Despite the obvious impediments caused by lax dental hygiene standards and rife inbreeding, The British Peoples create some pleasantly inoffensive music when they can be arsed. It’s for that reason, and the chance to wear º¤ø,¸*¸,ø¤º sequins º¤ø,¸*¸,ø¤º, that each year card carrying members of the British Music Industry come together in musical (and later, sexual) congress to saunter along a red runner and award their respective efforts in a ceremonial fashion.
After they’re done doing that, then The BRIT Awards can start.
This year at the BRITs, Arctic Monkeys were acknowledged for their work being the best British Group and producing the British Album Of The Year. An absent Daft Punk won Best International Group, sending amateur hour strippers and Nile Rodgers in their place. David Bowie won Best British Male, and repeat David Bowie impersonator Kate Moss showed up to accept the award on his behalf. Democratically elected teen spokesperson Lorde also won Best International Female Solo Artist, and unofficially, Best Hair.
Bruno Mars scored Best International Lil’ Male, Ellie Goulding Best British Female and Bastille collected the BRIT for Best Breakthrough (of a barricade?).
One Direction also won ‘Global Success’, an entirely arbitrary honorific considering a lot – if not all – of these acts are objectively successful on a global scale.
Their schtick however…
Arctic Monkeys on the other hand. Well, nobody cocks a ‘brow or a sticks a quiff like Alex Turner.
London Grammar here will happily school you in the art of ethereal warbling. I would not, however, advise you to take any #hairspiration lessons from the poor man’s Harry Styles in the blue suit.
Cute Margaery Tyrell braids.
Send in the clowns.
The imminently-touring lads from Disclosure take time off from manning the Gringotts tellers to look chic in severe tuxedo looks alongside ‘White Noise’ collaborator Aluna Francis. They’re currently partying on a boat.
Rosie Huntington-Whiteley Statham looks an uncomfortably flawless mirage in sequinned zebra Saint Laurent. She accessorises with a vacant glaze and gams for days.
The New Classic, Iggy Azalea, defers to old mate and her red carpet staple in scarlet Elie Saab paired with a soft, single, middle finger wave.
Coupla old geezers.
Aluna Francis has been drinking watermelon in a waterfall skirt that saves this look from merely regulation sexy secretarial steez. She does look phresh though.
I like Ellie Goulding’s… go get ’em attitude? She’s wearing ill-advised Vivienne Westwood with pockets.
Jessie J in Julian McDonald, a lilac lip and matching mani :/ Girl knows she done fucked up.
The lip didn’t work. Get over it. I have. Onto the next look!
— JESSIE J (@JessieJ) February 20, 2014
Onto the next look, where serene Best Breakthrough nominee Laura Mvula barely conceals her discomfort in a Laura Vulva-grazing dust ruffle; kewl make-up and turquoise pumps tho.
Smokey-eyed sexual bombshell Rita Ora looks pretty amazing poured into this chartreuse Prada column, embellished with green rhinestones that crossed over on the back, replete with the softly-cascading coat of a thousand golden retriever puppies wrapped in white cotton sheets after a tranquil hot water spring bath.
Speaking of chartreuse and hot water, this is probably what Fergie was getting at with ‘G.L.A.M.O.R.O.U.S.’ before she repeatedly wet herself on stage.
The couple that rocks metallic tuxedos together also makes beautiful love angel music babies together.
Pharrell again continues to give zero fucks about your lame hat jokes.
Lily Allen looks a vampy delight, very on-brand, in a 1965 vintage Normal Norell sequinned column gown complete with subdued hair and make-up. It can’t be that hard out there, surely.
Katy Perry continues to wheel out that insufferable ditty ‘Dark Horse’ for awards ceremony performances, this time eschewing the culturally insensitive appropriation of 1692 Salem Witch Trials imagery for some second rate Egypto styling. Sorry, not sorry.
Ella looking hella stoked in labyrinthine lace and sequins.
Beyoncé looking hella Beyoncé in Vrettos Vrettakos Couture. She woke up like this, got dressed, and literally wore this on the private jet she took with Jay to The BRITs.
Nicole Scherzinger is held prisoner to the wearing of jackets off the shoulders trend, limiting her movements to the smallest gestures lest she shrug off her blazer and dang sex harness, and with it, all the Sisyphean weight of the world she alone must bear.
Sophie Ellis-Bextor murders in 1965 Pierre Cardin Haute Couture.
Not really, it’s pleasant enough; I just wanted to shoehorn a Dance Floor reference in there. You are welcome!
Daisy Lowe, mate, it’s almost Friday.
I wish they all could be California girls.
RED CARPET SIBLING FEUD. Which ‘Princess of Pop’ is best dressed out of:
A) Dannii Minogue, who opts for a textural, black, one-shoulder dress with asymmetrical lace inlay, thigh detailing and structural embellishment.
B) or Kylie Minogue, who also opts for a textural, black, one-shoulder dress with asymmetrical latex bows, thigh detailing and structural embellishments.
Answer: Neither.
C) The real Princess of Pop, face tattoos and artful pink eye, is Boy George. Knows it too.
Photo: Anthony Harvey, Andrew Cowie, Ian Gavan via Getty
