Results tagged “beige” from GoFugYourself

October 29, 2009

True Fug

As I mentioned during Fashion Week, I have, like, a sympatico relationship with Lynn  "Top Hat" Collins here. She and I got caught up in a scrum together as reporters swarmed to attack Crazy Mickey Rourke (I was working, she was just trying to mind her own beeswax) and she totally shot me a, "this shit is CRAZY" look. We had a moment, is what I am saying. A moment in which we both were scared that the very appearance of Mickey Rourke would somehow accidentally lead to our being crushed to death together. So I am down with Lynn.

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And because we're now best friends, I feel free to ask her, is that a jumpsuit, or just a remarkably well-matched pants and shirt? And then, regardless of her answer, I feel free to make a supportive, but noncommittal, mmmm-hmmm and try and talk her into wearing something else.
 

September 25, 2009

Joy Fugant

Remember when you were a kid and on your birthday one of your friends would make you a card, and in that card would be a poem based on your name, in which each letter was transformed into an adjective about your AWESOMENESS? Like, mine would be:

Jerky
Erratic
Sassy
Slow-witted
Irrational
Crippled, emotionally
Awesome!

Don't ask me why, but there is something about Joy Bryant's outfit here that inspires me to similar poetic greatness:

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ODE TO CAFTAN:


Comfortable!
Awkward.
Flattering -- NOT! (Yes, I'm bringing "NOT!" back, along with making the W with your fingers for "WHATEVER." SOPHISTICATED HUMOR IN THE HOUSE.)
Tricky to pull off, unless you're at home eating Cheetos and trying not to burst into flames, as I currently am. I literally am wearing a caftan right now. BUT I'M AT HOME. (Don't tell anyone.)
Are those cowboy boots?
No thanks.

I totally should have gotten my MFA in poetry, right? I always thought so.

Listen. Who DOESN'T love Jane Krakowski? I mean, her work in The Rural Juror alone has given me hours of pleasure:



But I feel like if someone tried to dress her 30 Rock character in this dress, that person would be in for a world of completely ineffectual hurt:

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This both washes her out AND makes her look boxy. In other words, it's like she's wearing a recycled bulk mailer. Part of the problem is that J. Krak doesn't have much of a waist -- a debilitating and crippling condition I happen to share -- so she needs to wear a dress that helps create the illusion of one. AKA, not this one. The Rural Juror votes, GUILTY.

August 10, 2009

Fug.I. Joe

Even though Sienna has gone on a full-on charm assault during her press tours, I'm not completely on Team Miller. The whole Balthazar Getty thing -- all that willful frolicking, knowing they were being photographed -- was a little too gross for me. But I have to give credit where credit is due; shady taste in dudes and some tacky half-naked episodes on the prow of a boat don't change the fact that I find myself rather charmed by this:

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Would I prefer it wasn't quite such a dingy beige? Maybe. Then again, maybe not: It's not washing her out, thanks to that fancy-pants blood-red lipstick. All told Sienna emits an aura of being a darling bridesmaid from a Jane Austen wedding, presumably one in which there is a haughty groomsman who is infatuated with her sassy intellect and refusal to be impressed with his money, yet aggrieved by her lower social station and off-put by her grasping mother... and then suddenly their mutual lusty loathing turns to curiosity. WITH SEXY RESULTS. Okay, that last bit might be more in the vein of a Pride and Prejudice copycat bodice-ripper by, like, Jane Boston. But you get the gist. I dig it.
June 30, 2009

Fugloe Fugvigny

I am experiencing some serious fugja-vu here, courtesy of Chloe Sevigny:

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Aside from still having legs and a shoe closet to die for, Chloe apparently also has this ensemble in more than one shade of bland. Because you never know when you'll need TWO blazers with scalloped skirts that always catch in your crotch and either make people wonder if they're culottes or create unfortunate wrinkles that point right up your fun zone. I mean, it only makes sense: It's CLEARLY blasphemy to wear the ecru at night, so of course you'd keep one in your closet that's a more thrilling beige hue, or perhaps a daring latte-tinged flavor of khaki -- you know, a tan that really brings your new blood-orange colored lipstick and the kaleidoscope of sequins you've sewn to an old ballet leotard. I'm so pleased Chloe understands these kinds of nuances.

Jessica and I were just discussing poor Penelope Cruz's unfortunately timed food poisoning in Cannes, and how after being forced to skip one event because of it, we admire her for bucking up like a good little camper and making the rounds for her other movie. Even if her poker face is maybe not so great.

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[Photo: WENN.com]

I feel like this photo says, "I am trying so hard to smile, but oh, Lord, I might still be sick. I am wrapped in a giant ace bandage and if I don't hold onto this desk I am going to fall down and vomit all over the floor and that's why I didn't wear a necklace -- because they always flip forward when you're hanging over the toilet and you end up puking on your jewelry -- and someone had better give me a bonus for even being here today because I WANT TO DIE."

She didn't look like she felt much better at the nighttime event:

Apparently, according to the hilariously wise wizards over at Project Rungay, Malin Akerman's dress from the recent premiere of The Watchmen is one that Rami Kashou sent down the runway in February 2008 during the finale of his Project Runway season. And thank God they remembered that, because I had apparently blanked out his collection entirely, except for the fact that he used teal satin.

First, take a gander at the dress as it appeared on the catwalk:

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And here's how it translated on Malin:

"Hello. I'm Anne Hathaway:

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"Welcome to my one woman show! It's called Cream of Wheat: A Love Story, and it's about my life-long affair with warm breakfast cereals. This is my costume for Act I's closing number, a stirring song called 'Sowing My Quaker Oats' and -- oh, FINE. FINE. I JUST PICKED SOMETHING BLAND. IT HAPPENS. I'm not HAPPY about it. PLEASE don't take a picture of me next to Viola Davis. Have you SEEN HER?
I think I need a ruling on Amy Adams here. We need to take this play under review, as it were.  If I may stretch this metaphor: As a Fug coach, I am challenging this call (which reminds me: congrats to all members of the Steelers nation -- that was one heck of a game!), and you are the review team.

Here's the front:

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Eh. It probably is one of those that look better in person, right?  Sure, we'll give her that. It's possible. These things have happened before. There's no definitive proof that it DIDN'T look better in person, ergo, it's still too close to call. Let's see it from another angle:

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WHAT HAVE WE HERE? That's interesting! Or, depending on your taste, weird. Or possibly interestingly weird, or weirdly interesting. Me? I'm just the coach. But I think I like the back, but wish the whole thing was another color. Something less reminiscent of incredibly shiny oatmeal. But what do I know?

So, it's Friday, and I don't know about you, but all the current economic doom and gloom is about to give me an ulcer. When I woke up to NPR this morning, the first thing I heard -- LITERALLY, I am not making this up -- was someone yelping, "THE ECONOMY IS BROKEN." REALLY? I HAD NO IDEA. Thanks for that CONSTRUCTIVE TAKE ON THINGS. So yes: the economy is broken, we're all worried about our bank balances, it is stressing everyone out and rightly so. That being said, would it not be nice to take a moment and reflect on something delightful in these dark days? I nominate Dakota Fanning, who is growing up into the cutest teenager ever: I just love this:

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I want this. Sure, I'm twice her age, but I think I could pull it off. Maybe. But be that as it may, I think she looks mature but not tacky or trashy or overly-made up or trying too hard, without being boring. She just looks adorable and appropriate without being twee or super trendy or desperate for attention. Which is not unusual for her, actually:
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