The London premiere of the Sex and the City film wasn't eagerly awaited only for the film itself, but also because many an audience member couldn't wait to see what »the girls« - celebrated, especially Sarah Jessica Parker, as trend setters, »fashion »icons« and what not - would be wearing to the premiere.
Sarah Jessica Parker chose an almost-perfect outfit. The pistacchio/chartreuse colour really brought out her natural colouring and it was definitely not »boring«. Its best feature was probably the cut of the dress: »girly« but not overly frilly and silly. And the length was almost perfect: short enough to be »girly sexy«, but long enough to disguise - by the shadow of its hemline – the slightly unsightly vacuum between SJP's knees. (I can hear you! Get your mind out of the gutter...! :)
The main conversation piece was, of course, SJP's hat.
Personally, I loved the arrangement of the hat itself.
What I didn't like at all was its position – upright – as well as the size and position of the bonnet on which the upper part was affixed.
Furthermore, the panache being so huge and stiffly upright, it made SJP look tiny. All in all, her face looked remarkably like a honey bee's one.
(I love bees, and I love SJP – but she is no bee and she shouldn't look like one.)
Had the hat been designed in such a fashion that the ikebana on the top were slightly tilted or just placed lower, so that it could rise from behind her head – instead of looking like an oasis clamoring to the heavens for water, complete with the aerial of a second-hand satellite dish brought in by a caravan of Beduins, or something – it would have lent SJP's lovely angular face a touch of lush, sensuous extravagance; her face would have been softened and enhanced by it, as if emerging from a cascade of lush greenery.
Kristin Davis opted for a demurely breezy dress which covered up her chest but revealed her legs and arms, and caught the eye with its strong block red colour: a »maiden sexy« combination which was very much »in (Charlotte's) character«. My only real complaint about her dress is the frilly lower part of the dress. It seems unnecessary: it detracts from the clean outlines of the dress – and of Kristin's body. (OR the dress should have been white; then it might have worked.)
I can only assume Kristin chose the flesh-coloured shoes for their traditional function: beige or flesh coloured shoes visually lengthen the legs, thus making them more slender in appearance. And any other colour, including red, would have made Kristin's legs look stocky, even stumpy. (I am not being unkind: I am praising Kristin's flair and fashion wisdom.) But it must be said that a pair of high-heeled red sandals - no ankle straps - would have performed pretty much the same function.
To see why, you only need to look at Kim Cattrall's legs on that particular evening.
Her outfit – a Westwood – was the »quirkiest« of the lot: slightly daring in its cut but not too excentric.
The problem with that dress on Kim was its shape and length. It made her statuesque body look HUGE (that's not a euphemism for »fat«, I mean just huge), as if it were a few sizes too small for her. And of course, there's the length: such a brilliant colour and a relatively high hem are going to make the legs stand out visually – so you really have to have good legs to pull it off. And Kim's calves are simply too massive to look good in it.
(Just to be clear: there is nothing »wrong« with her legs or with any part of her body – it's just that the dress did nothing – certainly nothing flattering – to them.) And black (i.e. optically shortening) sandals WITH an ankle strap certainly didn't help. Had she chosen an inconspicuous flesh tone – or lithe red sandals – with no ankle strap, the looks of her legs would have been considerably less impacted by the shape of the dress.
Her sparkling black dress has been oddly under-commented on. And I bet I know the reason: when cheaper-by-the-dozen (i.e. the most read) newspapers and magazine's fashion critics can't say something bad, they'd rather say nothing at all...
The fact is that Cynthia apparently struck everyone into shocked silence with the looks of her breasts. They were simply – or almost – perfect for that most revealing of gowns.
I remember a girly kvetching about »seeing underbreast« somewhere... I am assuming she meant the natural shadow of a natural (still firm) breast when subject to the natural law of gravity.
And she is, what, forty-two...?
Has the woman no shame?
How dare she parade perfectly good breasts at THAT age?!
Good for you, Cynthia!
I hope you are feeling as good about yourself as you should.
So... all in all, there were surprisingly few fashion faux-pas.
Now let's wait and see how "the girls" look on the next grand opening night.
C. U. N. Wednesday... in Paris.