February 12, 2008
Grammy Awards Fug AND Fab Carpet: Natasha Bedingfield
I feel like taking a tour through Natasha Bedingfield's closet would be a really interesting way to spend an afternoon. She veers from cute dresses to crazy '80s wear as fast as most people blink, plus I am always fascinated to see what kind of stuff people keep in there, buried under shoe boxes or stacks of sweaters -- or, in my case, the paint-splattered jeans and shirts I keep around for the inevitable day when I finally say, "No, seriously, THIS TIME I really AM going to paint the bathroom."
As for Natasha, I like to think that outside her closet hangs a giant blindfold she ties on before picking her clothes for the day. It helps explain the roller-coaster between this:
And what she changed into after the Grammys ended:
That purple dress is so lovely; the post-party ensemble, something I feel like I'd see if I ever re-watched the scenes of Crocodile Dundee where Paul Hogan goes to New York and everyone at the Incredibly Hip Manhattan Parties is wearing the most insane, dated stuff -- like, speaking totally theoretically of course (and absolutely NOT from having seen that movie again two months ago when I discovered it on cable and couldn't turn it off), a stretchy cropped top and pants with the entire alphabet on them over and over again. Admittedly, compared to something an aerobics instructor on Sesame Street might wear, Natasha's throwback outfit isn't so bad. And her hair and makeup are cute. But what's with her trying to make me think it's 1988 again?
As if to affirm my instinct, Natasha whipped out this androgynous look at a pre-party.
I kind of wanted to like this, actually -- there's at least something defined about it. I get what she was trying. But for the lady-tux thing to work, I think the pants need to be skinnier, and the shoes need to be... not those same brown ones, which are very daytimey. The eye makeup is a bit aggressive and she's got so much lube on her chest, she's practically Keith Urban. Indeed, she's halfway between a department store mannequin and a waxwork of Annie Lennox. The overall effect is not one of pleasure as much as it is a reminder that, instead of buying Natasha's new album, there's still a lot of Eurythmics in my iTunes shopping cart that I should scoop up instead. No matter how nice Natasha might be personally, it's never a good idea if your outfit only makes people think wistfully of a someone else who is way cooler.