The Down and Dirty Dispatches from the Red Carpet

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On TV, awards shows look so glamorous, with elegant, perfectly coiffed celebrities and an overwhelming sense of envy for the experience to be your own. But what if you’re really there, standing on a red carpet outside the Grammys or the Oscars? Is it all you dreamed of ? The answer is yes and no, because awards shows, like all television, are a carefully built fa?ade of grandeur.

At the Golden Globes this year, for instance, what you couldn’t see in the televised aerial views of the Beverly Hilton was a massive sinkhole of mud just feet away from the hotel, caused by a deluge of rain the day before. Staff and caterers were forced to trek through the water-logged dirt all day. The year before, a pipe burst on the red carpet just before the stars started to arrive and the journalists there covering the event were forced to inhale a mist of chemical-heavy carpet cleaner for the next four hours .

What you don’t see is the work that it takes to be a journalist (or a publicist, for that matter) on the red carpet. If the stars are set to arrive at 2 p.m., the journalists are ordered to be there at least an hour earlier, to just wait in their spot, jammed shoulder to shoulder with other journalists. That much coveted spot on the red carpet actually has you barricaded in by waist-high fake hedges that you have to reach over to speak with celebrities as if you are some nosy neighbor checking out their backyard barbecue.

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One red carpet veteran I know hauls around an enormous bag stocked with food, chargers, a laptop, a toothbrush, makeup, extra clothing and a backup cell phone. Everyone has their own version of a red carpet snack – some reporters show up with foot-long Subway sandwiches, some bring fruit, some stick to granola bars. No one drinks liquids because there are no bathroom breaks. You’re not allowed to leave your spot. I don’t eat since I fear I’ll end up interviewing Reese Witherspoon with spinach in my teeth. Instead, I carbo-load and ingest a mountain of protein before an awards show (if Chipotle and their 9,000 calorie burrito bowls want to sponsor me next year, that would be great).

In fact, reporting from a red carpet is the physical equivalent of running a marathon— you stand there for nearly seven hours. The first three hours is pretty much a mind numbing waiting game but when the stars start to arrive, your adrenaline kicks in. You feel the surge as anyone famous comes into your periphery and then it becomes a battle of the journalists of who can snag which celebrity. There’s also the stars (eh-hem, Steve Buscemi and Naomi Watts) who will actively ignore your existence as a fellow human. Reporters are constantly screaming and if you’re placed next to some of the more aggressive photographers, you’ll be deaf by the end of the day.

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While stars wake up early on the days of an awards show and spend hours slipping into a dress that makes it impossible to go to the bathroom (basically, no one gets to pee during an an awards show), reporters attempt to apply makeup that won’t sweat off and only wear flat shoes. That’s how you spot a rookie – it’s the poor girl in heels, who will limping by the third hour. Some people wear Uggs or flip-flops. Some reporters go barefoot. It doesn’t matter because the stars can’t see below your waist cut to the fake hedges.

And then there are the questions. You’ve waited four hours, you’re tired, you’re starving, you’re trying to ignore your bladder and now it’s super important that you lob this question about filming nude scenes to Emmy Rossum. Sometimes your editor allows you to ask intelligent questions, but if it’s a bad one you get to shout things like “Jessica Chastain, what’s your favorite Instagram filter?” One reporter I know has been asking everyone about their bathroom habits during black tie events and actresses have gamely been discussing which celebrity they had to ask to hold up their massive dress in the restroom at the Met Ball. It’s all resulted in the recent movement #AskHerMore, which urges reporters to query women with more than just “Who are you wearing?”

Not that everyone is subjected to these questions: The big stars expertly show up just minutes before the big show begins. They breeze by quickly, like they’re too important for all this (which, to be fair, they probably are).

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If all this sounds like one massive complaint, it’s not. When you’re there, even when you’re being rained on or constantly being knocked in the by a rogue camera, you still get to peer behind the curtain and see the wizard. You get to see how much primping and artifice goes into the celebs’ appearances. You can’t imagine how much foundation is piled on those perfect faces so they’ll glisten on camera. And if you work the red carpet long enough, some of the stars start to remember who you are. Kit Harington and I are like old friends at this point, and LL Cool J recently gave me a kiss on the cheek.

Now awards season is almost over. The Oscars on Sunday are the final event, the culmination of two months of whirlwind red carpets and marathon events. I have my Chipotle order ready and I’m going to try not spill it on the very expensive gown I’ve borrowed. And if I’m still alive on Monday I’ll fill you in on Michael Keaton’s favorite Instagram filter.

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