Awards shows are always fair game when it comes to fussing over the frocks and then ridiculing accordingly. But there is one particular awards show that is better than the rest, for this purpose alone. Of course I am talking about The British Soap Awards. The very nature of soap screams tack, cheese and more cheese. It also seems that every year, more often than not, the characters wardrobes are creeping on the backs of the real life actresses. I’m talking about the Kat Slater and Mercedes McQueen’s of the world. Yes, there will be fake hair and yes, there will be fake tan and tits. But, blah, we all know that. Its about what comes with it, what clashing, eye-gauging, satin engulfed, static-shock inducing mess will the wonderful Hollyoaks hotties be adorning on the beloved red carpet? This year, naturally, the soap stars did not disappoint. I’m not sure whether it is the credit crunch reaching new heights (or lows?) but poor forlorn Louie Batley could only afford a bin bag. But don’t worry; it looks like the good kind. With drawstrings.
The sheen, the gathering , the draping, oh my ! I swear I can almost see an empty crisp packet peeping out of one of the layers. Or maybe last nights dinner? Dog's dinner more like.
Hollie-Jay Bowes probably gets the runner up prize for successfully clashing the look of a My Chemical Romance fan with someone that saw a corset (it makes me look slim) and netting (I will feel like a princess/rock star/emo ballet dancer) and just ran with the idea... all the way to a western saloon bar and back.
I'm pretty sure Avril Lavigne wore this to her prom. End of.