Daily Journal Of A Slacker • Posts Tagged ‘benedict cumberbatch’

His eyes.

I regret nothing.

Sorry Benedict.

lovely piece from esquire

Style Moment of The Week | Perfecting The Award Show Look

Men’s style at award shows has always been a game of inches instead of miles so it’s only fair of us to point out when someone manages to perfect every inch of their style. And, at Sunday’s Television Baftas, Benedict Cumberbatch did just that.

Most men at the show got it wrong in one way or another. There’s not enough space to list everything but common offences included: too small suits, too big suits, half undone ties (nothing worse than preplanned nonchalance) and, worst of all, bad shoes – we’re looking at you Keith Lemon and Alan Carr.

The man commonly known as Sherlock, however, avoided those pitfalls, teaming a perfectly tailored suit with a good pair of shoes and a slither of a Mad Men style pocket square. Perfectionists might say his time is a 1/4 inch undone but let’s not throw the baby out with the bath water.

The pocket square is the important part of this outfit. A well tailored suit is essential but it’s always the little things that elevate an outfit. Mad Men has gotten a bad rap lately, having become synonymous with any grey suit ever made but there’s still little tips worth taking from Draper & Co.

What can we take from this? The devil’s in the details – and never is that more apparent than at an event where everyone has to wear the same outfit. And get some good shoes, we all notice them.

Best thing ive ever seen :’)

gr3ytrain:

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A night at the BAFTAS

alexisagirlsname:

2.15pm on Sunday 27th May

My doorbell rings. The car has arrived. Yes, I have a ‘car.’ He goes by the name of Derek and he’s just pulled up in his Audi A8 to take me to the Corinthia to get my hair and make up done. Yes, this is actually happening. It’s the day of the BAFTAS and I’m nominated for a BAFTA in New Media for our work on Misfits.

After a couple of hours of veritable pampering, I arrive at Southbank. I tell Derek I’ll try not to be too late and he sends me off into the night. Says he’ll be waiting, to not worry and have a great time. He’s a bit like a dad. But he’s definitely not my dad.

I meet the rest of the Misfits crew. Iwan and Joe are outside having a cigarette and a chat with Nathan. Joe’s in his Vivienne Westwood suit, a vision in tartan. Iwan is always lovely. Petra’s looking glam. Chloe arrives. We grab a quick Sol, get our tickets and we’re off.

We arrive at the red carpet, it’s boiling in the hot sun. I shouldn’t have worn tights. I spot Ricky Gervais and the Eastenders Branning brothers. This pleases me. I’ve always fancied Max. We’re shuffled along, trying to get a glimpse as the fans cheer on the stars around us.

We enter into the hottest room ever, the champagne reception has begun. Someone in the corner is getting their photo taken with Rolf Harris. Millie and Pro Green are whispering sweet nothings to each other by the bar. I scan the room, whirlwind in full swing. I share a toilet queue with Tina Malone from Shameless. She wasn’t very smiley. And then suddenly, it’s time. Everyone’s walking up the stairs. We go in, I see Jennifer Saunders. I smile at her. I’m not sure if she sees me. I find my seat. We’re on the edge of a row.

The ceremony. It was very long. And hot. Dara O’Brien is extremely funny. First award, Best Drama Series. Straight in, Misfits is up for this one. Fingers crossed. It goes to The Fades. We smile, it’s ok. We’ve still got New Media. “It’s down to you now,” they say, jokingly. Pressure’s on.

Third award, New Media. That’s us. If we win I have to walk down there. What if I fall? What if I say something stupid? Whilst all these things are going through my mind, I realise that we didn’t win. Psychoville has got it. We smile. It’s ok. Kind of. Next year.

Finally, after three hours, they’re going to feed us. We dine, we laugh, we drink. Table 45. I’m sat with Matt and Oliver. Murray and Nathan trade laughs.

I go outside to what was the red carpet, and is now the terrace. The sun has gone down and it’s a beautiful balmy evening. Me and Jodie grab Joe for a picture. We both love him a little too much.

The rest is a bit of a champagne blur. Olivia Colman said she thought my dress was vintage (it’s not, it’s by Jones and Jones, downstairs in Topshop). She was lovely and looked stunning in her Vivienne Westwood dress.

Ollie Locke and I traded commiserations on our losses, but celebrated the fact that we were there at all. He’s a cutie. We all drank, we danced, we schmoozed.

And then, just when you thought it was all over…

I get into *my* Audi A8 at 2.11am, resigned to the fact that the night is over. Then, Dominic West knocks on the window asking for a lift to the Corinthia, he can’t find his driver. I concede. He sits in the back. He’s holding the BAFTA he just won for Leading actor. We talk about Joe (Gilgun) and how wonderful he is and how he wanted to meet him. I tell him he must.

They (him and his agent, Angharad) invite me for a drink, I ask Derek (the driver) if he would mind terribly waiting for me a little more, guilt weighing in strong (he’s been waiting for me since 4.45pm). I head in with them.

Dominic is trying to call Benedict Cumberbatch, he’s staying at the hotel. Shortly after, he comes and joins us. Their friend, Adam tried to make Whiskey sours out of egg white, lime juice and whiskey because the bar was closed. I stuck to my vodka soda.

I show Benedict ‘The NightJar,’ the iPhone game made by Somethin’ Else (I work there!) that he narrated. He’s never seen it before. He almost jumps at the sound of his own voice warning him not to run. He passes the level I’ve been stuck on for weeks, without headphones on. He’s incredibly humble and calm.

After boasting that my driver is much cooler than Dominic’s cos he’s waiting for me, my phone rings. Derek’s finally had enough. I go to leave. But not before getting a photo of myself holding that Bafta. (That’s Benedict behind me).

I didn’t win one, but that. was. FUN.