The day of the 2019 Oscars, thousands of men—who I’m presuming live in their parent’s basements and holla from the passenger side of their best friend’s ride—had their already-fragile masculinity shattered when Billy Porter entered the Academy Awards resembling the black Cinderella and bibbidi-bobbidi-booed all over the red carpet.
Porter, who has made it known that the red carpet belongs to him, came to the 91st Academy Awards wearing a velvet tuxedo gown designed by Christian Siriano.
A tornado destroyed a Mississippi church. A baptism still took place there the next day
Presumably smelling like lavender, a good FICO credit score and rocking probably about a smooth 40 lbs of fabric, Porter received his 10’s and strutted down that damn red carpet purse first, as if his life depended on it.
Soon after he made his iconic reveal, an alert sent to the ashiest amongst us was dispersed, emboldening countless men to give their unwarranted and unasked for opinions on Porter’s look.
