It’s two hours before the Oscars begin, and I am running barefoot down the sidewalk a block from the Dolby theatre in Los Angeles. In the multiverse of ways my first trip to the Academy Awards could’ve played out, there was a version where I remembered I had a vehicle pass, my Uber made the correct stop and I wasn’t barricaded from the entrance. (There probably was not a version where Everything Everywhere All at Once, the most nominated film of the evening and by far the most cheered inside the auditorium, didn’t triumph over the ceremony.)
But that’s not how things went, so I found myself on the wrong side of the theatre and unable to call a car that could reach me. My Saint Laurent heels, sourced from a friend’s mom in New York the day prior – which was less than a day after I learned I was going to the Oscars as a last-minute replacement for a reporter with a visa snafu – are beautiful, but not the best for navigating the sidewalks, fences and crowds around Hollywood Boulevard. This has been written and told to me several times, but it’s still notable – the Oscars are basically held at a mall. One replete with tourists gawking for a glimpse at a celebrity and passersby seemingly confused as to why there are hordes of police cars, but still. It’s a theatre next to a Hard Rock Cafe, not necessarily the glamour you’d expect for Hollywood’s biggest night.
