Grammys Well Played: Pink

Pink here is reminding me that Brigitte Nielsen was really rather striking, before she started running around town licking a dude who wears clocks for a living.

And I love that dress on Pink — it’s not what you expect from someone as badass and ripped as she is, which is why I think it works. The ombre ruffled skirt is delicate and dramatic, as is the bling. And her date isn’t too shabby, either. We’d hate to see Carey Hart get rid of the motocross uniforms altogether, because there’s something gritty-hot about it, but the man scrubs up something fierce.

Pink also deserves props for the following, which is technically SFW despite the appearance of NSFW, but be careful anyway:

Pink has been wearing this for ages on her tour, but this is the first photo we’ve been able to post legally. So if the Grammys have done nothing else for us — and last night’s telecast REALLY didn’t — then at least they’ve yielded this. Britney’s nude catsuit on MTV that one year was barer, but to me this is even racier, because all that white tape makes you think a lot more about what’s covering up her bits, and where. She looks like she got into a fight with the dude on the police force who carries the corpse tape.

But she is WORKING it:

Yes, okay, it’s a frightening outfit. But Pink wore the hell out of that thing while hanging over the audience, being drenched with water, and performing tricks — right before being spun by her feet and then landing gracefully on them. None of which she did while vomiting, a feat that seems superhuman to me, and most of which she did while singing. And singing WELL. Please stand up and take note, tragic wannabes who can’t do anything without a computer modulating their voice and/or mouthing along to a backing track. I’d rather watch Pink perform in this costume a thousand times than sit through the likes of Heidi Montag or Leighton Meester or Paris Hilton a) lip-synching because they can’t move and croon at the same time, and/or b) flapping their gums along to a modulated voice that could be theirs, J.Lo’s, or even Willie Nelson’s, for all we freaking know. Say what you will about Taylor Swift (and I believe last night I noted that the key she was supposed to be singing in was in Los Angeles, and the key she ACTUALLY sang in was in Siberia), but at least she’s out there unafraid to use her real, raw voice. And say what you will about Pink wearing office supplies, but at least she — and Lady Gaga, even — is a reminder that there is a skill set involved in being a performer, and it includes more than just being able to wear tight pants and write a fat check to your record producer.

Right, Pink?

Damn skippy.