Can I Give A Grammy to Valentino?
The Grammys, fashion’s annual crapshoot (Florence Welch, I’m looking at you. I hope this is the Harry Potter influence talking—NJ and I are fifteen chapters into The Sorcerer’s Stone—but your finned green dress conjured up Voldemort for me). Still, more diamonds than rough this year. I didn’t get the memo, but I celebrate the sartorially sweet and brave:
Alexa Chung marries charming smock with moonlight pumps in her trademark “oh I just threw this together” ease. Lovely, of course.
Beyonce makes trends seem less, well trendy. Color blocking, b&w, strong(er) shoulders, and jumpsuit—on Bey it’s never overdone or cliche, only chic.
Fun. Only a cruel universe would let these guys pull off cropped skinnies so much better than I can.
Taylor Swift, reminiscent of Blake Lively in one of my favorite Lanvin pieces, evokes three words: youthful, ethereal glamour.
Adele doesn’t tussle with the print (on a less confidant gal, the print would win). The nearly scalloped hem and floral heels might sound like a matronly pair, but on this new mum they are anything but.
Johhny Depp. He can wear whatever he wants. Did you hear him say, “sublime”? J and I both swooned.
