March 2005 Archives

Dear Readers,

First of all, thank you for your readership. Your support has meant so much to us since we started GFY. We've had a lot of fun, and we've learned so much in the last several months.

That being said, we've thought about it a lot and we decided we'd like to take our personal project in a different direction going forward.

Please check it out.

Cheers!

Heather and Jessica

I love pants. And some people really need to consider wearing them:

[Photo courtesy of Lime-light.org.]

Nicolette, even if you are on a beach vacation, if you are walking through town then you should wear SOME form of bottoms. I'm not asking for cute, or matchy. Just coverage when you are not on the beach. Come on, lady. You're great on your show. Buy a skirt.

And yet some people deploy pants carelessly. Too carelessly.

[Photo courtesy of Daily Celeb.]

Sigh. A dress over jeans? I thought we were over this, Kim Director, Random Starlet With Cute Little Industry-Appropriate Surname. I thought we were done making jokes about whether the person hadn't shaved in two weeks, or cracking wise about a waxing accident. I thought we were through speculating what the point is of wearing a frock over pants, especially one so long that it would make a perfectly sexy dress if worn on its own with some hot shoes.

[We haven't really debated why the world needs a discount version of Debi Mazar, but then again, maybe the world doesn't, and that's why most people haven't heard of Kim Director just yet.]

Who told Rachel Bilson she looked cute in this? Was it Mischa? It must have been Mischa. Rachel: NEVER LISTEN TO MISCHA. Her boyfriend is a walking flake of dandruff.

I wish this were a better shot of the full outfit, but even at this angle, I can tell that it's bringing me pain. Each piece looks like she stole it from a costume department: that white thing would seem to be petticoat-esque, as if it's never actually supposed to see the light of day because Dr. Quinn's best surgical dress always goes over it, and that vest feels like Pa Ingalls would be fixin' for a tantrum if he found out she'd ganked it from his trunk. It's four sizes too big.

Don't dress like a dumpster-diver, Rachel. You're too cute for that. And it's not like shirts at Forever 21 cost more than twelve dollars -- splurge a little, okay? If you need help, give us a ring.

But don't call Mischa.

Ashanti has no faith in her appeal to Star Wars devotees. If she did, she never would have risked going out in public wearing the skin of an Ewok:

This coat looks like a muppet is trying to cop a feel.

I like to eat meringues. I don't love to see dresses made in their image.

The bottom part looks like it's inflatable, but that she got bored mid-puff and bolted for the red carpet. Somebody please pop it.

Word hit the wires today that a longtime source of GFY bafflement, alleged actress Bai Ling (okay, we know she's been in stuff, but still -- Sky Captain blew), will be posing for Playboy.

According to the linked blurb, Ms. Ling has said she was "shocked" by the idea but that she is willing to make "sacrifices for the sake of art."

And so we ask: What, exactly, is she sacrificing?

Certainly not the the zeal with which she guards her breasts' privacy. Certainly not modesty. Indeed, certainly not terribly many clothes.

Perhaps she's just concerned about forsaking her right to wear a satin potato sack. Either way, Playboy isn't going to do much that a stiff breeze probably hasn't already achieved.

Michael Madsen is really cleaning up good, don't you think?

You know, if he's cleaning up for a round of Busey Or [Insert Bloated, Strung-Out Actor Here].

I think La Stefani needs her own category, don't you?

She looks like a deranged showgirl, sneaking out the stage door after her performance in the widely panned Evita: The Hot Pants Years.

Nothing like a sartorial tribute to Gladiators:

[Photo courtesy of Daily Celeb.]

But the dress itself -- whose merits in my eyes are few, but at least it doesn't make her look psychotic/naked/homeless -- pales in comparison to her hair, which looks like she was corraled by a particularly effective Fuller Brush salesman on her way to the event. If you turn her upside down, you can use her to scrub those hard-to-reach places, like under the refrigerator.

Andie MacDowell needs to install a warning beeper on her torso. That way, if she accidentally leaves her headlights on, she will be warned:

[Photo courtesy of Daily Celeb.]

Ignoring the humor of her askew nipples, which could be nature or could be the unique nurture of a shitty plastic surgeon: Does she just have particularly bumpy areolae, or are the twins taking a steely stand despite already sporting a pair of those paste-on flowers that are supposed to treat and prevent Nippleitis? In the case of the former: No bra equals no satin. Period. And in the case of the latter... well, ditto; perhaps she should have a blanket stand against this unforgiving fabric. Because, really, I don't know her life. So I certainly don't need to know the contours of her mammaries.

Bijou Philips is in character for her leading role in the new film, There's Something About That Snotty Adolescent Who Works Down at the DQ Who's Always Chomping Her Gum And If I Find Some Gum in My Blizzard, I Am Going to Call The Manager, Which I Really Ought To Do Anyway, Because Her Attitude Is Just Not Acceptable:

Here's the thing. We here at Go Fug Yourself are SO PLEASED by how good Brittany Murphy looks....from the neck up. She's abandoned  the unfortunate blonde look in favor of her own naturally brunette locks.  She looks so much prettier with the new hair -- and the couple of extra pounds she's added helps. She's certainly still slim, but she looks healthy and happy.

But. The outfit.

[Photo courtesy of Daily Celeb]

Tai, Tai, Tai! What would Cher say? I imagine it would involve the words "satin garbage bag," and "ew."  You are so cute! Why are you wearing something that makes you look like a peach-flavored Stay Puft Marshmallow Woman? Don't do this to yourself! You're such a pretty girl!

It's almost like Bobby Trendy's stint of the mayor of Tacky McCrazyville has transformed him into something that's not even human anymore, and because he's no longer flesh and blood, but merely plastic and vinyl and what appears to be a great amount of ruched satin, his tackiness has turned the Fug Avenue corner and he's now streaming up Trashtastic Boulevard on some kind of very, very gay float.

I mean, you sort of have to hand it to him: that outfit is SO COMPLETELY WRONG that it's ALMOST hilariously right, sort of like Angelyne, or Dance 360.  The fluffy fluffy jacket, that might not quite be dead? The Don Ho Barbie shirt? The pants WITH HIS NAME ON THEM IN RHINESTONES? I'm torn between wanting to throw a drink in his face and then kiss him and wanting to run him down with my car.

We here at Go Fug Yourself would like to thank all y'all who may have had anything to do with our nomination in this quarter's Diarist Awards. We love to be nominated for things!

Fergie, currently of The Black Eyed Peas, but known to me now and forever as Stacy from Kids Incorporated,  decides that if one trend is good, seven trends must be better:

Cowboy boots? Check.

Trucker hat? Check.

Pants of unflattering and awkward length? Check.

Shiny cardi-shrug? Check.

Oodles of jewelry? Check.

Tanorexia? Check.

Anonymous male escort who looks vaguely ashamed to be with you, especially since there are photographers around and oh my God, y'all, what if they think we're dating when I'm actually just friends with your friend and I accidentally ended up in this picture SWEET GOD I DON'T ENDORSE THIS OUTFIT, PEOPLE, PLEASE DON'T THINK I DO.

Singer Blu Cantrell is giving up the music and joining Stars on Ice!

Or was it Stars on Crack? God, I can't find that press release.

Dear Bai Ling,

We get it.

Now, put on some pants.

Due to unfortunate reasons beyond our control, Heather and I have recently found ourselves inordinately busy at our day jobs. Therefore, we have a request:

If you run into Hyde, could you give him a message for us? We're not sure if he realizes that he wears this hat (or, occasionally, one VERY VERY SIMILAR TO IT, which appears to be in some kind of twill and is, I suspect The Summer Hat) to EVERY SINGLE EVENT AT WHICH HE COULD HUMANLY BE PHOTOGRAPHED and it's starting to freak us out.

What's under there? At first, we thought it was just that he really really liked the hat. But now, years down the line, we're beginning to wonder. Sure, maybe it's to keep the Hyde 'fro under control. But doesn't he own other caps? A baseball cap? Maybe even -- oh God, I can't believe I'm suggesting this, but it's UNDER DURESSS -- another trucker hat [OH GOD I'M SORRY I SAID THAT PLEASE FORGIVE ME]?

What if Hyde is actually BALD and his 'fro on television is but a WigFro, and the reason we never see him sans chapeau is because when he is sans chapeau he is also SANS HAIR?

Think about it.

(In the interest of our sanity, we're assuming Ben Foster has gone all skinhead for a role.)

Anyway, if you see him, please pass the word along.

Cheers!

Oh my God, Emma Watson, why? WHY?

You are an adorable and lovely young lady! Why are you wearing...this? Are you uncomfortable out of your Hogwarts uniform? Because, frankly, I would rather you wore that around town than those jeans tucked into those flat boots. If you insist on the Jeans Tucked Into Boots thing, the boots need heels, or you're just going to look stumpy. Stumpy!

And the black shirt? So cute. BUT SO NOT A VEST. And if it WERE a vest, you shouldn't be layering it over WHAT LOOKS LIKE THERMAL UNDERWEAR. Let me be clear: I appreciate your girlish modesty. I am so pleased that your young boobies aren't falling out all over the place and that you're not prancing about with your thong waving in the breeze. But you just look so very confused in this outfit. So confused. So uncomfortable. So much like you need professional fashion help.

Surely there's something in your spell book that you can use to cook up a new stylist?

Alicia Keys, at a recent concert:

You know that game they sometimes force you to play at wedding showers, where you have to dress people as brides using only toilet paper? This is like that, except GONE HORRIBLY HORRIBLY WRONG.

Mischa, Mischa, Mischa. This is getting somewhat pathetic.

[Photo courtesy of Daily Celeb.]

If you want my attention so badly, just email me. I'd love to chat with you! I have ever so many questions. How greasy IS Brandon? Do you want to kill yourself everytime you're forced to double with Jason Davis and Courtney Peldon? Or do you just want to kill her and dump her body in the river? Is she just impossible to talk to? What does she do all day? Could you find out for me? How do you feel about the direction The OC is going this year? Don't you think last night's episode was like a potential 9th season episode of 90210 that Aaron Spelling dismissed as being too hacky? And yet, at the same time, do you not love Julie Cooper-Nichol? Isn't she the only thing keeping you from switching over to Survivor? Do you actually wear Keds? What's the square root of 436? Seriously, WHAT ARE YOU WEARING? Did it come like that, or is it one of your own designs? Weren't you proud that your number wasn't in Paris's Sidekick? Is you hair naturally very fine, because it looks like it might be? If so, how do you get it to hold a curl, because I just can't do that? Did all the mirrors in your house break? Are you suprised that the more I fug you, the more i start to like you because you have such amusing facial expressions? Have you thought about using those expressions when you're acting? Can you believe that I like your shoes? Do you want to go to the Coffee Bean?

And so forth.

So, really, there's no call to try to get my attention like this. Because you really are just starting to look a bit deranged.

Dear Brooke, Thank you for wearing a bra. Thank you. But... do you not understand how bras and shirts work together?

[Photo courtesy of Daily Celeb.]

BLACK bra, Brooke. BLACK. Not white. Not even off-white. Black. You can get a very comfortable one for under $40 at Victoria's Secret. Would you like me to take you there? Do you need me to put a black bra in your hand and explain to you what it is, and what its advantages are? And if I do that, can I trust you not to turn around and wear it under a white shirt? I don't think I can, can I? Look, you might have to just call me. I can make you a bra chart. Because clearly, you're not going to get this on your own. Relentless in my crusade to make sure Hollywood and The Bra can coexist in harmony, Heather

Sometimes people wonder why we bother putting up photos of the fugsploits of the insufficiently famous. To that I reply that it is impossible to ignore a person who shows up at an event dressed like this:

[Photo courtesy of Daily Celeb.]

Since an Internet search on her name yielded nothing, I will do this young lady the unusual favor of not printing it here. That way, this entry won't be the only thing that shows up when she Googles herself one night, probably while sniffing whatever glue has fumes toxic enough to inspire her to leave the house in a shirt-sports bra hybrid that -- in addition to being an unfortunate sartorial homage to the martini glass -- gives her boob-pits. She won't have to see me recoil with horror at the image of her pulling her pants down, as if to recommend her bikini waxer to me; neither will she learn of my confusion at her choice of turquoise pumps with this ensemble, which as a whole screams, "If I Am Not Actually Jailbait, Then Thank God We Can At Least Pretend."

A classic example of what we here at Go Fug Yourself call, "the scrolldown." The photo looks fine, until you scroll down and unleash the horror of the bottom half.

I don't hate the shirt. I think it would actually look cute with dark jeans and sexy heel. But the pants? Oy, the pants.

a) FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, WOMAN, HEM THEM.
b) Are those Dockers? At an event that is not a work-sponsored team-building retreat involving chair pyramids and tug of war? Let's call them Bad Idea Khakis.

**** Note: Although the photo caption identifies this woman as Alanis, she looks REMARKABLY like Party of Five's Lacey Chabert. Further examination reveals that it is, I THINK, Alanis. Here, she appears to be thanking India:

I'd also like to point out that the shirt becomes more troubling the more I see of it, but I still think that hot jeans and shoes could possibly rescue. WE HAVE TO KEEP SOME HOPE ALIVE, PEOPLE.

I'm having conflicting emotions:

[Photo courtesy of Daily Celeb]

Am I overcome with relief about the fact that Gwen has finally, apparently, jettisoned her posse of silent Japanese schoolgirls? Or am I deeply disturbed that she's apparently decided that her new look is Toga Party Chic? Does this mean that she's going to trade the schoolgirls in for for a bunch of drunk frat boys, draped in old Star Wars bed sheets, doing beer bongs and keg stands on the red carpet? And what does it say about me that I'd sort of prefer that? And that by "sort of," I mean, "totally"?

Okay, Mischa, are you taunting me? Because you kind of look like you want a piece of me. Like you're saying, "Come and get me, bitch. I'm ready for you. Bring it on. Let's see what you've got."

Is that what you're doing? Is this a conscious ploy for my attention? A cry for help? Or is this some kind of sartorial version of You Got Served? Is this like the part where the kid spins around on his head, except the spinning has been replaced by purple velour sweatpants worn -- sweet God, no -- with a RICK-RACK SEQUINED CARDIGAN?

Do you REALLY want to do this to yourself, Mischa? Do you really want to hurt me? Do really want to make me cry? Do you want to make my eyes bleed? What other reason could you possibly have for dressing like your boyfriend's grandmother,  Barbara Davis, from the waist up? Not to mention the fact that, according to W magazine, Barbara Davis raises kajillions of dollars for charity each year and when she sees you in those pants, she may very well think the you need some of that money to BUY YOURSELF PANTS THAT ARE APPROPRIATE TO WEAR WITH A CARDIGAN and, oh, will it be embarrassing when she tries to write you a check at brunch next week.

My only theory -- other than the I Am Going to Wear The Craziest Outfit I Can Think of Out Shopping So As to Taunt The Fug Girls HAHAHAHHAHA COME AND GET ME FUG GIRLS I AM SO READY FOR YOU SO BRING IT! theory -- is that, at some point en route to the Grove, Mischa spilled a Slurpie on her regular pants and had to fish her old Lounge Around The House Watching Lifetime and Eating Peanut Butter With a Spoon grubbies out of the trunk so as to avoid going pantsless in public.

Look, Mischa: I am trying to help you out. I sort of like Marissa now that she's a lesbian, so I'd like to throw you a bone. BUT YOU ARE NOT MAKING IT EASY FOR ME. LOOK AT HOW SHOUTY I AM.

Couldn't you at least have bought some pants? WORK WITH ME,  KID.

I present to you Jennifer Lopez, taking the old phrase, "She could wear a potato sack," very, very literally:

The light wood heels on her boots make her look like the latest from Jennifer Convertibles.

Oh my God! Starlet Ashley Tisdale's legs are shrinking!

[Photo courtesy of Daily Celeb]

The length of the shirt she's layered over those pants make it look like she's put shoes on her knees.

I'd make a crack about the all-white gauze look, but I don't want the Kabbalahists to come after me. That Esther will break your kneecaps.

[Photo courtesy of Daily Celeb.]

Dear Soap Star Lauralee Bell:

Are you so young and restless that you forget to finish getting dressed? These look like elaborate underclothes, and your "wrap" looks like you spread the legs of some black pantyhose. You look unfinished. I'm not sure what is happening here. Please advise.

Thanks,
Heather.

[Photo courtesy of Daily Celeb.]

The Other Vanessa Williams looks like a walking Bed In A Bag: Dust ruffle, fitted sheet, heavily patterned comforter, elaborate pillow shams. I can't explain the lavender snakeskin shoes, but I do know that it's a sad state of affairs when someone who was part of the great Melrose Place has resorted to upholstering herself.

Janine Turner arrives for her audition for Buffy The Vampire Slayer: The Mid-Life Crisis Years:

Leather pants? Billowing, yet tailored coat? Midriff-bearing wrap top? It's so SMG 1999! And it worked for SMG in 1999. For Janine Turner in 2005? Yeah, not so much. Even the vampires would be like, "girl, please. Are you kidding me? I've been alive for two hundred years and I know this look hasn't come around again, yet. Why don't you try growing old gracefully? Or join our ranks and never grow old at all! Doesn't that sound enticing, Janine? Wouldn't you like to never age? One of us! One of us!"

Here's the thing about Rita Wilson: I think she looks better now than, generally, she ever has. Particularly in Sleepless in Seattle, during which she delivers the memorably funny An Affair to Remember speech while sporting a hairstyle that wouldn't make sense even to the most advanced geometry student. So, props to her for aging well and having the eternal horny devotion of her seemingly classy husband, Hollywood Poster Boy For Normalcy Tom Hanks.

But... this choice of dress is a little confusing:

[Photo courtesy of Daily Celeb.]

Now, I appreciate that gravity and age combine to work against breasts, and I doubly appreciate Ms. Wilson for not getting them lifted so high that they're in danger of accidentally strangling her. I'm serious -- bravo. But there are things one can do that combat the effects of time -- like, say, wear dresses that gather your girls and give them an extra lift.

This dress not only makes Ms. Wilson's ladies look deflated and lopsided, but it underlines things by sending a swath of lace right down the chasm between them -- as if her dress is California, and a catastrophic earthquake sliced a canyon between Los Angeles and San Diego, forever separating them on their sides of the break. Have her breasts misbehaved? Are they feuding? Must they be forcibly kept in their corners like this?

Please, I beg you, women of the world -- prop them up a little! A little is all you need.

[Photo courtesy of Daily Celeb.]

Cute girl; hugely unflattering flamenco dress. It makes a crater out of her belly-button. And are those a bunch of loose threads or something, glowing amid all the ruffles? Ten bucks to whoever pulls them just to see what happens.

Here's the thing. We here at Go Fug Yourself love Lindsay Lohan. We loved her when she was adorable little twins in The Parent Trap, we loved her perfect, regular-sized ass and pretty pretty hair in Mean Girls,  and we loved her Crazy, Boobtastic, Fez-Dating, Exhaustion-Having, Acting-Out phase. We especially love the mean notes she Sidekicked to Paris about Jessica Simpson doing blow, or making fun of Ashlee Simpson, and we really loved the snarky "god bless" sign offs to said Sidekickery.  Sure, she's got family issues, but don't you kind of want to go to Sephora with her to try on sparkly eye-makeup, and then you guys would hit the local dive bar, where you'd both end up getting really wasted on Long Island iced teas and accidentally vomit on someone's plate of chicken wings before stumbling outside to sit on the sidewalk and just laugh and laugh before noticing, seriously, that the pavement is really comfortable and why don't we just lie down? And then you'd call each other the next morning, all hung over and wondering where you left your bra and oh my God, I hope I didn't leave it in the bar, no, wait here it is, I just left it on the sofa. And then one of you would pad over to the other's apartment with a cardboard box of greasy tacos and you'd watch Center Stage and moan for the rest of the day. Wouldn't that be fun? We love her!

We don't really love this outfit, though.

I feel like it would be okay if she hadn't worn that terrible, terrible hat. Or the gauchos. Gauchos are hardly ever okay. Unless, of course, you are a Gaucho. But in that case, you would probably not be wearing the aforementioned Strange, Shiny Bowler hat. It's really all just a little too Jazz Hands for me.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you Mandy Moore, apparently starring in a Darren Aronofsky follow-up film entitled, Requiem for a Prom:

[Photo courtesyof Daily Celeb]

I believe this dress is, as captured above, in the act of making a citizen's arrest of Mandy Moore for ever putting it on in the first place. It looks to be clamping down on her.

Unless she intended to come dressed as a big black garter, in which case she'd better watch out, or one of the many women who showed up to the Oscar parties in white gowns will pick her up and hurl her at some tuxedo-clad gentlemen.

[Photo courtesy of Daily Celeb.]

PARIS: Hey, Mrs. Meister. You look hott. Squished boobs are hott.

NICKY: Thanks, P, you bitch. You look... gold. Both your skin and your dress.

PARIS: Yeah. Tanning is hott. Orange really works for you, too. Anyway, the dress I wanted, I couldn't get, because the number was in my Sidekick and all these total, like, average people were calling the designer and asking for specially made, like, overalls and stuff. Overalls are hott, though.

NICKY: Where did you get it?

PARIS: It's an old dress of Mom's. Hand-me-downs are hott.

NICKY: Call it "vintage." That plays better. And get it tailored next time so it actually sort of fits and doesn't make you look matronly.

PARIS: I couldn't. Those Internet, like, thief-people posted a message I wrote about Mom's seamstress. Something about, "Tell spinster crotchrag she didnt take up miniskirt enuf -- not hott,'" or something, I don't know, but that skirt is going to be hott.

NICKY: Whatever. I have to go file a police report about the guy who mugged me on my way here.

PARIS: Don't. Knife-Attack Couture is hott.

NICKY: You're hott.

PARIS: I know.

Mya finally answers the age old question, "How would I look if, in a fit of desperation, I wore my shower curtain as a dress?"

[Photo courtesy of Daily Celeb]

The answer is, "Like you, in a fit of desperation, wrapped your shower curtain around you like a dress."

And we're just pretending that those boots don't even exist.  They have little cut-outs in them, with which I would find fault if I wasn't pretending they don't exist. They also appear to be made of the skin of several My Little Ponies, but again? Never saw them. They never happened. We can never speak of this again.

[Photo courtesy of Daily Celeb.]

Mischa Barton seems not to realize that when you're going to an Oscar party, you don't have to dress like Oscar's sister. Although maybe she got the dress from the gift bag -- it certainly looks like the kind of gold cellophane wrap that would line a vat of expensive freebies.

Mischa's sister, incidentally, looks amusingly humiliated.

There are times in a fugger's life when she is rendered speechless. When everything she tries to write can't do justice to what inanities, spurred by crazy pills and possibly absinthe, are marching through the head of a celebrity.

This is one of those times.

[Photos courtesy of Daily Celeb.]

I can only assume that, when she got wind that Usher was attending the Oscars, Stephanie Seymour's post-show orgy radar went, "Ping!" And so she watched a few episodes of Dynasty, crafted a curiously frump-ho Linda Evans tribute negligee -- in this case, "negligent lingerie" -- and marched that pendulous rack right up to him to see if he needed a sixteenth for the sex train.

And, to let him check out the caboose:

Just as I am taking a quick break from our Oscar coverage to check out the fug at the Independent Spirit Awards...

[Photo courtesy of Daily Celeb.]

... so did Maria Bello take a quick break from tending her homestead to attend said awards.