Oscar Well-Played Carpet: Jennifer Aniston

That’s right, Aniston, prepare to be shocked and amazed: We totally dug this dress on you.

It’s not black! It’s not plain! It’s downright glittery! It’s completely flattering! And frankly, you have every right to look happy, since you stood up there in front of Brangelina — knowing full well that the entire time you and Jack Black did your comedy bit, the telecast directors would be squawking about cutting to as many shots of them staring up at you as possible — and you nailed it gracefully and as if nobody in the room had ever divorced you and then knocked up the world’s most beautiful woman two times. It’s a shame you’re dating kind of a douche. A funny douche, and a personable one, sure, but still, isn’t it a tad fishy that John Mayer was supposedly asking for “space” and “breathing room” and other commitment-phobe cliches about a week or two ago, then conveniently decided to be all over you at the post-parties for the Academy Awards? Although maybe you see right through it. Maybe you wanted it that way — seriously, bring a date who appears smitten with your yoga-sculpted hot ass, just in case you bump into Angelina at the bar. Maybe you are a genius. Regardless, you looked gorgeous, so bask in the glow of our collective affection and then go find a nicer, more reliable boy toy that you are not in danger of needing to enroll in Tool Academy. That Zachary Levi is cute, AND tall. John Stamos is single — who doesn’t love Uncle Jesse? Ben Roethlisberger needs a nice lady friend to remind him about wearing helmets on his motorcycle. See? There are options.