As self-proclaimed fashion police, Saucy is offering her opinion on what was worn to the Emmy Awards this year. She is leaving Betty White "off the table," for obvious reasons. Anyone who is ninety years old and can keep up with Jimmy Fallon and the cast of Glee in a musical number deserves a break.
Otherwise: if you were there, you are fair game. Let's start with one of the best:
Dear Lea Michele,
Bravo for finding the perfect dress. Loopy thinks it was the best look of the night. Not black, but a glistening shade of navy and perfectly cut for you, this Oscar de la Renta gown is a work of art. However did you manage to wear that many ruffles without looking like a bad set of drapery? Plus, it was accessorized just right and your nails were painted black and kept very short so it came off as youthful rather than matronly.
So nice, so very nice.
Dear Nina Dobrev,
You were Saucy's first visit to Wikipedia tonight. Yes, vampire shows are all the rage right now but Saucy hasn't fallen prey to the fad and so she has turned a blind eye to the entire genre. About your dress: you must have gotten it caught in the door of the limousine and half of the skirt ripped off. You were one of the first arrivals on the red carpet otherwise you wouldn't even be on this list. Saucy has no idea who you are.
Dear Claire Danes,
Although this Armani Prive gown is a little too reminiscent of the gown he designed for Anne Hathaway at the 2009 Oscars, it is still fabulous. Plus, your understated accessorizing is refreshing.
Dear Jane Lynch,
You could have worn a glittery track suit to the awards and Saucy would have lurrved it. This taffeta eggplant one shoulder gown by Ali Rahimi suits you perfectly. You have found a silhouette that works for your tall frame and used it repeatedly... and Saucy doesn't mind at all. Plus, you could be wearing a pair of sneakers under that skirt and it would still be fabulous.
Dear Maria Menudos,
You know that Saucy has a strict rule at these affairs about not overshadowing the talent. But maybe, just this once, she will bend the rule for you. This dress is more appropriate for a nominee or presenter but you really did look good in it.
Saucy is a little iffy on the matte tomato red lips, though. She would also like to ask this general question of everyone: did you forget your combs? While a natural look is preferred coiffure, this year some of the looks were downright shaggy.
Saucy also wants to point out that while you were doing interviews, the camera angle was a little unflattering around the rear of your gown and revealed through the cutaways were your ribs. Honestly. So if the camera adds ten pounds, Saucy wants you to eat a ham sandwich already. You are too thin. The Ally McBeal look is so over.
Dear Sophia Vergara,
You obviously do not need to be introduced to the concept of eating. You have a healthy body shape and your curves are enhanced in this Carolina Herrera yellow beaded gown. This might be one of those dresses that looks lovely in person but when Saucy first laid eyes upon it she feared that you'd spilled your Starbucks down the front of it. Upon closer inspection it was very nicely detailed, including a ruched net behind the bodice. You will be on several best-dressed lists tomorrow.
Oh, and you get a special award for the fact that your earrings and bangle matched your dress so perfectly but it did not look like a costume when you put them all together.
Dear Sarah Hyland,
You look age appropriate and youthful. Your coif was mussed enough to look fashionable but not so mussed that you looked as if you just rolled out of the shower (Saucy is talking to you, Kyra Sedgewick).
The beading on those rolled straps is downright inspired.
Dear Amy Pohler,
Congratulations on giving birth just three short weeks ago. You look amazing. This dress was a very good choice as one can only imagine what lurks beneath that waistline. However, the photos pre-show on the red carpet and the camera shots of you during the show revealed one simple fact: your breast pump did not fit into your clutch. Therefore, by nights end, the Dairy Queen did not fit into the strip mall. 'Nuf said.
Dear Amber Riley,
You look very nice in this Grecian-inspired gown. It fits and drapes in all the right places. You could give Gabourey Sidibe a few tips.
Dear Diana Agron,
One of the best! Pretty and flirty! Kind of fussy but not so fussy that it appeared Carolina Herrera grabbed the antimacassar from her sofa and draped it for you. People will slam its fussiness, but Saucy thinks it adorable.
Dear Naya Rivera,
This Simin gown is so-so. So horrible! The teal colour lends it a touch of a bridesmaids feel. It's the pouffy bottom that held you back but the brooch at the top of the slit is a nice detail. But please, can we address the hair?
Whoever did this to you should be immediately hog-tied and sent from Los Angeles in shame. Saucy wouldn't even let one of real-life Cheerios attempt to rock this look to the freshie dance. It is a nightmare. And, you need to comb it.
Dear Mariska Hargitay,
Vera Wang? Isn't this a wedding gown? With the flower in your hair and all, you look like you just renewed your vows at a Sandals resort in Jamaica. It's a nice dress, but it's the wrong event.
Dear Keri Russell,
It's about time that someone wore their own dress to an awards show. You bought this gown from a vintage store over ten years ago and have been waiting for the right time to wear it? And you are just pulling it out of the closet now? What on earth were you waiting for? This dress is the bomb.
For those of you over fifty, "the bomb" now means, "it's great," as in, "that movie was the bomb," not, "that movie bombed."
So, this vintage Jean-Louis Scherrer gown from the 70's is the bomb. So much so, Saucy's head exploded.
Dear Eva Longoria Parker,
Also a good interpretation of "bomb," as in, "bombshell" and that is good... and it wasn't the least bit whore-ish or sleazy but very "bombshell." The skirt of fabric roses was a delicious detail.
Dear Jayma Mays,
Burberry did you proud tonight. Dark blue, ruched, and lovely. Saucy may even forgive Burberry for being rude to her and Veto in the Vancouver store, it was that nice.
Saucy didn't even mind your somewhat unkempt hair as it was a nice departure from your usual tidy hairdo on Glee. You sort of channeled a more wholesome Raquel Welch look tonight.
Dear Cheryl Hines,
This was a fine gown but there was nothing memorable about it, not even the colour, therefore it will get lost in a sea of bests and worsts. So be it.
Dear Emily Blunt,
You are quite adorable and very on trend with that little hairpiece and the one-shoulder lavender gown. This will sound mean, but your teeth are the same shade as your skin and Saucy has noticed it before. It's distracting.
The dress... some might suggest you could shorten it and wear it again. It was that kind of dress.
Dear Elisabeth Moss,
You actually looked really, really nice tonight. You covered up the mouse ears and made a very good choice of gown. The draping was beautiful and when you were on stage at the end of the evening that bit on your shoulder looked almost like a fabric sculpture. Some may give the colour a thumbs-down, but not Saucy. You win this round.
Dear Brooke Burke,
This was an attempt to put the "bomb" in "bombshell" and it did not go over very well for Saucy at all. Too much skin, too much leg, too much you. Why are you here again?
Obviously you read an article from Seventeen magazine that told you the trends this season would be: tiers, ruffles, one-shoulder and the colour purple. Please do yourself two favours in the future - pick only two trends at a time, and subscribe to Vogue.
Dear Jessalyn Gilsig,
Saucy has another hard-and-fast rule about the red carpet and that is, stay away from red if you want to stand out from the carpet. Someday, Saucy will take out her magnifying glasses and examine this photograph to reveal what details, if any, this dress has.
Dear Jane Krakowski,
Go home. Take your voluminous Escada with you, thank you very much. Leave Tina Fey behind, Saucy will deal with her later.
Dear Jenna Fischer,
It's kind of red so it breaks Saucy's rule, but it's also sort of orange and not as bad as you usually choose, so good for you. Something had to give.
Dear Jenna Ushkowitz,
Again with the red. Do you see what Saucy means by all of this? When you wear red, it means you want to stand out, not blend in. However, the halter style top was a refreshing change for the evening.
Dear Tina Fey,
This must have been the first thing you grabbed when you reached into your all-black closet of formal wear. It is not good, it is not bad, it is not ugly. It is Oscar de la Renta. If the magazine articles reveal that the underlay of all that black beadwork is in fact mauve, then you win. If it turns out to be nude or white, you lose.
Someone needs to introduce you to Rachel Zoe.
And now, for the mother-daughter portion of the review:
Dear Susan Sarandon,
You and your daughter Eva look polished, poised and beautiful. It's all downhill from here for the mother-daughter portion of the review.
Ironically, as Zsa Zsa Gabor currently lay upon her deathbed, Loopy inquired as to the origin of her celebrity. The Fan replied, "she and her sisters were the Kardashians of their day."
Zsa Zsa herself often looked this glamorous. Saucy suspects that this generation's Zsa Zsa is also sporting false eyelashes.
Dear Glenn Close,
Saucy hopes you and your daughter weren't going for some sort of theme or matching looks. That whole idea would be wrong. Plus, notice how your offspring's arms do not have flappy chicken parts that enable her to fly should she fall from a tall building. Please invest in some sleeves. This gunmetal frock by Reuben Singer was ill-fitting and you should tug it up already with those flappy arms of yours.
Oh, and thank you for ditching the sunglasses you wore last year.
Dear Kathy Griffin,
Your life on the D-list sure gets you into some A-list shindigs. Plus, an A-list designer in Oscar de la Renta, but it falls a little flat with those mirrored bits on the bottom. It's just too disco for words, making it a B-list gown. Still no improvement from last year, so keep trying.
Dear Kelly Osbourne,
Where was your mother tonight? Surely she might have spared you.
You have lost so much weight and it seems like your style sort of got lost along with it. You took more fashion risks when you were heavy. This is a hodge-podge.
Dear Rose Byrne,
This Gucci dress is sort of like a statue... it is very sleek and fitted. The metallic detail is futuristic, but what is up with your hair? Did you run out of time after taking hours to figure out how to get your dress on?
Dear Giuliana Rancic,
First of all, Saucy had to Google you because you are part of the American coverage of the awards and she's never laid eyes upon you before. Apparently you have a Master's degree in journalism and you married Bill Rancic, the guy who won the first Celebrity Apprentice.
It is also apparent that you are a huge fan of Jersey Shore and ascribe to their strict code of gym, tan and laundry.
Dear Angela Kinsey,
Saucy owes you an apology. She almost called you Helen Mirren. This could be either that you bear a striking resemblance to the famed Oscar winner, or you need a face lift. It's nothing to be ashamed of. Saucy needs a face lift too, as she herself is at risk of resembling the latter-years Katherine Hepburn at any moment. Maybe we could get a 2-for-1 special.
Or, you could hold out and play Helen Mirren's sister someday. Or Saucy.
Dear Lauren Graham,
Saucy has a riddle for you. What is black and white and unflattering all over?
Dear Lara Spencer,
Saucy supposes that on your special Insider coverage of the Emmys tomorrow, fans will be subjected to endless stories about your gown and "how to get Lara's look for less." Please spare us.
Dear Kyra Sedgewick,
Do you even own a hair brush? This unkempt trend for the red carpet is disturbing. It makes you look three weeks overdue for a trim. Also, there is something known as hairspray, Saucy will send you some.
For some reason, that gown looks hot, heavy and uncomfortable. The word "uninspired" springs to mind.
There seem to be seven degrees of separation between you and a stylist.
Dear Mrs. Fallon,
It must not be an easy gig to be there as the wife of the host. The camera panned to you often during the ceremony, showcasing your penchant for tanning. You might want to lay off, lest you earn the nickname Snookie.
This dress by Marchesa was a bit of a catastrophe in the fit department. Like Glenn Close, it appeared to be a wardrobe malfunction waiting to happen. It was kind of girly and fussy and didn't suit your personality at all. Luckily, you changed into something more appropriate for your performance during the In Memoriam portion of the show.
Dear Julia Louis-Dreyfus,
What can Saucy say about this look that won't be said by every fashion critic out there? For starters, Saucy saw an article about the worst awards looks ever featuring the almost exact same dress, but worn by Sigourney Weaver. This does not bode well for you. The earrings were an unexpected choice, but again, the hair lacked polish.
Dear Christina Hendricks,
You are usually a hit, but this is a miss.
At some point, Zac Posen doodled up this horrid confection of mauve feathers and some strange corset contraption that enhanced your natural gifts to comical proportions. Saucy heard that Zac Posen is having financial woes. Could designs like this be why?
Dear January Jones,
The hair. Let's start with the hair. This is the same hair Saucy wears to Safeway. You can do better than this for the Emmy Awards.
Plus, how much gift wrap had to be sacrificed for this origami getup? Clearly, your red carpet choices are an attempt to be seen as different than the character you play on Mad Men. However, these bold runway pieces aren't working for you. You and Atelier Versace need to part company quicker than Betty dumped Don.
Dear Mindy Kaling,
Ugh. Have you ever heard the saying less is more? Saucy has no idea who the designer of this dress was, but she suspects it to be the runner up of a reality TV fashion show, Project No Way. Take the walk of shame home.
Dear Anna Paquin,
So you are a newlywed and that contractually requires you to appear on the red carpet completely and fully entangled in the arms of your betrothed.
Marital bliss. We get it. His douchebag sunglasses make him all the less appealing.
Eventually, all that canoodling took its toll on your bodice and beads were dropping off your dress like flies. Or was it just the stench of bad fashion?
Once you pulled away from your husband, your dress was revealed and it became clear that you were quite possibly using him as a human shield to protect you from embarrassment. This gown was an atrocity. Plus, as you demonstrated last year, you have a penchant for ridiculous footwear. Alexander McQueen is in Heaven, choking on his martini olives.
Dear Somebody Pratt,
Saucy knows not who you are but you forgot to finish getting dressed and your fifteen minutes should be up in about... one minute.
Dear Heidi Klum,
From the neck up, lovely!
But you also forgot the bottom half of your outfit. Plus, someone so fertile should not wear such a short skirt. Simply bending over to put on your shoe could render you impregnated for the sixth time. Consider yourself warned.
Saucy is writing directly to you because she is wondering, what gives? You asked Rita Wilson to be a style and fashion EXPERT on your show. Is this what you call a style expert? In that case, there is a caretaker at Loopy's school who has been cut to half time and needs work and has a penchant for cutting the sleeves off his uniform shirts and wearing his sweatpants inside out, would you like him to be a contributor as well? I will look into it and let you know.
Also, those shoes appear to have been decorated with the pop-tabs from aluminum soda cans, but green doesn't always mean right.
Dear Mary Hart,
Your whole look was a tear-inducing, retina-scorching mess. From a distance it appeared as though you were channeling Lady GaGa and Saucy half expected to see the tiny stuffed heads of Cookie Monster as you drew closer.
Saucy asks again this year: please retire gracefully. You're no Betty White.
Dear Lo Bosworth,
In an attempt to emulate the fashions of Mad Men, you appeared as though you might be there to check coats or hand out goodie bags. Saucy can only invoke the lyrics of the Barenaked Ladies when she says, but not a real green dress, that's cruel.
You, Mindy Kaling, Naya Rivera, Rose Byrne and Kyra Sedgewick all must share the same hairdresser at Fantastic Sams.
Dear Kate Gosselin,
Here you are again. Like a dirty penny, you keep showing up at these things. You stopped off at Sears and grabbed a marked down prom dress on the way, so good for you! It awkwardly draped just the right amount around your cleavage to make you look three times larger than you are!
Saucy will call this Kate-Plus-I-Hate this Dress.
Plus, that lazy eye combo you've got going on is further enhanced by the false eyelashes that are lifting from your lids. You're no Zsa Zsa Kardashian, you can only aspire.
Finally, maybe the worst dressed couple of the night was Ty Burrell and his wife, who we shall call "Petunia." Your thoughts, Dear Reader? Did Saucy hit or miss this year?
And a last word for the upcoming award season (January Jones, Anna Paquin... take note): it is time to stay away from design houses of which the designer is deceased. Chances are, if it has the name Alexander McQueen or Versace on it, they aren't around to answer for it and anyone could be behind the label.
And by anyone, Saucy means that caretaker at Loopy's school. Watch out.