It’s that time again. As Moira Rose would eagerly retort to the question of what her favourite season is, “Awards” is the singular reply. I just love the return of awarding the elite in an industry that treats people like auction-worthy objects in outfits they didn’t have to pay for all while winning trophies for playing pretend. The sweet, sweet smell of synthetic realism.

I love the VMAs. They are always good for a moment, a laugh, or a jaw drop. When I saw the promotions leading up to the event, I was at first stoked. Then I quickly remembered of course the show will be different. Everything seems a bit different in the pandemic

The thing I love about Cannes Film Festival – besides the movies – is the extra AF fashion. The stars go bigger here that the Golden Globes and Academy Awards combined. Must be something in that salt and sun filled French Riviera air. The fashion is more, more, more.

Monday night is a night I look forward to all year: the Metropolitan Museums Annual Fundraising Gala for the launch of the rotating annual costume exhibition. In other words: the Met Gala. This year was Camp.

Every year the Recording Academy hosts the biggest party of the American music industry: the Grammys. The industry congregates to the city of lights to celebrate the best of the year. Well, some of the best. 

How is it that one designer’s name continues to come up when we hear about red carpet size-inclusive fashion? Thank Beyoncé that we have Christian Siriano because he is doing the bare minimum – making clothes for all sizes of glorious women – and somehow that’s the most.

If you haven’t seen Crazy Rich Asians what are you waiting for? The first book in the series – where the movie spends its time – came out in 2013. The third and final book of the series came out nearly two years ago. I don’t want to hear that, “I want to read the book first,” nonsense. You’ve had plenty of time, girl.

The first Monday in May may have come and went but it did not disappoint. I’m not Catholic but thank a god for the richness of the theme: Heavenly Bodies: Fashion and the Catholic Imagination. I was yelling at the pictures and videos on my phone Monday night in a way that perhaps only a sports fan would on the most titillating final game of the season. It was glorious.

Oh what a whirlwind the Hollywood award season has been. The final flourish in the awards show calendar, as always, are the Academy Awards. This special night is reserved for the voter-deemed best of the year. Each nominee is wriggling in his/ her/their seats hoping to take home that golden Oscar. Lucky for us, fashion friends, a big part of the evening is what the stars rock on the red carpet.

My mind has been all over the place recently. Things just seem to keep escalating, building a shit storm atop the shit storm. Dwelling in the chaos and cruelty is not a friend of mine. Rather, I’m more of the move-forward-and-eventually-you’ll-feel-more-positive kind.

Nearly everyday when I’m doing my usual Internet fashion scans I see headlines along the lines of, “Ahhhhhhh, the fashion industry is changing!” A look at the overhaul of fashion weeks, leadership changes, and the speed of collections all point as supporting proof to this evolution. Some of it is well overdue and some feels too drastic. What’s what depends on who you are and what you believe.

I have been delighting in the Cannes red carpet fashion the past week. There’s nothing like coastal France to bring out the extra in everyone. Tonnes of the film industry players – actors, directors, producers, financiers, and model philanthropists – are all swaggering their way down that glorious-right-near-the-water carpet. With all the nasty stuff going on, it’s especially nice to escape for a wee bit.