November 2004 Archives

LeeLee looks like she stole Peter Pan's formal wear:

Hi, y'all! I'm Britney Spears!

Y'all, Kevin and I went to the pet story to get Laci a little jacket because it's so cold out and I heard that this pet store in Malibu sold little "Rock Out With Your Cock Out" hats for dogs and I thought that might be cute too, you know, because that would match my fine hubby's hat and it's so cute when doggies match their daddies but when we got there there was just so much to choose from I just couldn't decide! I was so confused that all my hair just stood right up on top of my head, y'all!

What was I talking about again? Oh right. Y'all keep talking about how I look crummy when I leave the house but that is totally unfair y'all. Y'all, I am in love. I am married now! I am a married lady! This is how I look, for reals, y'all. I don't have to brush my hair for Kevin. I don't even have to take a shower for Kevin! He told me that I have to do is keep signing the checks...of LOVE. Y'all it is such a relief to not have to shower or brush my hair or wear make-up or make any kind of effort of any kind at all anymore. I am just so comfortable with Kevin and the baby we are making together, currently located in my uterus, which is also unwashed. Oops, did I say that? I guess I did it again. I just can't keep it secret! I can't wait to shop for clothing for little Kevney or Britven, y'all. Y'all, I would actually really like to have twins like Julia Roberts and name them Kevney Cheetos Federline and Britven Red Bull Federline and then Kevney Cheetos and Britven Red Bull and Kevvie and me and maybe my mom Lynne and maybe also my sister Jamie Lynn even though she hasn't called me back in like three weeks can all just live together here in my big house in Malibu with our dogs and also maybe with some of those kids Kevin has with that other lady and we can just sit around and watch movies and I can make a roast and my mother will wash our cars for us because she likes to do that and then I will never have to brush my hair again and no one will care because I will be a married lady with babies and that means I am a GROWN-UP and no one will make me dance with a snake ever ever again.

Except maybe for Justin. I might dance with a snake maybe if Justin asked but DON'T TELL ANYONE I SAID THAT.

LOVE,

BRITNEY!

I think Gwen Stefani has maybe lost her mind a little bit:

She doesn't look like she's cleverly interpreting Japanese baby-doll fashion, which I believe was her intent. Yes, she's performing on-stage, but... where are the three rings? Where's the Big Top? Where's the ringmaster? She looks like she belongs on a tightrope, or standing on the back of a white horse with a feather sticking out of the crown atop her head -- or pinned to a target while a man in tights and a handlebar mustache hurls knives at her giggling body.

What is it, Gwen? Why the weird? Is it the stress of your solo album? The heady drunk power of having your own fashion line? The strange, all-consuming curiosity about your real-life quasi-"Billie Jean" scenario, and whether your husband knew that the kid was his daughter, and just didn't tell you?

Whatever it is, we hope you pull through it. Go get a massage or something. Get a facial. Then return to your closet and put a little sanity back into the clothes. This Minnie Mouse-meets-"Alice In Wonderland"-meets-Hooker Circus thing isn't really working.

Oh, Dan Ackroyd. I love you forever for Ghostbusters alone. That scene where you slide down the pole in the firehouse? Adorable. But this outfit requires vaporization. We might might even have to cross the streams:

[Photo by Dave Allocca/Startraks]

What are you doing? The frighteningly tight black jeans -- do they even make black jeans anymore? -- with the vest? A vest? Really? With the tie? And the shiny shiny leather jacket? And the baseball hat? And the sunglasses? At night? So you can see better? Or is it because your future is so bright, etc, etc? This saddens me.

I really think that the rest of the suit that your vest came with might have been a better call. Or jeans that fit. Or, you know, your Ghostbusters jumpsuit. Whichever.

Ladies and gentleman, I present to you the former Mrs Macauley Culkin, Rachel Miner:

[Photo courtesy of Daily Celeb]

GFY: Ms Miner, who are you wearing?

RM: My entire ensemble is courtesy of the Whore Store. Isn't it swell?

GFY: It's...short. And the shoes are...tall. Yes. Can we talk about your eyebrows?

RM: They were inspired by that season of 90210 when Kelly was in the cult and also had no eyebrows at all. Remember when no one had any brows? I long for a return to that aesthetic. Don't you love how it makes me look all pinchy and weird?

GFY: Well...um, sure. Yes. Very pinchy. Very...interesting. Well....done.

RM: I am really cold, though. Can I wear your coat?

Oh, Steve Urkel. What would Stephan UrKel say?

[Photo courtesy of You Can't Make It Up.]

Darling, pants that tight are bad for your boy parts. And let us not even speak of the well-pressed jeans tucked into the boots. No! No, hush! I said not to speak of it. It's simply too horrible to contemplate.

It is a point of controversy whether this is, in fact, Jaleel White. Controversy aside, I choose to believe that it is. And that he can't sit down in those pants.

It's too bad she didn't have this dress at Halloween, because Courtney Peldon could have gone as a broken bottle of Pepto Bismol:

Hey, Courtney, nice move with the massive cutout in your dress -- that bra endorsement deal will come through in no time. Unless it's not deliberate, and in fact the fashion police really did show up on the red carpet and attempt a violent arrest. But, no, sadly, this getup smacks of carefully wanton exhibitionism, so we're going to have to wait another day for Officer HolyGodWeDon'tWantToSeeUpYourWomanPocket to whip out his truncheon and sic the attack dogs.

What could be better than a Peldon fug?

A Peldon-Ling extravaganza:

[Both photos courtesy of Daily Celeb.]

Courtney's hole has gone from being a careful side-skimming affair to being an escape hatch for her right breast. She is probably so excited and aroused by the fugocity of Bai Ling's hot pants, yellow heels, and electric blue legwarmers that she can't keep the ladies in check. Her breasts are clearly lesbians.... Or fugbians.

The Fug Girls would like to apologize to those who felt we were picking on Daryl Hannah.

We weren't picking on her for being old; we were picking on her for having a neck that celebrates Arbor Day, and yet ceasing to tie a yellow ribbon 'round the old oak tree, if you get the drift. It's an important clarification and we needed to make it.

To thine own form be true, Daryl. We don't think YOU are fugly; if your neck is disappearing, or if we just never noticed its condition before because you were accessorizing it better, thenjust wear your hair down or pick out a dress that comes with a jaunty wrap. Concealing is healing... or something.

When did Daryl Hannah get a neck like a football player?


[Photo courtesy of Daily Celeb.]

I always think of her as a willowy sort, but here, it looks like she's been working out with the Raiders or something. For confirmation I checked other camera angles, and they indicated the same thing: that she's got a tree-trunk on her shoulders.

Odd, because 'twas not always thus. Whither the mermaid, Daryl? Whither?!?

The sad thing is, she looks so happy about it.

Helen Slater, what happened to you? Nothing on this outfit even comes close to matching! The blouse matches the blazer well enough, but the skirt....doesn't. Worse still, none of it appears to fit. And the weird-length of that skirt, paired with white socks [!] and...black oxfords? Are you the Ugly Elaine Benes of 1994? This shoe/skirt paring makes it look like you have no legs at all! The cut of the skirt...and the shirt...and, my God, the jacket...totally conceal your figure. Have you gotten fat? We don't know. Are you slender? No idea. Have you grown a third boob? Couldn't say.

Remember those toys they had when we were kids, where you could make "fashion drawings" by choosing a model's head, a waist to neck section, and then a waist to feet section, and you could turn it all into one outfit by plugging these sections into this little frame-thing and then you'd tranfer your creation to paper by rubbing a black crayon over it, and you'd color it in? Sometimes I would try to make THE UGLIEST OUTFIT POSSIBLE on this toy, and I think Helen Slater is actually wearing it.

This just in!

Photo Courtesy of Daily Celeb.

Ashley Peldon, sister of Courtney Peldon, has retired from her career of... um, you know, whatever it is she actually does... and has reimaged herself as a deranged Foot Locker employee, mid-rampage, or, perhaps, as sexy referee, except without the "sexy" and with more of the, "Oh my God, that's not a good look for you. Or anyone. Ever. Seriously, put on my coat."

What sort of penalties does one call as a sexy referee, I wonder? "Roughing the scrotum"? "Unnecessary use of tongue"? "Ineligible receiver"? Regardless, I call a time out.

Can we talk about Anthony Kiedis for a sec?

Photo courtesy of Daily Celeb.

Why is he wearing my hair from 1991?

Bijou Phillips attended Clive Davis's AMA party with her brother, Austin.

[Photo courtest of Daily Celeb.]

Austin is apparently not only Bijou's date for the evening, he is her handler and the guy who holds her upright while looking mortified. He then hands out cash to anyone Bijou may have attempted to beat with her handbag.

It is so hard to decide what I love most about Bijou's look. Her wide-open mouth, complete with chaw of gum? Her black eye? Her visible bra strap? Or her seafoam green ruffled mini-dress, which appears to be made of terry cloth and resembles nothing so much as the stool for a vanity table, in Palm Beach circa 1973?

This just in: Nicollette Sheridan has actually been transformed into a Barbie doll.

Note the telltale sheen between her preternaturally perky and unmoving breasts! The overly-lined eyes! The long, plastic blonde hair! The frozen facial muscles! The By Bob Mackie For Mattel dress! Frankly, it's all just a bit unseemly and embarassing.

Nicolette, we need to talk. Listen, lady, I hate to break it to you, but you're the least interesting part of an ensemble cast. Desperate Housewives' success depends not at all on the efforts of the first Mrs. Harry Hamlin. (Or the second Mrs Harry Hamlin, thank goodness. Or even Harry Hamlin.) You see, my dear, I know Marcia Cross, and you, Nicolette Sheridan, are no Marcia Cross. So, for the love of humanity and the corneal safety of this great land, please, please, please put your saline fun bags away and stop prancing around as though you are the second coming of Dr Kimberly Shaw, because the truth is that you are not, and also? You are seriously going to put someone's eye out with those things and that's going to be a bitch to clean up.

I am seriously in love with Crazy Courtney Love and I hope she never dies. I mean, honestly, the woman is (ostensibly) OFF drugs and yet look at what she's doing with her hair:

[Photo courtesy of Daily Celeb.]

Is it me, or is that an actual bird's nest? I expect her to burst into a round of "Feed The Birds."

[Photo courtesy of Daily Celeb.]

This poor child. I feel like Melora Hardin has a responsibility to that kid that she's neglecting -- specifically, that until it has popped out, it by necessity is wearing what she is wearing; therefore she ought not willfullly choose to dress both the fetus and herself like a Las Vegas banister adornment. I think I actually saw her glued atop a stairwell at the Aladdin Hotel & Casino.

Unfair. At least wait until the kid can pop out and defend itself against such tyranny.

Okay, so I don't know who Tara Jane is, but somehow she got invited to the US Weekly Holiday Shopping Hoedown, or whatever it was called, and she decided to go in shorts:

[Photo courtesy of Daily Celeb.]

I know it's Los Angeles, but it's also November and it gets cold at night and also why are you wearing SHORTS to an EVENT where there will be PHOTOGRAPHERS? Moreover, why are you wearing shorts that you bought in 1989 at the Wet Seal in the Montclair Plaza?

And why -- dear God, please tell me why -- why are you wearing them with flat-heeled black boots that may or may not be of the Ugg family?

Oh, and also? The bomber jacket? In fabric printed with planets and constellations? A jacket deemed too nerdy to be stocked at the Discovery Store? With those boots? And the shorts? Did I mention the shorts?

THEY'RE NOT EVEN FORMAL SHORTS, NOT THAT THAT WOULD MAKE IT ANY BETTER, REALLY, BUT STILL.

I know I say it a lot, but I really do need to lay down this time.

Can we talk about Jason Davis for a sec?

[Photo courtesy of Daily Celeb.]

The New York Post called him "bulky," which is, I believe, the new "husky." They don't mention that he appears to have made a coat of Fozzie Bear, which is surely against truth, justice and the American way.

Apparently, and deliciously, Jason "Brother of Oily Bohunk and Mischa Barton Lover Brandon Davis" Davis is the current paramour of Go Fug Yourself's Queen Bee: Courtney Peldon. Can you imagine the wedding those two would have? The ginormous fur puffers on the men? The sliced-to-the-crotch, slit-to-the-navel wedding gown? Bridesmaid Mischa Barton kitted out in something that resembles a shredded tarp?

Please God. Please let Jason Davis and Courtney Peldon get married. Please, please. She would be really happy with all of his money. He would be really happy with all of her...all of her. And I would die happy from all of the delectable fug.

We hate to admit it, but we're becoming sort of relieved that Courtney Peldon is continuing her streak of baffling and omnipresent celebrity without the accompanying fame and regular work, because it means we don't have to watch her practice any craft but the art of fuggery:

Enjoy the pink bra she's wearing under that translucent blue tank top; revel in the alternately tight and billowy skirt-pants -- clingy where it counts (hello, budding camel-toe!), loose everywhere else.

And it's always good to accentuate Things In Which One Might Do Yoga with bejewelled shoes.

Bridget Moynihan's new haircut makes her virtually unrecognizable:

So harsh. So severe. So hell-bent on accentuating the pointy. Why, Bridget? Why? And has dating a football player resulted in you having the neck of a linebacker, or was that always the case and we just never noticed?

That same "Why, oh why?" question could be posed with regard to the satin pajamas she is wearing. They're very Dinner and Dancing at the Palm Beach Yacht Club With The Bridge Ladies.

"Hi guys, I'm Kirsten Dunst!

[Photo courtesy of Daily Celeb.]

"Check it out! I am so tickled that I actually made it out of the house like this! I really thought Consuela, my housekeeper, was going to tackle me on the lawn and force me to change, the way she did before the Spiderman II premiere, when I wanted to go wearing this really cute little barrel I salvaged from the dumpster behind Primarily Pickles, but I managed to avoid her this time.

"So, I guess you guys have probably heard that Jake and I broke up, and then got back together and then broke up again and then totally made out in front of Jerry's Deli for like an hour yesterday? Yeah, well, what better way to make sure that he like really, really, really wants me back and like totally feels totally terrible about dumping me than showing up at an event looking totally smoking hot? And what is more totally smoking hot than this black turtleneck that I got at Banana last week layered under a fancy, fancy pinafore? NOTHING. I wish my slip wasn't showing, though. And I sort of wish it wasn't made out of burlap. But what are you gonna do, right? Am I right, girls?

"WATCH OUT, JAKE. Get ready for HURRICANE KIRSTEN!

"Tee hee. I can't wait to see him. He is going to be ALL OVER ME.

Katie Couric, modeling the latest from the hot designer My Grandmother's Kitchen Tablecloth:

Nice posture, Perky.

In the past, Ms. Brittany Murphy has certainly been subject to our scrutiny. True, her heyday of emaciation and frightening fug mostly took place before this site existed, but she's always been one of those people whose messy bleach job and bony frame had her atop many people's "Celebrities Who Will Not Live Out The Year" lists.

We're happy to say that she now looks a lot healthier:

[Photo courtesy of Daily Celeb.]

There's something about brunettes this year. Reese Witherspoon did it and looked resplendant at the premieres she attended. Ashlee Simpson did it, and her dishwater hair will hopefully never return. Nicky Hilton sparkles more with dark hair than she did as a Paris clone.

And now Brittany Murphy joins their ranks, and it flatters her. The color makes her skin look creamy and gleaming, without the pallor that sometimes reflects off of dark roots, overly fried blonde hair, and an aversion to carbs, or indeed, any nourishment at all. She's slim but she doesn't look as breakable as she once did; she's toned down her clothes to a more classy selection -- which she admittedly had been doing before the color change, but the hair pushed her over the top for this unfugging -- and she doesn't look strung out and scary.

Okay, so the top sort of makes her breasts look like little tumors. But we'll give it to her, because hey, she's still alive. Rock on, Brittany, and please, continue to eat. You can afford it and it will only make you rosier and further from the depths of fug.

Didn't Taryn Manning get the memo?

[Photo courtesy of Daily Celeb.]

No one is wearing their kitchen curtains in public anymore! And certainly not with a ratty old fur. This particular Fug Girl doesn't have an ethical problem with wearing fur, theoretically -- in fact, she wore a vintage fur this weekend -- but it seems like one should do ones best to make sure that ones fur does not appear to have spend most of its life balled up under Grandma Mimma's spare bed down in Broward County. If a furry little creature had to die for your coat, at least make sure the poor thing leaves a good-looking corpse.

I wish I knew what to say about the shoes. The scrunchy, white, BeDazzled boots. She looks like she wrapped her ankles in Bounty paper towels. Let's never speak of them again.

The woman who gave us Sarah Jessica Parker in knickers, newsboy caps and short shorts with knee socks looks simply divine at a recent event.

The visible gaping belly button? Adorable! The leather bra? So appropriate. The fedora? Delicious. The... is she wearing gloves? She must be. Delectable. The skirt -- last seen covering a light bulb in a whorehouse? Shiny!

My mother taught me that, after a certain age, one must give up the trappings of one's youth, so as not to look like mutton dressed as lamb, as they say. At this point, Patricia Field is looking like beef jerky dressed as veal, if you'll pardon the stretched metaphor.

I know that P. Diddy's birthday parties tend to have unusual dress codes, but given all the other photos I've seen, it was definitely not in any way necessary for Mariah Carey to show up in a wedding dress:

Somebody has a Princess Diana complex.

There are lots of white dresses out there. Indeed, there are lots of colorful dresses with fur accoutrements, which is what a lot of other party guests wore. So why Mariah went to David's Bridal and picked out a marshmallow fantasy frock is quite beyond me.

Although when you're famous, I guess you never know when a wedding might break out, so I suppose it makes sense to come prepared.

Did Mischa Barton's ankles misbehave? They must have aggrieved or otherwise embarrassed her in some way. How else to explain the fact that she's shackling them with her ankle straps and then making them suffer through tapered pants that bunch up at the foot and tuck into part of her shoe?

I'm also wondering why her grandmother's best beaded cardigan is making a cropped and ill-fitting appearance around her shoulders. The damn thing looks like a mortuary's powder-room curtains.

Serena Williams turned up in this at the premiere of After The Sunset:

Honey, after the sunset, your nipples are still going to be completely visible through a sheer dress. Sorry. Oh, and you left your headlights on "bright."

Really, why bother to wear a top at all? Just go for it. Let Lil' Kim be your guide, if that's where you're headed with this. Don't half-ass it if you're intent on whole-racking it.

"I'm not really sure how I got here -- how the name 'Ethan Hawke' became synonymous with 'Wisconsin farmer' -- but I guess it's because Uma dumped me, killing like a tractor on a farmhand's belly any semblance of goodwill America had left for me after my horribly pretentious books and Taking Lives.

"Oh, sure, I'm sleeping with Julie Delpy now that After Sunset did well, so I can ride that train of compliments as far as possible. But generally I'd rather be back on top of the Uma... uh, I mean world... without people glaring at me for cheating on fucking Mrs. Perfect over there. But at least I'm going to get another really important book out of this. It's going to be about a trouble young boy whose fucking smarty-pants Gigantor wife was so fucking smart and shit, and so he slept with ONE MEASLY PERSON who wasn't so goddamn Mensa-eligible, and suddenly he's out on the street advertising for John Deere. Yeah, it's going to be awesome. I'M SO GODDAMN HAPPY. REALLY."

This dress is nice, albeit in a very Lil' Kim Goes To The Oscars kind of way. But my chief concern is that we are a light breeze -- or a sneeze -- away from learning just how good Jada's bikini waxer is. And dresses with a public pubic element to them never really float my love boat.

Cute girl, weird choices. She's got a strange psychedelic dress with assorted waist-level hoo-ha, and she's got what look like gold animal-print shoes. It's a small thing, but a perplexing one; if you have a dress this busy, aren't black shoes a solid choice that won't draw away the eye from how your hot bod looks in a tight dress?

Cosmo patron saint and elderly sexpert Helen Gurley Brown has apparently decided that the smartest, sexiest thing she could possibly wear to an event is a gold lame pantsuit with parachute pants.

Oy. She looks like the love child of MC Hammer and an Oscar statuette.

Helen, sexy single girls...don't wear this sort of thing.

Duffman on The Simpsons had better guard his nickname -- he's getting some serious competition for it from Haylie, a.k.a. The Unfortunate And Unfortunately Mannish Duff Sister. She just reeks of "off-duty drag queen" to me. And also probably of Britney Spears' "Curious."

I really wish she'd start wearing colors that didn't all distract the eye in a million directions. Just check the fugculus (fug + calculus) of her ensemble: White sweater + champagne shirt + orange/red necklace + green shoes + black bag = Color scheme of a child's finger-painting accident.