Chris Hemsworth’s Wife Slammed for Wearing ‘Pajamas’ to Star-Studded Event!

When Chris Hemsworth, the Australian heartthrob known for playing Thor, received his star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, his wife Elsa Pataky was in the spotlight for the wrong reasons.

As Chris celebrated his big day on the red carpet, Pataky faced criticism from fashion fans online for her outfit.

Find out why people were so upset about Pataky’s fashion choice!

On May 23, Chris Hemsworth received his star at 6819 Hollywood Boulevard, joining 2,780 other stars on the Walk of Fame. He was honored for his impressive performances that have captured audiences worldwide.

Chris Hemsworth, 40, shared his thanks on Instagram after receiving his star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. He posted several photos from the event and wrote, “This was wild and surreal! Huge thanks to the Hollywood Chamber of Commerce and the Walk of Fame selection committee for this honor. Also, a big shoutout to everyone who has helped and supported me on this amazing journey!”

His role as Thor in the Marvel Cinematic Universe has won him many fans around the world.

Chris Hemsworth’s Walk of Fame event was filled with family and friends. Among the photos he shared, you can see him with Robert Downey Jr., his proud parents, his wife Elsa Pataky, and their 12-year-old daughter India Rose, who was a bit shy in front of the camera.

Their twin boys, Sasha and Tristan, also joined in the celebration. One of them held Chris’s framed certificate, while the other sat by the new star with his dad’s name on it.

After the event, Elsa Pataky posted some family photos on Instagram and wrote, “We are so proud of you, my love… Congratulations on the Hollywood Walk of Fame Star.”

Fans loved the family photos and many admired the children for their great looks. However, some people focused on Elsa Pataky’s outfit.

Chris Hemsworth looked sharp in his navy suit and unbuttoned white shirt. But Elsa’s off-white gown with black lace received criticism. Some fans thought her style choices didn’t do justice to her beautiful figure and called her outfit tacky.

Some fans criticized Elsa Pataky’s outfit, comparing it to pajamas and commenting on her unbraided top. They felt it looked casual and not classy for the event. Others joked that she looked like she was rushed out of bed.

However, not everyone agreed. Some fans thought she looked stunning and didn’t see her outfit as lingerie or inappropriate.

Credit: Kevin Winter / Getty.

Some fans praised Elsa Pataky’s look, calling her absolutely gorgeous and youthful. Others admired the couple’s relationship, saying it’s an ideal example of a perfect family.

The Hollywood Walk of Fame honors celebrities for their achievements, and Australian and New Zealand actors like Nicole Kidman, Russell Crowe, and Cate Blanchett have received this honor too.

What do you think of Elsa Pataky’s outfit? Share your thoughts and spread the story to see what others think!

My Daughter’s In-Laws Took the Money I Sent Her & Treated Her Like the Maid—I Made Sure They Knew It Was a Big Mistake

When I gifted my daughter a house and car for her new life, I never imagined her in-laws would claim it all—and reduce her to their unpaid maid. They crossed a line, and I made sure they’d never forget who really held the keys.

I missed my only daughter’s wedding.

A sad woman | Source: Pexels

A sad woman | Source: Pexels

I was recovering from surgery abroad. I begged my doctor to let me fly, but he said, “You’re lucky to be standing. Don’t push it.” My heart broke when I saw the pictures from the wedding — Ava in white, her smile so wide it made me cry.

But I couldn’t be there.

A crying woman | Source: Pexels

A crying woman | Source: Pexels

I wanted to give her something big. Something that showed I was still with her, even from far away. So, I bought her and her husband, Jacob, a house. Not just helped with it — bought it outright.

Same with the car. A little gray SUV. Good for groceries, work, or weekend trips.

A gray SUV | Source: Pexels

A gray SUV | Source: Pexels

Everything was done legally. The house was in my name. So was the car. I trusted them, but life can be strange. It’s easier to gift something later than to get it back once it’s gone.

Once I was well enough, I booked a flight and packed my bags. I couldn’t wait to see her. To hug her. To see her life as a wife. I didn’t tell her I was coming. I wanted it to be a surprise.

A woman sitting on a suitcase | Source: Pexels

A woman sitting on a suitcase | Source: Pexels

But nothing could have prepared me for what I saw.

I let myself in with the key Ava had sent me months ago. The house was quiet. Then I heard something from the kitchen — a soft scrubbing sound.

There she was. My Ava. On her knees. Scrubbing the floor with a bucket and sponge. Her hair was tied back. Her face looked pale.

A woman scrubbing floors | Source: Freepik

A woman scrubbing floors | Source: Freepik

In the living room, on the couch, sat Charles and Linda — her in-laws. They were eating lunch, watching TV.

Linda didn’t even look up. “Don’t forget the hallway this time,” she said, chewing loudly.

“Yeah,” Charles added. “This plate’s still dirty. Wash it again.”

I stood there frozen.

Ava saw me and gasped. “Mom? What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to surprise you,” I said softly.

A smiling woman with open arms | Source: Freepik

A smiling woman with open arms | Source: Freepik

She got up fast and wiped her hands on her pants. “Let’s talk later, okay? Just… not now.”

Charles glanced at me. “Oh. You must be the mother.”

Linda smiled, tight-lipped. “Nice of you to drop by.”

I didn’t answer. I just watched.

Dinner that night felt like a quiet ache in my chest.

A family dinner | Source: Pexels

A family dinner | Source: Pexels

Ava moved through the kitchen with tired grace, stirring the pot, flipping the meat, setting the table. She did it all alone, without a word from anyone else. Charles stayed on the couch, glued to the TV, while Linda sat near the window, scrolling through her phone and humming softly to herself.

“It smells a little burnt,” Linda muttered, not even bothering to glance up.

Ava carried the plates over and softly called, “Dinner’s ready.”

A woman setting the table | Source: Pexels

A woman setting the table | Source: Pexels

Charles didn’t move. “Bring it here,” he said. “I’m in the middle of something.”

She obeyed without complaint, walking back and forth between the kitchen and the couch. No one said thank you.

Linda took one bite and shook her head. “Too dry. Did you cook this too long?”

Charles grunted. “Needs salt.”

Ava smiled faintly and nodded. “I’ll do better next time.”

A mature woman with her arms folded | Source: Pexels

A mature woman with her arms folded | Source: Pexels

I watched her carefully. Her hands moved out of habit, her eyes dull with exhaustion. When the meal ended, she quietly cleared the plates and started washing dishes. Not a soul offered to help.

I walked up beside her. “Why are you doing everything?” I asked softly.

She didn’t stop scrubbing. “They’re just staying for a while. It’s temporary.”

“How long has it been?”

A woman washing the dishes | Source: Pexels

A woman washing the dishes | Source: Pexels

She paused. “Since the wedding.”

“And they think Jacob bought the house?”

Ava glanced at me, then looked down. “Yes. I didn’t correct them. It just seemed easier that way.”

I took a deep breath. “Easier for who, sweetheart?”

She didn’t answer.

A sad woman looking to her side | Source: Pexels

A sad woman looking to her side | Source: Pexels

That night, I couldn’t sleep. I lay awake, listening to the stillness of the house. My mind kept playing it over — Ava running herself ragged, while Charles and Linda lived like royalty in a home they thought was theirs.

She tiptoed around them like a guest in her own life.

A woman sleeping in her bed | Source: Midjourney

A woman sleeping in her bed | Source: Midjourney

The next morning, I stood at the front window and looked out at the car in the driveway. It was spotless. Not a smudge on the paint. It looked like it hadn’t missed a single outing.

Ava walked by with a basket of laundry, her hair tied back, sleeves rolled up. “Do you ever drive it?” I asked.

She shook her head. “No. They use it. I don’t really go anywhere anymore. I don’t have time.”

A woman doing laundry | Source: Pexels

A woman doing laundry | Source: Pexels

That simple sentence hit me like a stone.

They had taken more than just her space. They had taken her freedom. Her voice. Her joy. I saw it now — how small she’d become in her own home, trying not to offend, trying to keep the peace.

A sad mature woman looking down | Source: Freepik

A sad mature woman looking down | Source: Freepik

And Jacob? He was away on another work trip, unaware or unwilling to see what was happening under his own roof. Maybe he didn’t know. Maybe Ava didn’t tell him. Or maybe she thought it wasn’t worth the trouble.

I looked at my daughter — pale, quiet, too polite to ask for more — and I knew I couldn’t leave things the way they were.

Something had to change.

A tired woman holding her head | Source: Pexels

A tired woman holding her head | Source: Pexels

Later that afternoon, I asked everyone to come into the kitchen. Charles shuffled in, remote still in hand. Linda followed, sighing as she sat and crossed her legs.

“What is this, a meeting now?” she said with a smirk.

Ava glanced at me, worried. “Mom?”

I straightened my back. “Yes. A house meeting.”

My voice was steady. My mind was made up. I took a breath and began.

A serious woman in her living room | Source: Freepik

A serious woman in her living room | Source: Freepik

“I’ve been here for two days,” I said calmly. “And I’ve watched my daughter do every bit of cooking, cleaning, laundry, and driving. While the two of you relax like you’re on vacation.”

Linda let out a dry laugh. “We’re guests. We don’t follow housemaid schedules.”

I didn’t blink. “You’re not guests. You’ve been living here for months. Eating, showering, doing laundry, using the car — all without lifting a finger.”

Charles shifted in his chair. “What’s your point?”

A serious mature man | Source: Pexels

A serious mature man | Source: Pexels

“My point,” I said, “is simple. If you live in this house, you contribute. Ava is not your maid.”

Linda rolled her eyes. “You can’t just come in here and change the rules. This is Jacob’s house. Not yours.”

I paused for a moment, then looked her dead in the eye.

“No. It’s not Jacob’s house,” I said. “It’s mine.”

They both froze.

A smiling woman touching her lips | Source: Pexels

A smiling woman touching her lips | Source: Pexels

“What are you talking about?” Charles asked, his voice rising.

“I bought this house. The deed is in my name. I also bought the car. It’s registered to me.”

Linda’s mouth opened, then closed. Her face turned a shade of red I hadn’t seen before.

“You’re joking,” she finally said.

“I’m not,” I replied. “This house was a gift for Ava — something I wanted her to enjoy when the time was right. But legally, it still belongs to me.”

A mature woman looking to her side | Source: Freepik

A mature woman looking to her side | Source: Freepik

Linda took a step forward. “We have nowhere else to go! You can’t just kick us out!”

I looked at her, calm as ever. “That’s not Ava’s responsibility. Or mine.”

“But we’re family—”

“No,” I interrupted. “You’re extended family, not royalty. If you want to stay, you pull your weight. If not, you can pack your things and go.”

Silence fell. You could hear the hum of the refrigerator.

An angry mature woman pointing at the camera | Source: Freepik

An angry mature woman pointing at the camera | Source: Freepik

Ava stood frozen, lips parted.

I turned to her and softened my tone. “Sweetheart, you deserve better than this. This is your home. And it’s time you lived in it like it is.”

Ava swallowed hard. Her eyes brimmed with tears. Then, barely above a whisper, she said, “Thank you.”

That was enough.

A smiling young woman | Source: Freepik

A smiling young woman | Source: Freepik

Within the week, Charles and Linda packed up and left. No big farewell. Just a slammed door and the sound of tires on gravel.

Ava collapsed into my arms that evening, her body shaking. “I didn’t know how to say no,” she cried.

“You don’t have to explain,” I said, holding her tight. “You were trying to keep the peace. But peace isn’t peace if it costs you everything.”

A woman drinking tea with her daughter | Source: Pexels

A woman drinking tea with her daughter | Source: Pexels

We spent the next few days reclaiming her space. We rearranged the furniture, cleaned the closets, and opened every window in the house. Sunlight poured in. Ava laughed more. She moved easier. She started humming while making coffee.

On Saturday, I tossed her the keys. “Let’s take that car for a spin.”

We drove with the windows down, wind in our hair, music playing loud. For the first time in months, I saw her smile without effort.

A happy woman driving | Source: Pexels

A happy woman driving | Source: Pexels

That night, as we sat in the quiet living room, she rested her head on my shoulder.

“I forgot what it felt like to be me,” she whispered.

I kissed the top of her head.

She’s not a maid. She’s not a servant. She’s my daughter. And no one gets to forget that.

A woman hugging her mother | Source: Pexels

A woman hugging her mother | Source: Pexels

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