This Jeff Bezos & Lauren Sánchez Bezos Wedding is So, So, So Fucking Dumb

I'm disgusted.

#ThotNaysh, is that the most eloquent title? No! But what I really wanted the byline to be was: The Mere Sight of This Dusty Ass Mr. Clean Motherfucker and His Grifter Ass/Faux Climate Change Activist Wife Makes Me and Greta Thunberg Wanna Crash This Trifling Wedding and Beat Some Billionaire Ass. Ya know what? That title is perfect cuz look at the world. Every day, scientists tell us to make some changes because we’re turning Earth into an oven that’s been set to “burn our asses into a crisp like a bag of chicharrones.” And this weekend, more than NINETY private jets carrying hundreds of the world's wealthiest people were flown to Venice. I repeat: NINETY PLUS PRIVATE JETS!!! These people emitted more carbon than 27,300 cars do in a day. A. DAY. Yet, we’re out here switching to LED light bulbs, washing our laundry in cold water like housewives from the 1800s, and drinking outta paper straws that disintegrate in 2.2 seconds, so ya damn skippy I’m throwing my hair in a ponytail, putting Vaseline on my cheeks, and ready to knuckle if you buck with all these fools because we’re being gaslit!

Just look at this photo. The arrogance. The entitlement. The disrespect. The lack of accountability. The self-satisfied jubilation over being so utterly wasteful and indulgent. The obvious joyful disdain for the have nots. The obscene budget. Every single thing about this wedding is vomit inducing, gauche, and embodies the phrase “Eat the Rich.” Like we all deserve a nib-nib for suffering the indignity of having to live in a world with these harmful, ruinous, and greed-filled human beings.

But on second thought, we are what we eat, so perhaps we should hold off on chowing down out of fear of the stupidity being transferred to us. Seriously, absolutely everything about this wedding is mind numbingly idiotic. Everyone riding around in yachts like Bond villains. These celebrities gleefully waving to people and cameras, pretending that this wedding hadn’t been plagued with several protests to the point that the wedding venue had to change. Even this invite is a meditation in abject buffoonery:

What in the Microsoft clip art is this bullshit? Y’all spent over $50 million on a three day extravaganza, wearing Dolce and Gabbana couture, but you decided to cut corners on the invite? Did Paperless Post block you from using their website? Is this why their wedding invite looks like something an intern whipped up in Canva while taking a dump? Jeff and Lauren prove the old adage: just because you have money does not mean you have taste. It means you have access. Just take a look at Vogue’s digital cover with Lauren Sánchez Bezos:

Right now, André Leon Talley, in his [hella thicc French accent] Louis Vuitton caftan, is probably doing barrel rolls in his grave over this cover. And Anna Wintour, who announced she is stepping down from her storied thirty-seven year career as the Editor-In-Chief of Vogue, choosing Lauren as the June 2025 digital cover star before deactivating her Slack account is very much giving “I’m tired of this funky ass job, fuck all y’all, and don’t K.I.T.” Look, clearly there’s nothing wrong with this Dolce & Gabbana wedding dress. It’s beautiful, well tailored, and yet. Something’s off. The cover feels as the Brits like to say, “a bit worthy.” In other words, trying too hard. Lauren has always been a bit of a social climber and this cover reeks of “I got in the ‘right’ circles to get the ‘right’ access to things I have not and could never earn through merit, but I can buy, and so by accumulating these signifiers of class and taste, that then means I have class and taste.” Not so fast.

In fashion circles, being on the cover of Vogue can feel like a coronation of sorts. Can be a driver of culture to make the wheels of capitalism go ‘round. But if you think being on the cover of Vogue means that taste and elegance have automatically been transferred to you like college credits from University of Phoenix being transferred to a more “respected” college (lol, not University of Phoenix catching strays) then I have to quote my girl Carrie Bradshaw from Sex and the City 2 movie:

Gatekeepers like Vogue are not the arbiters of taste. Not really. And I’m saying this as a fashion girlie who has been reading the magazine since college, loves mixing high and low fashion, and sees every photo shoot I do for work as an opportunity for self-expression and celebrity how wonderful fashion can truly be as I did for this 2020 Marie Claire profile on me.

Like wearing this Valentino dress inside the Russian Tea Room does not make me fabulous. Or more special. Or have taste. I possessed all those qualities before I hoisted what little cocoa titties I have up inside that couture gown because that’s who I am internally. The reality is taste is an inside job, not something you try to convince others you possess. Not something you elbow your way into getting. If anything, landing the cover of Vogue because Lauren had enough zeroes in her bank account only puts her more under an microscope and show that regardless of how much she may have practiced bridal poses in the mirror in order to look the part of a princess and how much she has leveled up into “high society,” she is still the Lauren Wendy Sánchez before the Bezos of it all. The glaring emptiness of it all now has a bigger spotlight. It’s like my dear friend Wanyi likes to say: “Everywhere you go, there you are.” No matter the dizzying heights one reaches, they cannot escape themselves. So, despite the trappings of pomp and circumstance, it’s abundantly clear taste alludes Jeff and Lauren because they never had it to begin with, which explains how we ended up with this cover, and more importantly, that tacky invite. I didn’t forget about it. How could I?!

Not that I needed them to have an invite made out of diamonds and pearls, but shit like this burns my toast about some wealthy people. Like the second they have to do something not reliant on spending copious amounts of money or using a designer label to “signify taste,” they show just how uninventive and absent of thought they truly are unless the thought is about how to accumulate more wealth, of course.

And that’s one of the things that irritates me the most: that these hoarders of wealth and resources are so woefully tacky, so demoralizing vacant, so completely absent of a point of view yet they’re the ones holding the keys to the castle. And they holding them because, as their self-mythology would have it explained, they’re smart and worked hard enough to earn their success (no matter how morally bankrupt it is) when they are shockingly hollow human beings lacking a single original thought that is not dredged in a self-serving ulterior motive. That when they slip up, as they always inevitably do like with this horror show invite, and reveal their lack of creativity and intellect, I can’t help but wonder about all the talents that go unrecognized in world built to obfuscate and subjugate in service of propping up the select few. Just how different this world would be if those who indeed do have taste, a distinct point of view, are wildly inventive, and are concerned with the state of humanity were in charge. And, yes, I know that’s a lot to extrapolate from a piece of shit invitation, but often, things are other springboards for bigger ideas and this invite is no different. Speaking of which, let’s get back to it!

This abomination has shooting stars, a bird flying around with a quill pen made out of a feather of another bird, a lone dragonfly, a gondola, and are basically telling guests that their presence is helping Venice. HELPING VENICE?! Riiiiight. The lovely city of Venice is sinking lower than an auntie at a cookout dropping it to Keith Sweat’s “Nobody” who doesn’t have the knee or core strength to stand back up, but sure, the presence of Bill Gates in a bland ass Brooks Brothers suit or whatever the fuck he was wearing is undoubtedly helping Venice defy gravity. #InsertCynthiaErivoAsElephabaAndHerBattleCry.

And if I’m being honest, that’s probably what I’m taking umbrage over the most. The delusion that these people have about themselves. That while they’re actively destroying the planet and the lives of those around them with carbon emissions, abusive work environments, hoarding of resources, bullshit mastubatory philanthropic “efforts” (Sánchez Bezos is a “climate change advocate” and the Vice Chair of the Bezos Earth Fund), etc., they still see themselves as the heroes whose birthright is to act this way. That to do something other be self-serving would be antithetical to everything that is right in this world.

As the US government nose dives into idiocracy and dehumanization, these celebrities get to laugh, tucked away in their billionaire and multi-millionaire cocoons that protect them from effects of the tragedies they either helped create, refuse to destroy, or both. At times, it’s heartbreaking and feels oh, so damn dumb. Like it’s all a waste. Being a good person, paying taxes, learning the Pythagorean Theorem, building a little life, having hobbies, trying to do some good, falling in love, eat amazing food, getting really fucking good at karaoke, raising kids, only to live in the same timeline as these clowns.

And then we take a breath. And then another one. And another one and yet another and remind ourselves that nihilism and allowing ourselves to be crushed under the weight the haves are putting on us is what they want. Well, I don’t want that. I don’t want us to give up or be bitter or think there is no way to turn this ship around. And seeing the groundswell of backlash over the ostentatiousness of this wedding is a comforting reminder that we aren’t going to take this lying down. We are going to speak up. Make some noise. Call them out. And they can insulate themselves as much as they want. No one is impervious to being chastised and feeling embarrassed. So, let’s keep doing is applying pressure and naming names, so that it’s harder for them to hide. Like when rumors swirled about the wedding guest list, I channeled my inner Real Housewives of Beverly Hills’ Sutton Strake:

THE LIST OF CELEBRITIES WHO ATTENDED JEFF & LÁUREN SANCHEZ BEZOS WEDDING:

Oprah (You spoke at former Vice President and Democratic nominee for President Kamala Harris’ DNC convention TEN MONTHS ago and now you’re at the wedding of a man who donated $1 MILLION to Tr*mp’s inaugural fund?! Harriet Tubman ain’t do everything she did, for you to do this?!?!)

Gayle King (Still waiting for you to tell us the results from all your “findings and research” when you went to space for three minutes. Lmaooooo.)

Director Darren Aronofsky (Haven’t watched one of your movies in twenty-fives years. Feels like that was a good call.)

CEO of Kering François-Henri Pinault (Salma Hayek, throw a chancleta at your husband and tell him to get his shit together!)

Bill Gates (Already mentioned his stupid ass earlier.)

Jewel (Girl, I stan’d hard for you are when you turned one of your songs into a jingle for Schick’s Intuition razor commercials. I was a gahtdamn fool for doing that, apparently.)

Sydney Sweeney (I mean, she’s selling body soap with droplets of her bathwater in it, so her common sense ctrl + alt + del itself a while ago.)

Queen Rania of Jordan (Girl, I know they’re your friends - eyeroll - but you are the queen of a country. Aren’t you busy? You 100% could have skipped this and sent a text to group chain twelve minutes before the nuptials began: “Sorry I missed this text invite. Wish I could be there! Congratulations! LYLAS, Raina.”) For the uninitiated, LYLAS means “love you like a sister.”

Orlando Bloom (I can’t believe I once wanted you to go Downton on my Abbey aka go down on my vajeen while you wore your The Lord of the Rings Elven ears.)

Ellie Goulding (Kind of surprised you got an invite. Def giving third tier guest invite, but it’s an honor to be included. 🙄)

Karlie Kloss (Pass! Truly not worth the effort to write anything about her.)

Jared Kushner and Ivanka Trump (Literal pieces of dog excrement deep baked into a bowl of refried beans with expired Pace picante sauce on top.)

Kris Jenner and Corey Gamble (Their relationship has always given me Lakeith Stanfield and that old white lady couple in Get Out, so middle fingers to them both.)

Kendall and Kylie Jenner (Radioactive trash.)

Khloé Kardashian (Non-biodegradable trash.)

Kim Kardashian (Municipal solid waste.)

Usher (To quote Tyra Banks, “We were rooting for you. We were ALL rooting for you.)

Tom Brady (I mean, obviously, his was gonna be here.)

Diane von Fürstenberg (You may be the queen of wrap dresses, but it’s a WRAP on you. Lol. Not my finest work, but I’m tired.)

Leonardo DiCaprio:

L.O.L. Bitch, we know it’s you!! What the fuck do you think this hat covering your face is doing? Oh, are you embarrassed? Your skin feeling a little hot under your collar cuz you don’t want us to see you for the person you’ve always been? Good! And I know this is petty, but I feel vindicated! When Titanic came out and all my classmates wanted to smash DiCap in a fogged up Coupe de Ville, I was like, “I don’t see it. He’s not hot.” It’s as if my spirit knew he was a raggedy bitch and it was only a matter a time before we all saw that.

Because everywhere all of these people go, there they are.