Even more depressing, you know, than the splitting up of mini-cuties Ryan Phillippe and Reese Witherspoon (who, by the by, was heard eight friggin' months ago telling one of her young kiddos that Daddy was soon "moving out"—too weird, huh?), is the most likely fact that, yet again, nobody's gonna be watching the Oscars, come February. Like this is news or somethin'.
Just a hunch, that's all.
Far sexier, to be sure, would be further romance 'n' wedding gab I promised ya from yesterday. H&M and Viktor & Rolf's pretend-wedding do in Bel-Air. Fall Out Boy frontman and self-photography enthusiast Pete Wentz was around, so I asked him about his own rumored love sitches these days. "You and Ashlee Simpson, dating or not?" I asked.
"Not dating," he replied.
Liar, liar, pulled-down pants on fire! You two just hauled it, sex-ay style, right outta Hyde! (So, take the further gab from the gal-grabbin' guy with a grain or 10 o' salt.)
"You and Michelle Trachtenberg?" I pressed. "Not dating," he replied again (nicely enough, I must add, gorgeous sweet thing).
"Single." Shame. Especially with that equipment of his. Musical instruments, I mean.
Def not so single is TomKat, who finally reportedly set a friggin' wedding date after their big Eiffel Tower engagement thingy. I know 99.7 percent of you readers are sick o' hearing about it, but I wanted to know what celeb types would get the weirdo wowers for a gift.
"Therapy?" suggested the decidely uninterested star of Flicka, Alison Lohman. "I don't know."
"I wouldn't get them anything," sniffed Chloë Sevigny. "I'm not friends with them."
Maybe T-town stars are reaching their TomKat threshold along with the rest of the gossy world?
Nicole Kidman at Fred Segal in Santa Monica, which certainly seems to be the steppin'-out locale of choice for gals in times of dude distress! Remember how Nicky Hilton Rothschild hit up the posh store last week with the bloated Brandon Davis? Well, Nicole K. did the same on Thursday but with a gal-pal, while hubby Keith Urban is holed up in rehab. And N. seems to be faring way better than Miz Hilton. "She looked mellow...not bad," according to my snooty-shopping spy. Far more dubious was...
Sir Elton John, shakin' his thang in Hell-Ay at the Lounge at Club TigerHeat. The materialistic man (second only to Jacko, in that respect) stepped out solo, sans hubby David Furnish, in requisite glasses and "total gay garb," whatever the hell that is, dildos coming out of his ears or something? Elton was surrounded by security and fans alike, all of whom report to moi that E. was "very friendly." Fashion queens elsewhere included...
Elle Macpherson, struttin' her sex-ay stuff. The statuesque supermodel was feted as the new face of Erase Those Fine Lines for Model Co. Cosmetics. Henri Bendel in the Big Apple. Elle, lookin' smashing in a black babydoll dress and four-inch heels, was swarmed by fans, including two joggers who were randomly running on 5th Avenue. The sweaty dudes took a break to see E.M., pleased for a quickie G-rated peep show, if there is such a thing. Back on the West Coast, supporting other puss preppers, was...
David Hasselhoff, looking a little Brokeback Mountain-ish in denim, a button-down blue collared shirt and a not so hip Western jacket that flowed to his knees. MAC's big soiree on Robertson Boulevard, City of Fallen Foundations. What was this newly divorced dude thinking? Better luck next time, Hoff. Lookin' aeons hotter at the same bash was...
Eve, glammed out on the carpet. The regal rapper was seen looking stellar with long blond locks that were either a wig or extensions, according to follicle witnesses, and an adorably chic cream babydoll dress. The perfect accessory? Her muscular bodyguard (or perhaps beau).