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Nikki Glaser’s Monologue and Other Moments From the 2025 Globes

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Nikki Glaser’s Monologue and Other Moments From the 2025 Globes

The bar wasn’t set very high for the Golden Globes on Sunday night. After last year’s host, Jo Koy, memorably bombed, the emcee this year, Nikki Glaser, could hardly do worse. But she wasn’t content to merely do better. After workshopping her opening monologue in dozens of club appearances over the holidays, she killed when it counted, cracking up the stars on hand at the Beverly Hilton in Beverly Hills, Calif., and winning over viewers on social media. The rest of the night went more or less smoothly, with a mix of expected and surprise winners. But it wouldn’t be an awards ceremony if there weren’t some truly off-kilter moments. Here are the highs and lows as we saw them.

When Glaser began putting together her Golden Globes monologue in early December, she told her writing staff, “Don’t be scared to be weird.”

You saw evidence of this in her stellar monologue on Sunday, which included the kind of hard punchlines she is known for, including a good insult of Paramount+ and a joke about the effect of Sean Combs’s arrest on the after-party. But there was also an impression of Adam Sandler pronouncing Timothée Chalamet’s name that was just pure silliness — Sandler even joined in. Glaser doesn’t usually do impressions, but she committed and it went over really well, adding to the celebratory, fun tone to kick the night off.

If there was a joke that crushed in every test run, it was probably when she mentioned a few nominees: “‘Wicked,’ ‘Queer,’ ‘Nightbitch,’” then added “Not just things Ben Affleck yells after sex.” On Sunday, it killed again. — Jason Zinoman

Glaser’s night started on the red carpet with a billowing strapless gold ball gown. For her first onstage appearance, she changed into a sequined silver sleeveless gown. By 8:30, she was on her third dress of the night. An hour into the ceremony, she was on Dress No. 5 (a sequined pink sleeveless stunner). By the end of the night, she had donned what seemed like 47 more. All that was missing? We’d have loved to see a dupe of Demi Moore’s viral yellow “Substance” coat. — Sarah Bahr

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Thus far, it’s been an excitingly unpredictable awards season, and though the Globes certainly gave a lot of hardware to already-strong contenders like “Emilia Pérez” and “The Brutalist,” it still feels like a wide open field. In the acting races, unexpected wins for the likes of Demi Moore, Fernanda Torres and Sebastian Stan produced some of the most heartfelt speeches of the night and made already competitive Oscar categories even harder to predict. And a total shutout of “Anora,” which went into Sunday flying high, means that little is decided this season, a fun development after several years in which the ultimate Oscar winners seemed a foregone conclusion long before the Globes weighed in. — Kyle Buchanan

Given that Hollywood awards shows celebrate the art of playing a role, perhaps it shouldn’t have been a big surprise that the dominant trend of the 2025 Globes red carpet was … retro role-playing. Ariana Grande did her best Audrey Hepburn impression in 1966 Givenchy couture; Selena Gomez channeled Jackie Kennedy in ice-blue Prada and a stylized bob; and Nicole Kidman and Margaret Qualley sported enormous Catherine Deneuve bouffants — all in a sea of mostly traditional tuxedos.

You can call it a return to classicism, or a retreat to the past, or the legacy of Joan Rivers, who instilled the fear of mockery in celebrities everywhere. But by the time Elle Fanning and Monica Barbaro had arrived in their newfangled Balmain and Dior versions of oldfangled 1950s ball gowns, it was hard not to wish that the stylists and designers working behind the scenes would start facing forward rather than back, and convince their clients to take a few more (unscripted) risks. — Vanessa Friedman

Read more about the red carpet looks.

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While the Globes have no direct bearing on Oscar nominations, academy members are surely paying attention, and Demi Moore, who won for “The Substance,” may have landed herself a spot in the best actress category with her rousing speech. Both poignant and relatable, Moore spoke movingly about her career struggles over more than 30 years, including being told she was a “popcorn actress.” She added that she had received the “bonkers” script for “The Substance” when she was at a low point in her career, thinking she was done.

But at 62, Moore has had a reversal of fortune and the stars in the room cheered her on, some even giving her a standing ovation. Thinking of “those moments when we don’t think we’re smart enough, or pretty enough, or skinny enough, or successful enough, or basically just not enough,” Moore said, a woman told her, “Just put down the measuring stick.” — Nicole Sperling

Many Golden Globe nominees have been to the Beverly Hilton before. And although the Globes are now a more serious operation than they once were, actors still treat wins with varying levels of reverence. That made Tadanobu Asano’s acceptance speech for “Shogun” stand out. It was his first win, on his first nomination, and it showed. “Maybe you don’t know me,” he began. “I’m an actor from Japan. My name is Tadanobu Asano. Wow!” His peers stood and cheered him on. And as he grinned and clutched his award, he added: “This is a very big present for me!” He sure seemed like he meant it. — Matt Stevens

The award for “cinematic and box office achievement” debuted in 2024, and this year it was, unsurprisingly, given to “Wicked.” The official criteria is that it is the “most acclaimed, highest-earning and/or most viewed” feature, which basically describes every nominated film. But it also must have made $150 million worldwide, with at least $100 million domestically, which is pretty much the dictionary definition of a blockbuster. (“Wicked” finished 2024 with well over $680 million worldwide.)

This is a weird award to give out, and its presenter Vin Diesel made it even weirder by contrasting, in his preamble, his own “Fast and Furious” series and the work of Steven Spielberg (who invented the summer blockbuster with “Jaws” in 1975). But it’s also just a tad participation trophy-ish to hand out a golden statue to celebrate a movie making bank at the box office, no matter how fun the movie is. To quote Don Draper: “That’s what the money’s for.” — Alissa Wilkinson

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Amid an onslaught of commercials for weight loss injections and various pharmaceutical creams, pills, drops and supplements, Nikki Glaser took some of the usual potshots at Hollywood’s penchant for plastic surgery. “I love where you put your cheekbones!” she riffed to the audience in her opening monologue.

But unlike other hosts, she acknowledged that she had been getting her tweaks on, too. Claiming, with air quotes, that she had started healthy habits like “drinking more water,” she said: “I love how meditating removes your eyelids” — aka the common tuck known as an upper bleph. “I learned nothing from ‘The Substance,’” she added.

That that movie, a feminist body horror tale, won Demi Moore her first Globe for playing an aging star who finds a grotesque way to youthify herself, only added to the evening’s hall of mirrors. — Melena Ryzik

Hey, did you know that Mindy Kaling was named after the TV show “Mork & Mindy?” Or that Zoe Saldaña’s go-to karaoke song is “Piece of My Heart”? The Golden Globes went all “Pop-Up Video” during the telecast, sharing these “facts” about winners and presenters via onscreen text. At first, the addition seemed semi-clever, but it all became too much when the announcer shared more facts on top of the ones we had to read. Even if you’re celebrity-obsessed, this turned out to be T.M.I. — Mekado Murphy

I found the trivia at the Golden Globes to be refreshingly weird. Awards season fun-facts can feel so canned: who spent time with who to prepare for a role, when was the last big win for a nominee. T.M.I. or not, my night was greatly improved by learning that Demi Moore is an avid doll collector with a separate residence to house her more than 2,000 vintage dolls. — Annie Aguiar

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The Globes are a notoriously boozy affair, but after “Hacks” won for best television comedy, Paul W. Downs, a co-creator of the series, warned against giving his star a celebratory drink. The show is currently in production on its fourth season, and a 6 a.m. call time awaited the cast and crew the next morning.

“So if Jean Smart asks you for a shot, please do not give it to her, OK?” Downs said. “Kate Winslet, I’m looking at you, wherever you are. Give her water.” The camera cut to Winslet, who shook a finger at Downs. Downs relinquished, “Just a little shot. Maybe one.” — Esther Zuckerman

Elton John reacted like a proud parent when he announced that Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross had won best original score for “Challengers,” yelping with utter, seemingly genuine delight. He was a good stand-in for those of us in the audience who were thrilled to see a win for that thumping, propulsive music. When Reznor and Ross took the stage, John could be seen grinning eagerly behind them, as if he had just won himself. — Kellina Moore

For an ostensibly glamorous ceremony, the show itself looked terrible onscreen. Presenters were filmed awfully close up, giving everything a harsh and casual vibe. The swirling camera work during some of the acceptance speeches felt like the red carpet slo-mo booth had broken out of its enclosure. And presenters did not face the entire theater, but rather turned directly to a camera off to one side. Seth Rogen called it out, saying “It’s inelegant. It’s strange. This whole half of the room can see my bald spot. I would have filled that in. I said no, but I regret that now.” — Margaret Lyons

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She Had Seen Her in Photos. Then They Met in Real Life.

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She Had Seen Her in Photos. Then They Met in Real Life.

The kiss finally happened at a Halloween party Chatterjee hosted at her apartment, while the two were watching “American Psycho” on the couch at 3 a.m., when everyone else had gone out for food. “We’re sitting so close our legs are touching and I’m freaking out,” Braggins said.

“I looked at Abby, and I was like, ‘I’d rather kiss you than watch this,’” Chatterjee said. So they did. About a month later, they were official.

On April 10, Braggins suggested they take a trip to Home Goods in Brooklyn. When they ended up at Coney Island Beach instead, Chatterjee was none the wiser. It was an early morning, so the two, along with the dog they adopted together, Willow, enjoyed having the beach to themselves.

Braggins ran ahead with Willow and crouched behind some rocks. When Chatterjee got a glimpse of Willow, there was a bandanna tied around her neck. It said, “Will you marry me?” Braggins pulled out a shell with a ring in it. The answer was yes.

A few days before, Chatterjee had proposed to Braggins amid a gloomy, cloudy sky on top of the Empire State Building.

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The two were married on April 21 at the New York City Marriage Bureau, in front of three guests, by Guohuan Zhang, a city clerk. Afterward, they celebrated at Bungalow, an Indian restaurant in the East Village, with a few more friends.

Though Chatterjee’s parents were not present at the wedding, one of the couple’s most meaningful moments came in 2023, when Braggins traveled to India to meet Chatterjee’s family for the first time. Chatterjee had never brought a partner home before, and she had warned Braggins that same-sex relationships were still not widely accepted there. But by the end of the trip, Chatterjee’s mother had embraced Braggins as family, telling her, “I have two daughters now.”

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L.A. Affairs: We were integrating our worlds and families. Then came the boob texts

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L.A. Affairs: We were integrating our worlds and families. Then came the boob texts

I was comfortable being called “weekend girl” and had even coined the nickname. We met running on Ocean Avenue in Santa Monica. Our first date followed: a run through Pacific Palisades. We talked about food. Our second date: dinner. We talked about running. I was coming out of a sticky romantic relationship and into a new job, so a casual fling seemed appropriate. We had endless common interests; making plans was easy. He was the best kisser I’d ever come across, but I still liked my solo weeknights.

It continued that way for a few months. There were sleepless nights of laughter and love-making. I didn’t care where he was on a Wednesday. I had a dumpy, dark one-bedroom further south on the disregarded part of Bundy Drive, and he had a well-appointed and nicely lit two-bedroom, so weekends were at his place or occasionally the Ace Hotel in Palm Springs. Things were light and fluffy until he made a proposal.

“Do you want to be adventure buddies?” he asked while we dined at the hotel bar.

“Well, yes, I like that title. Does that mean I’m not ‘weekend girl’ anymore?”

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“Adventure buddies” had a nice ring, but it was vague.

“I was thinking we can clear out a closet at my place, and you could spend more time there.” He faced forward.

We organized the closet the following weekend. I was wearing a T-shirt and just my underwear, while he was wearing his sleeping shorts, no shirt. We agreed it was a fantastic Friday night. I woke up in the morning to a warm California sun and hot coffee, sipped on the balcony. Noticing that the outdoor space got just enough light to wring out some tomatoes, we headed to the nursery to top off our nest.

I had been a serial apartment dweller with limited outdoor space, so I never knew the color of my thumbs. We plucked three healthy tomato plants and three pots. We added plant food and tomato cages to the cart. The staff offered their expertise several times, and I wondered if I was wearing something that screamed “gardening noob.” We declined the help, as it seemed easy enough; put the plants in the dirt and water them.

Two blissful months later, we were getting some tomatoes and lots of loving. We were planning adventures, date nights and what we would cook with our forages from the farmers’ market. It was effortless. We spent most of our time just the two of us, but we were slowly integrating our respective worlds and families. I was the happiest I had ever been, and I felt fortunate. Gratitude is due when your biggest problem is the sad-looking tomato plants on your balcony. Something was wrong.

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Back to the garden center we went, bringing a leaf as a specimen. They said we had an unidentified pest and pointed us to the neem oil. We got back to our babies, and as we started to spray, there they were: hornworms. They were bright green with pokey stinger-looking things on their butts, and they were as long as my index finger. There were dozens of them. We loaded them into a giant mason jar, but it was too late. My green dreams were now caterpillar nightmares. Maybe we should have asked more questions in the beginning? How did I not notice this sooner?

“Wanna get froyo?” I was a sucker for mochi and figured that would cheer me up.

“Sure, just gonna take a quick shower.” He set his phone down and hopped in. I went to grab my mascara and saw the white and blue messages light up.

“I wish I were with you tonight, but Em is here.” No name, just a number. I scrolled up — boobs but no face. Who was this girl?

I didn’t move to L.A. to become an actor, but I sure put on a performance that night. I let the phone go black without a word as the shower shut off. We ate the yogurt and called it an early night. I lay mummy-style and wide-eyed next to him through the sleepless night. By daybreak, I had a plan.

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I spent the next morning with his iPad reading through text chains. “You’re so gorgeous,” or “I’d love to take you to dinner,” or “I am not with that girl; you are the one for me.” There were nudes and sexts and I love yous. And so, so many people. I gasped and shook while reading the first few lines, but it became more like entertainment as the minutes passed. It was more than two hours of reading material. I was hungry and had planned to get my nails done, so I grabbed the wallet he had left on the table and helped myself to a champagne lunch and a mani-pedi.

I got home before he did and prepped myself for the fireworks. The bubbles and the “five-more-minutes” foot massage helped boost my confidence.

“Babe!” he exclaimed, excited and clueless.

“Babe!” I parroted. “I just finished reading your iPad! What a productive morning!”

I was calm while he paused.

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“Oh my god. Get out. I can’t believe you violated my privacy,” he yelled.

I responded without defensiveness. “It’s sad. I thought I loved you. But it turns out you love 13 others — and that ain’t gonna work for me.” With calculated confidence, I directed him to pack my things from the closet. I was eager to get back to my dungeon-like, safe apartment.

“I hope you get help. It seems like you need it.” I really did care for him, and it was hard to drive away.

It was a lot to take in over a short time, but I am grateful for the lessons. For me, integrity is paramount and asking questions up-front is a must. Even when the dating gets tough, I won’t settle for less than the truth. This summer, I will be companion planting basil, dill and marigolds with my tomatoes and an occasional spritz of a natural insecticide.

The author is an entrepreneur and working on a book about overcoming betrayal. She splits her time between L.A. and Michigan. She’s on Instagram: @emilybrynwilliams.

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L.A. Affairs chronicles the search for romantic love in all its glorious expressions in the L.A. area, and we want to hear your true story. We pay $400 for a published essay. Email LAAffairs@latimes.com. You can find submission guidelines here. You can find past columns here.

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Why Everyone Was So Mad About the Met Gala

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Why Everyone Was So Mad About the Met Gala

There are, as I’m writing this, just shy of 500 reader comments on our recap of our 15 favorite looks from the Met Gala on Monday. The top comments are almost all negative.

“I’m sorry. I find this display of ‘fashion’ disgusting and I wish the NYT wouldn’t celebrate it,” reads the most recommended comment. “I’m struck by how out of touch and unrelatable this feels for the average American,” is the one just below that. A few down we get the first of many comparisons to the elitist incongruity captured in “The Hunger Games.”

The uneasy state of the American economy watered the soil for this sentiment to grow. Gas prices have soared since the onset of the war in Iran. The cost of groceries remains stubbornly high. The word “inequality” came up five times in the comments section of our story. It seems that the gala, to some, landed as a financially frivolous, Marie Antoinette-like affair.

For a few years, the Met Gala has ignited these “Hunger Games” comparisons, as the event has mutated into a competition of which attendee can wear the most baroque, procession-halting dress. I lost count of the celebrities who proudly shared how many hours it took to make their ensembles.

This, more than anything, seemed like the point where they were misjudging the simmering animus toward them.

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If the intention was to laud the work and elevate the craftsmanship involved in making garments like these, it was ringing hollow in this forum, where tickets cost upward of hundreds of thousands of dollars for a table. The opulence of the clothes became another example of billionaire class entitlement for a cause most people don’t benefit from.

It’s not an entirely new conversation, even if the critiques were louder this year. Five years ago, when Representative Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez wore a dress splayed with “Tax the Rich,” she sprayed lighter fluid onto a hot conversation about the class politics of this particular charity event. (At this year’s gala, Sarah Paulson arrived with a dollar bill stretched over her eyes, an intended critique on the influence of money that many viewers saw as a hollow gesture.)

The discourse roared with a particular fervor in the lead-up to Monday for the marquee presence of Jeff Bezos and his wife, Lauren Sánchez Bezos, one of the world’s wealthiest couples.

Placing the Bezoses at the apex of the gala ratcheted up the sense that something already well outside the reaches of the average person had been taken to a new tier of exclusivity. There were protests centered around Bezos, and at the event Christian Smalls, a former Amazon union leader, attempted to storm the carpet. He was arrested and charged with two misdemeanors.

“It shouldn’t be that way when you have all of this money and wealth,” Smalls said of Bezos in an interview with The Times on Wednesday. “He should pay his workers a fair share.”

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In responding to cries of elitism, the Met Gala’s organizers have long pointed to the money that the event raises. They did so again this year. At a news conference on Monday introducing the Met’s new fashion exhibition, Anna Wintour, the event’s longtime chair (and the global editorial director of Vogue magazine), shared that this was the most successful Met Gala ever, having raised $42 million.

“That money could feed and clothe many hundreds of less fortunate people,” read the top comment on our Met Gala story.

We’ve come to expect anti-celebrity comments when we cover cultural events. “Who cares!” is a common, if slightly disingenuous, refrain given how many readers clamor to see and vote on their favorite looks from awards shows.

But there’s a meaningful difference between the Met Gala and many other red carpet events. At the Oscars or the Emmys, the arrivals lead to a star-studded performance the public can watch, shows with a purpose — celebrating talent (subjective though that is) — that is self-evident. For the viewing public, the Met Gala ends at the doorstep of the museum. If you’re watching at home, the gala can be seen as nothing more than a bunch of grandiose clothes that lead nowhere.

In reading up on the life of Ted Turner, who died Wednesday at 87, I perked up at this five-word sentence in Malcolm Gladwell’s 2010 profile of the media mogul: “He dressed like a cowboy.” It led me to scroll through photos of the Cincinnati-born businessman — especially in the 1970s, when he was sailing in a piqué polo and an incongruous striped conductor’s cap or taking in his Atlanta Braves with his button-up shirt undone to mid-chest.

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Turner, a college dropout, who was a prolific drinker (and philanderer), looked rugged — swashbuckling even. He was, it should be said, handsome. In some images, Turner, with his modest mustache, looks like Robert Redford’s body double. But it’s remarkable to visit these images now, when all corporate titans — of media, tech and otherwise — dress so alike. They’re Sun Valley clones in their fleece vests, stretch chinos and dad caps that they theatrically pull low in front of cameras.

But Turner was indeed a telecom cowboy, upending how networks ran in his rugby shirts, knit ties and denim. He looked suave. How few media C.E.O.’s can we say that about now?


Everywhere I go I see young men in ribbed tank tops, sometimes with unbuttoned shirts on top, but often not. The tank tops can be black, white or gray, but they’re worn with everything — not just as undershirts, as I was taught was correct. What is going on? — Richard, Philadelphia

The tank top may seem basic — just a sleeveless cotton top with a scooped neck — but as a garment it contains multitudes. It has roots in the working class and the professional class, the military and the farm, men’s wear and women’s wear, sports and Hollywood, gay culture, rap culture, gym culture and indie sleaze. Read more …


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