like she decided to do a quick plaster cast of herself so it could dry in the sun.

Retta, wearing a perfect accent sash and an overskirt that looks like sheer curtains from the honeymoon suite, which, if you must, is the very nicest place from which to snag your sheer curtains.

But it wasn’t the only standout color on the carpet!

LADY IN RED SMOOTH JAZZ DIVISION

Julia Louis-Dreyfus, whose kiss bit with Bryan Cranston was funnier than the entire season of Modern Family that won the award last night, has made a red-carpet habit of wearing perfectly nice dresses that pretend to nothing else – usually not overly fussy, overly shiny, overly anything. It’s a good game plan when you’re in it for the long haul. I love the little details on this that make it interesting; the necklace and pleated top look perfect together, and do what my grandmother told me and must have also told Julia every dress should do, and draw attention to your lovely face.

Octavia Spencer, who is wearing a perfectly lovely dress with most of another perfectly lovely dress draped on top of it for no particular reason, but who cuts so fine a figure that I’ll just assume the beads fell off the bottom dress in the cab and woodland creatures descended with the chiffon business to help out.

Christin Hendricks, whose dress has some outstanding embroidery, whose ears have some outstanding earrings, and whose silhouette suffers from Red Carpet Action Figture Articulation right above the knee.

January Jones, who is so done she’s delivering this dress-wearing performance from space, in a dress that benefits enormously from a high-low hemline lined in black to frame a pair of questionable witch shoes, and which, in a year of Deco influence, does not benefit at all from looking like it’s made out of Deco couch fabric.

Claire Danes; once I would have tried to like this dress and its busy necklace and its oddly loose studded evening belt, but it’s just never going to work, just like Claire Danes for me.

Mindy Kaling, another victim of Red Carpet Action Figure Articulation Effect.

I AM REALLY NOT LOOKING FORWARD TO YOUR NEW SHOWS DIVISION

Small, but necessary.

Debra Messing, who will not be wearing this dress for long once she starts playing a woman whose life involves being a cop who is also attempting to raise children, SIMULTANEOUSLY.

And Kate Walsh, sunniest mermaid of them all, who will be playing a woman who is also attempting to be a judge, SIMULTANEOUSLY.

Truly, it’s a golden age.

And speaking of golden, every year a few people decide they’re going to dress in something that’s a pile of nonsense just to give people like me something to talk about, and I appreciate it so, so much.

THANK YOU FOR BEIN’ A FRIEND DIVISON

Kiernan Shipka. The the thing is, this dress looks amazing…from one angle. At this angle it looks like she’s cosplaying the Fortress of Solitude with a single belt that’s already fallen off in back so she’s pinned her arms to her sides to try to keep it on until judging..

Sarah Paulson, bravely soldiering on through a seasonal attack by a swarm of laser pointers.

Viola Davis. I love the color, but that bodice is literally Golden Girls material, so this dress could not go anywhere else.

Color amazing. Neckline, perfect. The rest? Remember the Borrowers, where they would make dresses out of hair bows and everything and the scale was always way off because they were tiny people and the velvet hair bows of the world were so super big? Yeah. Anyway, here’s Allison Janney.

Kate Mara. I’ve begun to find it comforting that wherever there’s a red carpet, Kate Mara will show up there in a dress that inevitably looks like it perished of acidic sadness on its way onto her body.

Kaley Kuoco, who honestly just has to be kidding me.

Look at Lena Dunham’s face, though. She knows. She knows. This Fauntleroy haircut and melting-pipe-cleaner ombre? It’s on purpose. She will MAKE you look.

Julia Roberts, whose dress has contracted the kind of maritime buildup that usually only boats get.

Anna Gunn in what is, for reasons only she can know, an exact replica of one someone wore to Homecoming my freshmen year of high school, when everyone involved was fourteen years old, and even then it seemed a little twee.

Katherine Heigl, the fanciest ambassador the 1701-D has ever hosted.

Kerry Washington, wearing a Magic Eye dress that’s trimmed so she looks like the glitter outline of a 2D paper doll.

Julie Bowen, wearing a Magic Eye dress that’s the embodiment of how everyone feels about the show she’s on.

And Betsy Brandt. Sure, the show might have been almost impossibly bleak in its final season, but Brandt wanted to make sure we could all end on a laugh, and I respect that. She didn’t wear this dress for herself, okay? She wore this dress for all of us.