Last night, I live-tweeted the Emmys Red Carpet, because I've been doing it for years and it's a thing we do now. (I don't make the rules, Internet.)
Good to see that the Emmys are finally diverse enough to include brunette white women AND blonde white women. #Emmys— Nina Bargiel (@slackmistress) September 22, 2013
"TINA FEY WORE RED LAST YEAR AND SHE WORE BLUE THIS YEAR AND I KNOW ALL MY COLORS WHERE'S MY JUICEBOX?" - Kelly Osbourne #Emmys— Nina Bargiel (@slackmistress) September 22, 2013
Welcome to the Hollywood Awards Show, where no matter your accomplishments, you're just a fabric-swaddled meatsack with jewelry! #Emmys— Nina Bargiel (@slackmistress) September 22, 2013
There's some comfort in the predictability of the Red Carpet: who made your dress, who loaned you your jewelry, this jewelry is worth 1.2 million dollars and yes, the unemployment rate is at 7.6% but they gave me a bodyguard so this jewelry is a job creator, etc.
Every time a white girl orders a pumpkin spice latte, Modern Family wins an Emmy. #Emmys— Nina Bargiel (@slackmistress) September 22, 2013
The Red Carpet is a fluffy piece of claptrap designed to let us live in a fantasyland and to give Ryan Seacrest an opportunity to practice sucking up to people so Joan Rivers can tear them apart the next day. (Again, Internet, I don't make the rules.)
To fit into these confections of fashion, already-skinny actresses have to do some organ rearranging. I don't understand why they can't size up a size 00 to a size 0 to accomodate these clearly corpulent beauties, but BEAUTY IS PAIN or somesuch which is why I spent the Emmys on my sofa trying not to get Popchips crumbs on my laptop.
But last night's Red Carpet coverage highlighted something that I don't think I had noticed before: women were being celebrated for not eating.
As actresses ascended the staircase to talk to Sir Ryan Seacrest (eventually our socialist country will devovlve into a monarchy where we'll all have health insurance but Ryan Seacrest will be knighted, I'm pretty sure I read that on Drudge) a new question was added to the lineup: what did you do to fit into the dress? Was the dress tight? Have you had a carb? TELL ME ABOUT THE CONTENTS OF YOUR DIGESTIVE TRACT, JULIE BOWEN.
It wasn't a condemnation, but a celebration. A pat on the back. A high-five after the home run of voluntary starvation. I HAVEN'T EATEN FOR DAYS DON'T I LOOK PRETTY?
Maybe it's a matter of timing: last week, the House voted to cut 40 billion dollars from SNAP, the Federal Food Stamp Program. One in six Americans faces food insecurity. Many of those are children, the elderly, the disabled, or veterans.
And now, millionaires dripping with jewels (job creators!) on my TV screen are being lauded for their ability not to stuff a muffin in their mouth.
I know I'm part of the Hollywood system (I was even nominated for an Emmy for writing on Lizzie McGuire.) I like the Red Carpet. I love the Red Carpet. It's Hollywood Prom.
But let's celebrate them for winning the DNA Olympics, for being good-looking and talented or just damned lucky, and stop fawning over their ability to voluntarily starve.
Aliens seeing red carpet footage years from now will think awards shows are about starving people forced to discuss fashion for food. #Emmys— Nina Bargiel (@slackmistress) September 22, 2013