It was a predictably eventful evening in LA this past Sunday at the 96th Academy Awards, hosted at the Dolby Theater.
Among the stand-out moments were John Cena’s naked walk across the stage to present the award for Best Costume Design and Al Pacino’s decision to skip over the nominations for Best Film altogether, instead going straight to announcing the winner.
There were also plenty of talking points to be gleaned from the red carpet, not least relating to the plethora of eye-catching outfits on show. As per reports, actress Kelly Ripa and husband Mark Consuelos were among those to steal the show, with the former causing a particular stir on social media.
Celebrities dominating headlines for their choice of garment for any particular awards ceremony is nothing new.
Yet in the age of social media, where live photos from the red carpet can be shаrеd around the world at the click of a button, it’s become arguably more popular than ever to discuss and debate outfits in real time.
As such, it’s only natural to expect that an event of the magnitude of the Oscars, and those fortunate enough to be in attendance, is always going to be heavily scrutinized.
Among those who found their fashion choices dissected online this year was Kelly Ripa, who uploaded her outfit – a dazzling black, see-through gown – to Instagram along with the caption: “Mom and dad storming the red carpet.”
There, it was met with a wave of appreciation from her legion of fans.
“You both look amazing. BUT that dress is stunning ,” one person wrote.
“Beautiful gown. Beautiful couple,” another added.
“Kelly, your hair, the dress… you look gorgeous,” a third said.
Of course, it wasn’t all compliments. There were those who questioned Ripa’s decision to don the dress.
“I love you Kelly but not this dress,” one detractor wrote.
Another added: “Unlikе Mark not to have a perfectly tailored suit or tux on. His clothes are usually impeccable.“
A third wrote: “Kelly wear some bike shorts. You are lowering your self in the see through dress. You’re better than that!“
“She doesn’t even look likе the same person anymore ” a fourth opined.
I don’t know about you, but I think Kelly and Mark looked fantastic at the Oscars! Let us know your thoughts in the comments.
I Allowed a Homeless Woman to Stay in My Garage—One Day I Walked in Unannounced and Was Shocked by What I Saw
I tapped the steering wheel, trying to shake the weight on my chest, when I spotted a disheveled woman digging through a trash can. I slowed down, drawn in by her grim determination.
She looked fragile yet fierce, fighting for survival. Without thinking, I pulled over, rolled down my window, and asked, “Do you need help?”
Her response was sharp but tired: “You offering?”
“I just saw you there,” I admitted, stepping out. “It didn’t seem right.”
“What’s not right is life,” she scoffed, crossing her arms. “You don’t strike me as someone who knows much about that.”
“Maybe not,” I replied, then asked if she had a place to stay.
“No,” she said, and I felt compelled to offer my garage as a temporary home. To my surprise, she accepted, albeit reluctantly.
Over the next few days, we shared meals and conversations. Lexi’s sharp wit broke through my loneliness, but I could sense her hidden pain.
One afternoon, I barged into the garage and froze. There, sprawled across the floor, were grotesque paintings of me—chains, blood, a casket. Nausea hit me.
That night, I confronted her. “What are those paintings?”
Her face went pale. “I didn’t mean for you to see them. I was just… angry.”
“So you painted me as a monster?” I demanded.
She nodded, shame in her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
I struggled to forgive her. “I think it’s time for you to go.”
The next morning, I helped her pack and drove her to a shelter, giving her some money. Weeks passed, and I felt the loss of our connection.
Then, a package arrived—another painting. This one was serene, capturing a peace I hadn’t known. Inside was a note with Lexi’s name and number.
My heart raced as I called her. “I got your painting… it’s beautiful.”
“Thank you. I didn’t know if you’d like it,” she replied.
“You didn’t owe me anything,” I said, reflecting on my own unfairness.
“I’m sorry for what I painted,” she admitted. “You were just… there.”
“I forgave you the moment I saw that painting. Maybe we could start over.”
“I’d like that,” she said, a smile evident in her voice.
We made plans to meet again, and I felt a flicker of hope for what could be.
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