Since I feel this would rapidly become apparent over the course of this article, I think it best to just come right out and say it: discussing dresses and their merits is not my forté. I am not on home-turf attempting to adjudge what makes one dress more desirable and aesthetically valid than another. However, like some 19th century European explorer bedecked in an safari hat, thwacking a machete through dense bushland in search of some native people to absolutely do one over on, or an out-of-their-depth male weighing in on issues they are neither informed on, nor truly interested in, but still adamant about voicing their opinions on, I feel it best it best to plough on and hope that history is not too damning.
The Oscars took place last night, and given that this large-scale, gaudy affair is explicitly designed to put 4/5 of the world's most feted celebrities in an absolutely piss-poor mood for the evening, there are naturally large-scale drinking affairs that follow the ceremony to allow the losers' sorrows to be assuaged by alcohol. Pre-eminent among these post-Oscars parties is perhaps the Vanity Fair after party. How is its pre-eminence manifest? Well in the only universally known and accepted metric in adjudging the illustriousness of an event - by counting the number of attendant Jenners. The Vanity Fair Oscars after-party boasted two Jenners, Kendall and Bruce, thus cementing its pre-emminence.
Now, with the pre-amble over, it is time for us to plunge into the essence of this article, to get amongst its very raison d'etre: the astoundingly risqué dress that Kendall Jenner was wearing.
Kendall Jenner Vanity Fair Oscars Party 2019 pic.twitter.com/6pQHxfqwHz
— DAILY CELEBZ (@beautifulcelebz) February 25, 2019
This dress, is the very definition of bravery, of courage. To wear something, that is ostensibly for use in public, which reveals that much pelvis is astounding. It demands us to reassess our relationship with the very idea of a dress. Can something with that high a cut, with a cut that severe, still reasonably fall under the remit of 'a dress'. It stretches the term to near breaking point.
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This is not to go all 'Piers Morgan' and try judge the dress, or Kendall Jenner, however. As someone who possesses more than their fair share of bodily shame and anxiety, derived from generations of refined Catholic guilt, this is a daring dress. Every deeply repressed fibre of my own shameful being would scream out in protest were I to even attempt to reveal that much pelvis in public. I can say with some certainty that the list of people who have seen similarly extensive swathes of my own pelvic region would be limited to: a modestly-sized list of previous lovers; several medical professionals who stressed that it was necessary, and whose credentials I comprehensively vetted, and, for a brief period while I was a young child, my parents - until I gained the ability to speak and was thus able to complain and bring about this unfortunate state of affairs.
We can only dream of possessing this kind of a willingness to embrace our own bodies so as to reveal such a staggeringly expansive section of our own pelvii. Kendall Jenner, we salute thee.
