The 2026 SAG Awards Worst Dressed!
Plus, some other dumb stuff I thought about this week.
Howdy!
I don’t know what’s going on this week, whether it’s the rain, the last gasps of February SAD, something planetary, or just my own TikTok-addled brain ping-ponging around my skull, but I’m having a serious procrastination problem. I just can’t seem to make myself sit down and get the words out on the page despite all of my best-laid plans. But, as always, my extreme avoidance of deadlines remarkably leads to me accomplishing many of the absolute worst things on my to-do list. Why, yes, of course I would rather deep clean the bathroom and scrub the baseboards with a toothbrush instead of turning in a single article, how did you know?
But much Mess awaits us! And so, I’ve finally dragged myself to my desk (sofa) and will do my best to relay to you the many disparate fashion thoughts that have traipsed through my imagination this week. But first, the fridge update you’ve all been patiently waiting for: it got replaced. It took a FULL calendar week for my landlord to actually agree to replace the previous machine that had been there since the 80s, but it has finally happened and I am once again partaking in perishable foodstuffs. The new fridge is also like 5% larger than the last one and it feels like we just got upgraded to the penthouse suite of Frigidaires.
My sister also came to visit this weekend at the height of freezer-gate 2k26 and as we both take our coffee with cream this meant that we quickly became regular fixtures at my local bodega. A fact that reconfirmed something I’ve always known to be true about myself, which is that I love a giant shitty cup of coffee. Gas stations, bodegas, hotel lobbies — these are the big gulps of mediocre brew I crave. Especially when it’s priced between free and $2, what more do you want of your java? Although, in my fridge-less desperation, I did discover the very dangerous fact that a cafe next to my apartment serves an absolute Dunkin’ bucket full of iced coffee for $10 a pop. So, I foresee myself becoming extremely in debt and extremely over-caffeinated all summer long off those bad boys.
Oh, also, my sister was here because she was taking a workshop on how to make Victorian hair art at Morbid Anatomy, a mourning art form I’ve discussed frequently in these pages. If that’s something you’d also be interested in learning how to do, she said she highly recommends it and came home with a creepy little bouquet of horse hair flowers. If you’ve ever wondered why I am the way I am…….there you go. Except my mom and sister are actually into way weirder stuff than I could ever dream of engaging with as I am a massive scaredy cat and they want to like figure out how to fake an autopsy scene using Elmer’s glue and mannequin parts. I wish that was hyperbole.
The only other thing I urgently need to share with you all is that I learned this week that it is an open secret in Hollywood that a famous actor has an AI girlfriend who he’s been toting along to various hot spots about town and reddit has now helped me identify who this man is. Believe it or not, it ISN’T Scott Disick. Although I do feel his time is coming. Regardless, THIS is the caliber of gossip the tabloids should be trafficking in and never are these days. This is the type of info that makes the little gears in my brain whir along smoothly, lubricated on sweet, sweet secrets.
I think we’ve all heard a little too much about Demna’s Gucci debut by now and my two cents are very much not needed on the subject. But I do just want to say that, whether you love it or hate it, Demna did exactly what he was hired to do. He designed a collection that’s going to sell like gangbusters to all the least interesting people on earth with more money than they know what to do with. He’s going to quadruple the brand’s annual revenue just as Kering intended. But I do miss Demna’s usual sly sense of humor about it all. The meta, knowing wink at how obvious and trite everything is that made so much of his work at Vetements and Balenciaga fun and funny. This had none of that, just the pure plagiaristic capitalism that always underlies his designs. But I was thrilled to see that he got my memo about clothing that makes it impossible for celebs to perform everyday tasks for themselves, as Demi Moore modeled at the brand’s afterparty in this stole that bound her arms to her sides to the point she could barely keep Pilaf aloft.
And while this Emily Ratajkowski ass selfie isn’t exactly art, I do think the concept of the sunburned-on Gucci-logo thong is. It’s infinitely more compelling than the real deal, or anything I saw on that runway for that matter. This hits closer to Demna’s usual tongue-in-cheek antics, doing a Tom Ford redux by underscoring the very absence of that man and his foundational brand iconography. It’s very Kim K’s Met Gala blackout curtain. Give me more of that!
Marty Supreme No More
It was also the Brit Awards this week, and I once again just have to quickly point out that Sombr has cracked the Timmy Chalamet formula and is, dare I say, doing it better. Sometimes it really is as simple as just putting on a skintight lace top and a shiny, little jacket. No need to overcomplicate things.
The Simple Life
Ok, and I know she only wore this as an homage to Rob Rausch, but this Lisa Rinna fit did make me realize we’re long overdue for some sort of high fashion take on the overall. This is not that reinvention, but the seed of inspiration has been planted. It’s time for a glam take on the dungaree onesie, especially considering the clip-on shoulder straps offer the perfect opportunity for a surprise breast reveal. I need to see a fully pearl-covered pair from Schiaparelli immediately. Gucci x Dickies when?
Tally-ho!
And the last thing I have to bring to your attention before we get into the meat and potatoes of today’s email is just that I find it very odd that I stumbled across not one, but two images of famous people atop rearing stallions in a singular week. Well, if you count Teen Mom’s Farrah Abraham as a famous person, I guess. Still! Most odd. I see the equine lobbyists are working in full force to capitalize on this year of the Fire Horse.
After the paywall, my every waking thought on the SAG Awards! Excuse me, ACTOR Awards!