When the red carpet becomes a yellow stripe

When the red carpet becomes a yellow stripe
: I had lunch today with a writer at Women’s Wear Daily and we compared notes on all the celebrity media properties that are in deep doo-doo now that some twit at the Academy Awards decided to cancel the Oscar red-carpet arrivals (because, why, that’s the only frivolous part of the evening?… because we shouldn’t be subjected to Melissa Rivers in time of war?… because they thought Army Archerd was in Qatar?… help me understand this, somebody).

Anyway, E was planning something like 12 hours of pre-Oscar coverage. Yikes. InStyle, People, Us, and all the celeb magazines are hosed. And they’re not the only ones who are bound to be unhappy. Stars are going to be pissed at the spotlight they lose. Ditto movie companies. Ditto producers. Ditto flacks. Ditto dress designers. This has real impact on the American economy, damnit. This was downright unAmerican!

3 responses to “When the red carpet becomes a yellow stripe”

  1. Joe Avatar

    I’m _still_ fuming, Jeff. Dammit, I LIKE watching to see who might be wearing the most preposterous ensemble of this year’s do.

  2. greg.org Avatar

    twit is RIGHT. Am I the only one who’s 1) perplexed at the amount of publicity Gil Cates, the Oscar show producer is grabbing for himself, and 2) what a wet blanket prick he sounds like?
    It started with sanctimonious warnings to nominees not to thank more than 5 people, or they’d get the hook/orchestra.
    Then, it’s a pre-emptive strike/blacklist of celebs, including some nominees, who he fears may “bore the audience” with political statements.
    Then it’s the ads, the scheduling, and finally, the red carpet thing, after a lot of public wailing about a side door entrance, just in case.
    Honestly, I NEVER thought I’d be pining for Debbie Allen, much less the Riverses. War IS hell.

  3. paul Avatar

    damn. my prayers have been answered. if being happy about that the nation can forego the pettiness that IS the red carpet constitutes being unAmerican … then … i’m moving to france, painting a curly moustache on my face, taking up smoking and surrending, and adjusting my stereotypical beret.
    oui, oui.