Dangerous Curves

I caught about 3 minutes of last night’s American Music Awards. It was the 3 minutes that featured Beyoncé. She was wearing one of her trademark form-fitting satin gowns – very tight everywhere except below the knees (always useful for the walking part of the evening).

Here's a picture. I love that the author refers to this look as that of a 'glamorous clam.'

I wondered momentarily if the designer had left part of the top of it off – the little pleats that extended above the strapless bodice didn’t go very far and there was quite a lot of what my friend Clay calls ‘busty substance’ showing in abundance above the tightly corseted bodice.

And you know what? That’s fine. If you’re a major international recording star with a lot of image to support, I’m happy for you to do so in a very constrictive Merry Widow-esque gown if that’s what does it for you. She created a pretty spectacular silhouette.

What creeped me out big time was what happened when they called her name. She stood up to go get her award, but first she stopped to give her dad a hug. This was not creepy in and of itself, of course. It was just that she was hugging her dad while wearing a dress that was essentially a large amount of bosom on a chest-level platter, dressed with frills that were bravely trying to cover what needed covering. Frilled, exposed bosom, right up there in a big ol’ daddy hug.

Shudder.

Now I’m not one for a great deal of chest exposure myself. (Shocking I know.) I don’t find it all that offensive in others’ wardrobes, if it’s managed appropriately – I do think a J-Lo esque torso-baring gown is NOT appropriate at, say, family Thanksgiving dinner. But I gotta say, if my chest were that bare, there are VERY FEW people I would actually hug. I would want most people to stand back and admire from… over there. Especially my dad.