Everyone Who's Anyone Was At The ABT Gala… Looking Odd

Is it just me, or did a lot of the A-listers at the 69th Annual American Ballet Theatre Spring Gala, at the Metropolitan Opera House, look kind of…odd? (And yup, that’s a Gerard Jones shout-out.)

Disclaimer: I’m writing this in the middle of the night, swigging straight buttermilk, and realize I’ve been droning the Affair to Remember theme under my breath for the past 45 minutes, so. Even more salt than usual, if you don’t mind. Also: yes, Michelle Obama was there, and according to the unsatisfying lectern partials, looking very lovely indeed in what’s rumored to be an Alaia dress and Thakoon jacket, but First Ladies have a pesky habit of not walking pap-swarmed red carpets! I don’t know why either.

The Good:

What’s the cultural, historiographic significance of the Recession/Barbie-gown confluence? Why can Iman wear this and look amazing? And why does she give such bizarre interviews, with such impunity?

Coco Rocha’s saloon gal? Milkmaid? is crazy, kooky, over the top AND I LOVE IT!!! (I was being Mary Murphy.)

Rachel Roy enjoys the trousers. Wouldn’t you feel a little bit like Oliver when he’s working for the undertaker and the grand marshal or whatever of all those junior funerals, if everyone else was in these Barbie getups? But Rachel’s making the party come to her.

Kelly Ripa: sure.

Let’s get one thing straight, charmeuse frock: I like you but not in that way. You and your smug sueded surface that just purrs, ‘I rubbed against Dancy in the Town Car and I’ll DO IT AGAIN!’

Kim Raver takes one of the evening’s few textile risks. Cue inevitable upholstery comparisons, but such is life. Can I get a “fiddle-dee-dee?”

Sessilee Lopez looks stunning, elegant, and manages to make the coexistence of those two adjectives totally sensical.

Ivanka Trump has probably been doing ‘evening’ from the cradle, and as they say, practice makes perfect. No Miss USA references, if you please. Not what I meant at all!

The Bad:

Are Lindsay Price and Coco Rocha wearing basically the same dress? So why am I arbitrarily putting one in the Bad? Does this have something to do with Lipstick Jungle? And let’s say if justice is blind – is that a good thing when we’re judging clothes?

On the one hand: Lynda Carter looks happy, beautiful, is Wonder Woman. On the other: print of dress reminiscent of those black and white pix of smooching kids, occasionally holding a single, Schindler’s List-style pink rose.

Have never yet managed to work in the lyrics to “Just Walk Away, Renee” while discussing Zellweger. Maybe she, um, should have, um, done that when they accidentally brought her Nancy Reagan’s wardrobe? Even though it was a really pretty color? We try.

So on his Twitter, Karl Lagerfeld said something to the effect of, expensive clothes should never look expensive. So guessing he’ll be digging on Hilary Rhoda! Then he said, “My dream? Transparent fur.” [Note: I know you all love this. And does my intense aversion have something to do with a certain Cache frock, purchased by mom at The Westchester, that a certain ed wore to a certain disastrous junior prom? Some would say yes.]

We get it: when some hear ‘gala’ they hightail it over to ‘stiff and uncomfy’ land. (This is known to some of us as Loehmann’s Back Room.) But why would Mariska Hargitay, the daughter after all of Jayne Mansfield, want to go to there?

And speaking of Mansfield-era glam, Eva La Rue is kind of channeling that late lamented lady’s Will Success Spoil Rock Hunter look, where she basically wears a hyper-Marilyn professionally sexy cocktail costume the entire time. Also: remember when moms were very into cut-velvet scarves? That was nice.

The texture of Amy Fine Collins’ gown reminds me of a ‘haunted house’ song by The Knife. Specifically, “Silent Shout.” Intricate, playing within an established framework, and kind of creepy.

It’s almost like Ashley McDermott got a totally different dress code on her invite. Hers said “Prejean” and nothing else, which I admit is cryptic.

The Wintour:

Say what one will about the ‘Nuke, but she’s managed to establish a distinctive iconography that, Vreeland-style, somehow transcends any definition but “Anna Wintour.” (The ram’s horn Chanel was apparently an aberration. Back to the uniform.)

What Say You?

Veronica Webb’s June bride special is the very definition of ‘What Say You!’ Well?

Whatever we think of Suzanne Vega’s stripes (save that she needs to be proceeded by a herald with some kind of warning to epileptics) this picture is very awesome. And what do we think? Or, you know, you?

[Images via Getty]

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