*** Caution, some swearing in this one. Sorry Maman 
***
It’s a week later, it’s still on everyone’s mind so let’s just take a moment to talk about the Golden Globes.
What the fuck was that? (We mean the dresses, people. Please, we could give a shit about the rest). Is it just us or did most of the get ups remind you of Peaches and Cream Barbie? Seriously, just cut-and-paste Jessica Chastain’s top half on Piper Perabo’s bottom and suddenly it’s 1985. The puffy, a-line skirts, the heavy make-up, even the colours of the dresses took us back to the days when we’d get into physical altercations with friends over who had the “prettier Barbie.”
And if they weren’t all puffy and out of proportion (for shame, Frida Pinto!) they looked like they’d just wiggled their way out of the depths of the Pacific, or maybe stepped off the top of a wedding cake. We’re not sure who decided that the whole mermaid-meets-flamenco look was back (maybe Brad G.?), but it sort of made us want to slit our wrists.
All of this to say, thank effing god for Kristen Wiig (and Claire Danes, Tilda Swinton and yeah, even Rooney Mara) but mainly for Wiig.
She could have so easily fallen into a “funny girl goes to Hollywood” trap and ended up looking like a giant cupcake, but instead she just sort of floated in on her cloud of awesomeness, all sleek and modern, looking like our idealized versions of ourselves.
(Though, in all honesty we probably would’ve worn this).
