Oscar Post-Party Fug-or-Fab Carpet: Elizabeth Banks

I kept squinting at this to try and discern whether that’s flesh-toned fabric, or actual skin showing on the bodice. Seriously, I gave myself a headache before I thought to go look for a close-up. Oscar Week really fries me. It’s like that old anti-drug commercial: Crack an egg in a hot pan and call it My Brain On Oscars.

Let’s take the aforementioned closer look, shall we?

It’s skin, and the effect and workmanship is actually rather cool — like, that bodice is keeping everything in its place without looking like it took the efforts of three pounds of boob tape and a helper monkey. There is, however, a whiff of underboob. See it? I feel gross even asking you to ogle her there, but it’s for WORK, I PROMISE. It’s not crazy-trashy underboob –a thing of which I was unaware there were different flavors until this exact moment — but it’s still THERE. Plus, you gaze at this long enough it starts to seem as though a giant made a Sharpie out of a coal mine, buried a treasure in Elizabeth’s rib cage, and made X mark the spot.