Results tagged “carbs are your friends” from GoFugYourself

September 30, 2009

Stefugnie Pratt

Honey. We need to talk.

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That necklace is as big as your thigh, child. For the love of God, take a break from the show and get right with yourself. Write a book called Eat. Pants. Love. Then live its message.

July 6, 2009

Lady Fugtoria Fugley

Holy hell, woman.

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I'm not sure which idea is worse: that Lady Victoria Hervey might've shown up to Diddy's annual Fourth of July party wearing only a bikini, and simply got caught in the curtains on her way out of the ladies' room, or the notion that she paid money for a cut-to-there beach jumpsuit even American Apparel would dismiss as "laughably tacky, with a hint of WTF," and which was obviously hemmed by Yao Ming's tailor. I genuinely am not sure if she wants to hang out in a cabana somewhere, or re-wallpaper it.

May 20, 2009

Lady Fugtoria Hervey

Dear Lady Victoria Hervey:

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You know that old saying, "sometimes less is more"? Well, sometimes MORE is more. Little-known fact. In this instance, I can think of several things you could use more of, including sandwiches, fabric, and sunscreen.
May 12, 2009

Mean Fugs

Last night, I randomly caught Mean Girls on cable, and got sucked into watching pretty much the whole thing. What can I say? Regina George victimized me into watching, and then I got hypnotized by LiLo's pretty red hair and THEN got stuck on how much smaller her eyes looked when they had her wearing all that heavy black pencil around them -- you know, really important details that are totally worthy of lengthy scrutiny when I have a pile of about seven New Yorker magazines I could've been reading instead.

Anyway, for the eleventy-zillionth time, I was struck with just how unkind life -- or maybe more accurately, Lindsay herself -- has been to our girl since that movie.

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[Photo: FlynetOnline.com]

I mean, there's nothing THERE any more. She went from being a girl with a promising career and enough meat on her bones to be slender yet curvy, to being a brittle twig with no promising prospects who wears see-through Flashdance shirts with bikini tops, has my grandmother's hands, and clearly doesn't enjoy any of the finer things in life, like chewing food. Was it really worth it? Would she REALLY do it all over again -- the rehab, the dribbling out of clubs, the bad reputation -- just to fit into size 00 jeans? Someone really needs to sit her down Clockwork Orange-style and make her watch Mean Girls over and over again before we find out the hard way whether it's possible for a person to occupy negative space. I'd also recommend ditching the clogs, but whatever -- let's take baby steps here.



February 18, 2009

Fugly, Fugly Loaded

You guys, I'm worried that Lindsay is back on the sauce. Or something. Let's talk about what happened at Matthew Williamson's store opening party-thingy a few nights ago at Fashion Week. She showed up looking like this

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She looks great, right? Okay, a little zonked out, but otherwise pretty sexy and fabulous. Which is why I think she has to be back on the sweet yam yam, because otherwise NO ONE should have been able to change out of this, and into THIS:


January 15, 2009

Kate Fugworth

Somebody really, really needs to have a carefrontation with Kate Bosworth.

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They should start by educating her on the food pyramid; deviate into a well-illustrated seminar on why she ought not wear her hair that way ever again, because it seriously makes her look like a very wan alien; and close by noting that just because the notion of a dementor huddled over a sewing machine at night and trying to live out its secret passion for fashion is a romantic one, it doesn't mean it's advisable to look like you're wearing the fruits of its soulless labor.
November 17, 2008

Fug Lovers

I don't know if any of you have signed up for Gwyneth Paltrow's new lifestyle newsletters on her hideously named Web site, GOOP, but they are hilarious in ways that I do not think she intended them to be. They're all basically about how she is pretty sure she's really interesting and has a lot to teach -- Martha Stewart crossed with Oprah's Favorite Things, multiplied by that random friend you have who won't let you finish your stories before she tries to interrupt and one-up you with her more profound experiences. They come out every week, and tell us all about how to "nourish what is real" by eating non-dairy buckweat pancakes, staying slim (summary: do not eat anything white), clothing ourselves (save money by wearing your $1200 Louboutin shoes with a Topshop dress!), and buying "off the beaten track" kitchen stuff from... Williams-Sonoma.

The one about her wardrobe was the best, because it came with all these catalogue-style photographs of her wearing certain things and trying to do her best commercial poses, but usually it just looks like Gwynnie No. 1 is staring serenely down at Gwynnie No. 2, and pitying her slightly because No. 1 is wearing a YSL belt and tragique No. 2 is not. And yet, I ask you: Would you take wardrobe advice from a person who thought this looked good?

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About the only tips I'd take from a person in this dress would be for quick stain-removal. Now if you'll excuse me, staring at her collarbone is making me want to go make a giant sandwich out of everything white that's in my kitchen.

Trust me, I hate to beat the same drum over and over again, but the thing is, apparently I am a natural percussionist. So I am compelled to point out that as much as I love Cynthia Nixon, she looks way, way too skinny:

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I just want to yank this dress up, buy her a necklace, and hand her a plate of wienerschnitzel. But first I might need to borrow her purse.

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"Hello? Can someone out there help me? I am REALLY HUNGRY. Seriously. I gave up anything with texture about five months ago and now I look like Lara Flynn Boyle and I am STARVING and, seriously, if someone doesn't give me something to chew I am going to eat this carpet that is so very red, like rare steak... oh, sweet, delicious steak... No. NO, I have to snap out of this. Look, if you have ANYTHING in your purses, will you just toss it into my skirt? I'll catch it. I promise. Granola bars. A Kit-Kat. Even breath mints would be divine. I bet I can fit like three cheeseburgers in here -- plus this sucker is made of Quited Bounty, so it'll absorb all the grease. Please, someone. Anyone. Is ANYONE listening? Hello? HELLO?"
I don't really have the energy to continue trying to understand this woman -- why she's invited places over here, why she's so freaking skinny, and why I can't just ignore her.

But:

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I have three shouty things to say:

1) STOP TANNING.

2) START CHEWING.

3) FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, WHERE ARE YOUR BOOBS HERE?

That is all.

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