March 2008 Archives

Jennifer. JENNIFER.

We'd been doing SO MUCH BETTER lately. And you finally darkened the hair! But for what? So you could wear one of Gretl von Trapp's performance dresses over a pair of jeans? Is your fiance planning to carry you out of the venue and up the stairs after you sing about how the sun has gone to bed?

The thing is, I could live with the dress -- it doesn't fit your chest tremendously well, but overall, I'd probably have ignored this completely if you'd just worn it bare-legged. And possibly with a stiletto heel rather than a wedge. But the jeans, J.Lo.Hew? THE NEEDLESS JEANS? Is this how you repay all the people who got you booted out of Fug Madness in the first round by voting for Scarlett Johansson? And why did my TiVo cut off the end of Top Model last night? How is it possible that I am out of Diet Coke? WHY MUST EVERYTHING BE SUCH A STRUGGLE?

PRINCE ALBERT: AAAH! Um, I mean, ah! It's you, sis! Hi! Ah!

PRINCESS CAROLINE: What's wrong? You seem sort of startled.

ALBERT: ME? No, no, what could POSSIBLY be alarming to me on this glorious night in Monaco?

CAROLINE: It's not ME, is it? Is there something in my teeth?

ALBERT: HA!... Er, I mean, aha, AHA, maybe there is. Yes.

CAROLINE: I hope nobody else noticed!

ALBERT: Oh, I'm pretty sure no one's looking at your teeth.

CAROLINE: Aw, thanks, you're sweet. You look very dapper yourself.

ALBERT: I wasn't... hey, isn't it COLD outside? Don't you want to be wearing a coat? FREEZING. I've never been colder.

CAROLINE: It IS a bit nippy out. Could I just borrow your jacket for a few minutes to warm up a tad?

ALBERT: NO. It's... I mean, this old thing, it's very thin, rather careworn, you'd almost be colder. Maybe we could get you a really LONG wool coat? Or maybe a comforter to wrap yourself in, all toasty-like? Doesn't that sound divine?

CAROLINE: You're so silly. And what's with the red kerchief? Bit showy, don't you think? Tsk, tsk, little brother!

ALBERT: You know what, forget it -- I'm going to find some appetizers. Good luck, fool! I hope Liza Minnelli doesn't send any thugs to beat you up for stealing her dress! Oh, and NICE F'ING PURSE.

CAROLINE: Hmm, what? Did you just say something? Sorry, I was just checking my teeth one more time. What about Nigel's purse?

ALBERT: Sigh. NOTHING.

Because I don't get Showtime, I don't know much about what Hal Sparks did on Queer as Folk, so I just remember him as the diminutive but smiley guy who hosted Talk Soup after John Henson.

He was cute. And then he turned himself into Gene Simmons.

Nothing against Gene Simmons, who is a legend, and rightly so. But we already have a Gene Simmons and he's very good at being himself. So unless Hal Sparks is going to play Gene in Trump Vodka Presents Donald Trump's Celebrity Apprentice: The Movie, By Donald Trump, he might want to cool it. What works on Gene Simmons looks a bit like "cocktail waiter and low-level illusionist at Jack's House of Magic" on poor Hal here. I'm a little afraid that if he opens his mouth, a prosthetic tongue will tumble out  and get caught in his waist beads.

(1) MISCHA BARTON vs. (3) PARIS HILTON

Oh, these two. These two wacky kids. They've shared so much: boys, booths at Hyde, a dramatic ping-ponging back and forth from looking like Crazy on a Hanger and Hey! Kind of Pretty. Like so:

Bored. But cute! (I like polka dots.)

But then...

(2) SHARON STONE vs. (16) COURTNEY PELDON

This could've been the matchup that reunited Sharon Stone with her would-be protege, Lindsay Lohan. Instead, she gets a sartorially deranged munchkin whom we've decided we want Sharon to adopt. Why? Do you even need to ask?

Sharon would be all, "THAT'S DRAMATIC, CHUTNEY, AND THE RED BRA STRAP IS AN INSPIRED CHOICE. BUT IF YOU INSIST ON WEARING PANTIES, YOU SHOULD STAY AWAY FROM ONES THAT LOOK LIKE A SUNBURN."

Also, pink should be deployed very carefully, and on special occasions. Like this one:

Despite all our Hot Technical-Difficulties Action on Friday, we managed to whittle the field down to the Elite Eight -- or, "Round 4," if you prefer. It was rife with drama, typos, and memory lapses (like when we said, "Click here to download the bracket again," and then forgot to attach the bracket), but such is Bracketology Madness. You start, your brain gets scrambled along the way, and it spits you out after the final game feeling exhilarated while also craving a really long nap.

For REAL this time: If you haven't downloaded the bracket and you'd like to here it is: Download Fug_Madness_2008_bracket.pdf

Now I present: The Fug Madness 2008 Elite Eight, courtesy of YOU. We'll have two games today, and two on Tuesday, which determine who "wins" each bracket and moves on to Thursday's Final Four.

(2) SHARON STONE vs. (16) COURTNEY PELDON -- Monday, March 31

Juliette Lewis only managed 36 percent of the vote against the formidable crazy that is Sharon "Rapid Beaver" Stone. For her part, Courtney piled up 60 percent of the vote in knocking off Fergie and continuing her swath of destruction through the shambles that is the Cher Bracket. This is her toughest test yet; we think Sharon will put up one hell of a fight, and not just because of her new nickname.

(1) POSH vs. (6) BEYONCE - Tuesday, April 1

Fab. Just fab. Beyonce bested Jennifer Lopez in a little warm-up Battle of the Divas by a narrow 53 percent to 46 percent. So while J.Lo returns to her absurdly ornate nursery and cuddles the cute babies and Marc sups on some O-positive for energy, Beyonce plows forward to face off with Posh. Mrs. Beckham got out to an early lead and lost a bit of her edge in the late going against Sienna Miller, but nonetheless emerged Victoria-ous (HA! Except, remember what I said about brains being scrambled? Can you TELL?) with 57 percent of the vote.

(1) MISCHA BARTON vs. (3) PARIS HILTON - Monday, March 31

In the end, poor little Brittany Murphy was no match for Paris Hilton -- which might be a good thing, or might be sad, because winning something is always fun, even if it's a contest about how bad your clothes and alleged-maybe-suspected lip injections are. Paris garnered the support of 83 percent of you, and goes on to face Speidi-killer Mischa Barton, who took 71 percent of the vote in dispatching the queasy-making Hills duo.

(1) CHLOE SEVIGNY vs. (2) BAI LING - Tuesday, April 1

Wow. Just wow. But let's not get ahead of ourselves: Chloe made it here by beating the impressively frightening, scantily clad Phoebe Price with a 69-percent mandate, and now gets to face off against the impressively frightening, scantily clad Bai Ling. Tara Reid was no match for Bai, and slunk home with just 17 percent of the vote tucked into her underwear.

Essentially, while we truly do love Lady Bobbington and her reign of terror at Vogue, we sort of hate the annual "Shape" issue. It's so phony:

"Despite presumably good intentions, the shape issue feels more like Vogue trying to bum a ride on a politically correct bandwagon, and our girl A-Dubs is a particularly lousy hitchhiker. Her editor’s letter boldly blames designers for using scrawny models to present “a non-vivacious, homogenous ideal,” then steps all over that, in its attempt to homogenize zaftig designers Kate and Laura Mulleavy of Rodarte by offering them a free four-month diet and exercise plan."

Oh, Anna. If you're coming for the designers now, are the bloggers NEXT? YOU WILL TEAR THE POTATO CHIPS FROM MY COLD DEAD HANDS! More of the same here.

I am incredibly disheartened that Kelly Clarkson is back to blonde. It's so... crispy. But the bigger problem is Kelly turning her pants into footie pajamas.

[Photo: Splash News]

Honey. Denim is not a shoe. You may have gotten knocked out of Fug Madness in Round Two but that doesn't mean we aren't taking notes for next year. Beware our bookmarks of judgment.

(1) POSH vs. (5) SIENNA MILLER

FABULOUS, THIS MATCH-UP. Our gal Vicks might even call it major. A battle of the Brits. But can Posh fight off the young upstart?  Sienna is strong in the ways of the fug. But is she this strong?

Remember those halcyon days before Posh took out the extensions because David kept yanking them out in the heat of the moment? These are good times -- with Posh frolicking around Los Angeles, pretending to care about Scientology a little, but mostly dressing up Katie Holmes like a doll. But these were good times too, at the height of her WAG-dom. Posh, in other words, is kind of a classic.

And then, like Maude, there's Sienna:

(2) BAI LING vs. (3) TARA REID

Oooh, boy. I love you guys. Look what you did! You created a Sweet 16 Clash of the Titans -- a strange, sloppy nutjob whose raison d'etre nobody can quite discern, and a strange, sloppy nutjob whose raison d'etre nobody can quite discern. It's poetic.

Indeed I'm inspired. This can mean only one thing: It's haiku time. Which is a lot like Hammer time, but with better pants.

Left photo: Splash News]

Tragic formalwear.
What's worse: polka-dot bra top
Or refried prom dress?

Two boobs and their boobs.
I want to give them sweaters.
Knit, Intern George, knit!

If that's them dressed up,
I'd hate to see them relaxed.
Wait: I spoke too soon:

(1) MISCHA BARTON vs. (12) SPENCER & HEIDI

I never predicted that Spencer Pratt and Heidi Montag would make it this far, but then I figured out what must be happening: Spencer is paying his friends to vote, because he has never met a printed version of his name that he didn't think looked pretty, and Heidi's family are voting because they hate him  (seriously, they couldn't even really hide it on The Hills -- any time they were gazing silently in his direction, they looked like they wanted to shove Spencer's stupid phone up his nostril and then light it on fire).

So, just to get on Spencer's nerves, I'm not even going to use his picture. TAKE THAT, PRATT.

Instead let's just remind ourselves that Heidi paid a lot of money to turn into a bad mannequin version of her old, spunkier self. Her lips in that premiere episode were hypnotically puffy. Every time she pursed them together I kept expecting them to pierce and deflate. Heidi is also a pretty boring dresser -- it's all sleeveless low-cut dresses that hug her silicone melons. Yawn. We get it. Call Pamela Anderson to see if she's cleaning out her closet any time soon.

Mischa Barton is the opposite. When she's not feigning an interest in Keds, she's all about wearing clothes that droop around her frame and make it look like she's wilting under them:

(2) SHARON STONE vs. (11) JULIETTE LEWIS

This ought to be interesting. We're of the mind that there are two sorts of fugs. One is the tragical misguided Tara Reid-y kind, where you're just like, "oh, HONEY. NO." And then there's the over-the-top, wackadoo crazy diva kind, where you're more like, "oh, my God. No. AND YET YES."  One could argue that at least one of these women is the latter, and possibly both.

The no-questions-asked diva, of course, is Sharon Stone, who is SO GLORIOUS that I must put her after the jump (you MIGHT be able to see her nipples a bit. Not in a way that your boss will come swanning past your desk and then do a swift, angry U-turn, asking you loudly, "ARE THOSE NIPPLES?" but rather in a way where you think, "are those...oh, Sharon."):

Due to daylong technical problems that we've since resolved -- yay! -- the Madonna bracket didn't go up on time, and then briefly appeared with a malfunctioning jump post. To compensate, we'll leave the comments and the voting open through most of Friday. Thanks for your patience! Comments are working on all other brackets again also.

(2) JENNIFER LOPEZ vs. (6) BEYONCE

We love it when divas collide. And NOT FOR THE FIRST TIME:

THAT'S not an awkward photo. For the love of God, I can understand why you might want to ice each other out, but WHY IGNORE BECKS? He's so beautiful. Give that man a little face time. That being said, both of our contestants look lovely -- if affected by RAGING BITCHFACE -- here, if you can ignore the fact that Beyonce's dress seems to have a tail. In fact, as one of our commenters noted earlier in the tournament, both of these woman are actually naturally very beautiful. And yet they chose to wear items just as:

WOO! We think things are working normally again. Thursday's Madonna bracket, on which almost no one got to vote due to our jump-post problems, will be up all day Friday -- and we'll leave the other three Thursday polls and comments open longer than usual on Friday to compensate for the problems we were having there also. Here are direct links to Thursday's Charo, Bjork, and Cher brackets if you didn't get a chance to vote.

Friday's games will proceed as normal. Thanks again for all your patience! We will now -- we PRAY -- resume our normal broadcast day.

CHERYL COLE: Can you imagine how ridiculous this outfit might look if I stood up? Hootchie, right? Not that it matters. I'm in a British girl group. By law, one of us has to look hootchie and also wear a misguided hat. Although usually not the same girl. I hate everyone!

NADINE COYLE: Like 99% of Americans have no idea who I am. Maybe a Kit Kat will fix that. What a blessing that we just happened to be eating them while sitting on a sofa we found on the curb in front of a frat house when these photographers popped by!

THE ONE THAT LOOKS LIKE A DOLL: I look weirdly like a doll.

THE OTHER ONE: I'm just trying to read a book, for god's sake.

SARAH HARDING: They're making me pretend to be Agyness Deyn. It's so embarassing.

CHERYL COLE: I had to crawl into frame of this photo because I can't even walk in these shoes.

NADINE COYLE: My legs are freakishly faux-tanned.

THE ONE THAT LOOKS LIKE A DOLL: I still look weirdly like a doll.

THE OTHER ONE: The way I'm holding this book makes me look like I'm not wearing a skirt.

SARAH HARDING: Am I wearing a tiered skirt? I think I am. AWKWARD.

(1) CHLOE SEVIGNY vs. (13) PHOEBE PRICE

Charo would probably be very proud of Phoebe Price. Not necessarily the fame-mongering, famous-for-being-fugly-and-that's-really-it part -- I mean, really, call us when YOU get a Geico commercial, Pheebs -- but rather for the part where Ms. Price teases up her hair and dresses like she popped out of a basket full of plastic grass at the Easter Bunny's bachelor party.

[Photo: Splash News]

We suspect Phoebe dreams of discovering that she is Charo's long-lost daughter, much in the way Posh affectionately refers to Joan Collins as her real mother and Blair on Gossip Girl reimagines herself as Audrey Hepburn reborn. Still, we like to think any offspring of Charo's would rather shave her head and wear a muumuu than stand around desperately holding up magazines in which she is featured, trolling Robertson Boulevard day in and day out, and telling the paps to credit her as a "model" -- which I suppose she is here, of lingerie, although it's a job she accepted without it being offered.

Come to think of it, though, Chloe is no stranger to Charo-ism herself. Not only is there this shredded affront to the mighty zebra, but there's this:

(3) PARIS HILTON vs. (15) BRITTANY MURPHY

Well, I'm about out of material. We weren't expecting that Brittany Murphy -- one of the last people to crawl into the brackets, to be honest -- would make it this far. In fact, we weren't even picking her to win that Round One clash against Gwen Stefani, who is not tremendously far off from Chloe Sevigny in terms of having her personal style drilled into us as Very Advanced, and in fact Unimpeachable, even when it looks pretty damn impeachable and unpeachy to the naked eye. Gwen versus Paris would've been pretty sweet. As it is, B.Murph and her Lips Of Bad Judgment sit in this slot, and the well of fun fuggery is running dry. This is the best I can do:

Yeah, it's sort of weird -- bad hair extensions, and shoes that prompted Jessica to think, from a very large distance, that Brittany was roller-skating into a fashion show -- and whatever she did to her face is still a problem. But other than this and the other outfits we've showcased, we're out of ideas here. Which isn't to say she can't mount a charge; just that the poor kid apparently should've reconsidered going anywhere at ALL in the month of February, because so far those outings have been keeping her afloat here in the Pacifug Ocean and we're sure she'd rather go moor the S.S. Restylane somewhere else.

For her part, Paris's stank wardrobe has already dispatched with two of her friends and/or favorite props -- Elisha Cuthbert, then Kimberly Stewart -- and I am now wondering why she and Brittany here don't hang out more often. She and Benji could double-date with Brittany and her maybe-former-check-kiting-husband Simon Monjack (which totally sounds like something you would order on top of a hamburger, as if he was trying to come up with an alias in the dairy aisle of the supermarket and a packet of Monterey Jack caught his eye), and talk about all their favorite weaves and mascaras and pieces of bling.

Like this one:

(5) FERGIE vs. (16) COURTNEY PELDON

 Okay, so it turns out Peldon is a tough competitor. Who knew? We all thought she was sort of a hilarious mascot, but it seems she is also A FIGHTER. Miss Fergie Ferg should put up a good fight, though. I mean, look at her:

It's like if Hermione and Miss America had a baby and forced it to become a stripper. And then forced it to join the Girl Scouts. And then made it a Pink Lady. And then talked it into modeling for Cost Plus's line of accessories. And then made her into a total douchebag. Oh, wait -- sorry, that's Chad Michael Murray. Anyway, it's been a LONG HARD ROAD for Fergs, and many was the night that she was put away wet.

On the other hand, this IS this:

I'm sure it's hard working on a soap opera on which you are required to fall in love with your uncle, even though he's more or less your age and not actually a BLOOD-RELATED uncle because your grandparents adopted him. He's still Uncle Max, and that ought to make it really hard for you, as an actress, to understand what your motivation is when you're asked to pass him the stuffing at Thanksgiving.

But that is no reason to lose your mind and forget that it is your on-screen FATHER who has the eye patch, and not you. And even his one working eye could tell that the unflattering pants/childlike-shirt combo has eaten your waist and come back for seconds. No, this won't do at ALL. You've got to brush off the complexities of your day job -- even if that job requires you to tell everyone over and over again, "Well, I mean, he's my ADOPTIVE uncle. It doesn't COUNT" -- and look as fabulous as possible. Or at the very least, run behind the poster and untuck your shirt.

"We've washed the left half of Rashida's dress in regular detergent and the right side in New! Maximum strength! Liquid ultra cloroxyclean! Let's see if she notices a difference."

We started with a field of 64 celebrities -- or rather, 65 if you count Brown Peldon, and it's more accurately a field of "65 personages of great interest to themselves and, in a few cases, to others."

Either way, over the past few days your mouse-clicks whittled the group down to 16 contenders, most of whom are frighteningly formidable and a few of whom will be summarily booted without so much as a brow furrow. We've got what we pray are some tense-making matchups between stalwarts of fug, seeds both low and high, and a pair of people who have coasted through two rounds on the strength of people deeming them "fugly on the inside." Quite a cast; if we could put them all in a movie together, it would win an Oscar... for cinematography.

If you haven't downloaded the bracket and you'd like to fill it in and see what's in store, here it is (and, yes, I totally published this post the first time without remembering to upload the file... awesome): Download Fug_Madness_2008_bracket.pdf

And now, the reveal of where all that voting has gotten us.

(2) SHARON STONE vs. (11) JULIETTE LEWIS - Friday, March 28

As expected, Sharon put a 77-percent hurt on Scarlett Johansson, and next takes on a renowned nutbar in Juliette Lewis -- who inspired 82 percent of you to vote for her and not for the fug of Keira Knightley.

(5) FERGIE vs. (16) COURTNEY PELDON - Thursday, March 27

Fergie got here by offing Brad Pitt and Rihanna; Peldon may well be the first No. 16 seed to knock off a No. 1 seed in the history of bracketology (let's just pretend that's true, without bothering with stuff like "research"), beating Lindsay Lohan in Round One and then disposing of Paula Abdul in Round Two.

And there's more!

There are some celebrities you spy out on the street and -- despite the fact that you were once pretty sure you were incapable of being all that impressed by another person (who, after all, just puts her pants on one leg at a time) -- you find that, in actuality, you can barely contain your glee at having actually spotted this crazy, famous, or crazy famous individual in the wild. This reaction generally occurs with the likes of Brad and Angie, Karl Lagerfeld, Madonna, or (for some of us) Britney Spears.

And then there are celebrities you spot out and about and you could not care less. See: Kardashian, Kim.

And then there is Mariah Carey:

[Photo: INFDaily.com]

It was not until I laid eyes on this photo that I realized she is SO in the first group for me. SHE IS SPECTACULAR. She is wearing a cropped, gold lame bomber jacket! And a dress a size too small! And fantastic stripper shoes! And SUNGLASSES AT NIGHT! She is a TREMENDOUS DIVA and somehow I have fallen in love with her in the last week and a half. I do not know how that happened, but there you have it.

Allow me to walk you though the experience of watching American Idol in my house last night:

ME: Hang on. What happened to Paula's left sleeve? Did Simon finally get the point where he just couldn't take her nonsensical ramblings anymore and rip it off in a rage?

ME: Hold the phone. Is she wearing pleather elbow-length GLOVES? With assorted bracelets?

ME: REWIND. ARE THOSE GLOVES FINGERLESS? Also, is she doing the Macarena right now?

ME: REWIND THE PHONE AND HOLD ON TO IT. Fingerless pleather elbow-length gloves covered in bracelets and capped off with a cocktail ring? Am I seeing this? I think I am seeing this. Maybe I hit my head at some point today and now I'm hallucinating. That's probably what's going on here. Why can't I hallucinate about Brad Pitt? Is that Kristy Lee Cook singing "God Bless the USA"? WHERE DID MOMMY PUT HER GIN?

Sigh. I just love a v-neck ruffle. Really, that's not sarcasm -- remember Michelle Williams's yellow Oscar dress the year she was nominated for Brokeback Mountain? I know a lot of people hated it, but it was like MY FAVORITE EVER. Because of the neckline. And the color. But mostly the neckline. Hence, I love this dress on Thandie Newton:

Does it help that she herself is quite gorgeous? Yes. And god knows, this dress is girlie and frilly to the extreme. And yet I love it. And her. And all of you! And life! And SANDWICHES!

Um, sorry about that. It's almost lunchtime. Carry on.

Is it me, or is Joely Fisher wearing some very glamourous pajamas -- complete with bed jacket! -- out in public?

Yeah, that's what I thought.

What happened to poor Thalia?

This was her back in 2006.

Then Tommy Mottola knocked her up, she had a baby six months ago, and now she's morphed into this:

Glenn Close is great. It pains me to have a beef with her, yet here I am, throwing a 32-ounce porterhouse at her.

I am FINE with women in suits, and indeed unless they're on backwards (hi, Celine Dion!), often think they look chic. But something about this reminds me way too much of every dance I ever went to in college. Throw in a collared shirt and a red tie, and I'm right back in the dorm watching a girl lean back her head, get the ingredients for a red shot poured into her mouth, then sputter and sit up too soon, spilling crimson down the front of her white dress. Glenn deserves something a bit more stylish, or properly tailored, or graceful -- something befitting her talent, rather than the smart-casual wear yanked out of the closet and ironed twice a year by some dude in Dillon Hall who goes by Spoons.

(1) VICTORIA "POSH SPICE" BECKHAM vs. (9) JOSS STONE

These two people are very, very different. One of them is famous for having singing talent, loves wearing loose, floaty clothing, often looks sort of dirty and sticky, and would rather go barefoot and contract any NUMBER of foot fungi than stick a toe in a pair of shoes.

The other is famous for having very little singing talent, loves being squeezed into things that crack her ribs and push the air out of her lungs as much as humanly possible, often looks orange, and -- as witnessed on her fabulous reality special, in which she got pulled over by the cops for speeding while wearing driving flats and quickly changed into stilettos before the police officer asked her to step out of the car -- would rather die than be seen in anything but four-inch heels:

(2) BAI LING vs. (7) KELLY CLARKSON

Ah, yes. Some would call this the battle of the unquestionably talented (K. Cla) versus the questionably talented (you know who). But doesn't the indomitable spirit that Bai Ling puts into her outfits count as a talent? We like to think so. It takes skill to accessorize a two-piece dress with William H. Macy. It takes moxie to go out in the snow practically naked. It takes balls to go out in a homemade crop-top with your own face on it.  All that, AND she can dance.

She can not, as far as we know, sing, unlike her rival here:

(1) MISCHA BARTON vs. (9) KEVIN FEDERLINE

Call us crazy, but it almost seems like the two of these could potentially start dating. Can't you just see it? 2008 K-Fed feels like exactly the kind of quasi-rocker that  Misha would go for. Though whether or not he'd be into Princess Floaty Tunic here is hard to say:

Oh, Mischa. That would be so cute for your high school drama club's production of A Midsummer Night's Dream, but in the outside world, it just seems likely to get caught in your car door and cut off the circulation to your neck, kind of like what this seems to have done to your ribs. On the other hand, at least you're not wearing THIS anymore. Or dating him, btw. In fact, one could argue this fine man is a total upgrade from Old Firecrotch-Hater Davis (who, we must remind you, sat next to one of us at the movies once and smelled so bad we had to breathe through our mouth. Also, he kept lifting up his hoodie to grab and inspect his belly fat. Also, he consumed: a bag of popcorn, a bag of chips, a bag of Skittles, a carton of Dibs, a Coke, a Slurpee and a lemonade. We just need to continue to tell people that story, that's all):

(3) KEIRA KNIGHTLEY vs. (11) JULIETTE LEWIS

You guys, Juliette is REALLY EXCITED to have made it this far.

Give her an H (for the hideous headband)! Give her a B (for the blue bag she's wearing)! Give her a T (for thinking to wear tights with that). What does that spell? HBT! Which, when you try and pronounce it, sounds as fugly as her outfit. But I don't know why she always has to look so cranky. The clothes didn't force themselves on her. She might want to start considering that as an excuse, though -- it's about all that justifies some of her rocker costumes.

Actually, she'd probably love borrowing this little number from Keira for one of her performances:

The Sweet 16 starts on Thursday, and we have half the field in place, with a one-, two-, three-, and five-seed in action against formidable opponents -- all of whom have achieved some impressive upsets on the road to the next round.

After the jump, you may commence salivating at the prospect of Chloe Sevigny doing battle with one of the toughest, most scantily clad ladies in the field. Both will enter, only one will leave...

I know she's a model and all, and models can often get away with stuff those of us shorter, less genetically blessed civilians can not.

And yet:

No.

[Photos: Splash News]

THANDIE: WHAT did I say? What do I ALWAYS say?

SCHWIMMER: ... I don't know. Never do a guest-stint on ER?

THANDIE: No. You know very well what it was, but I want to hear it from you. What did I SPECIFICALLY tell you?

SCHWIM: Oh, fine, whatever. You told me to wash up and shave, and stop wearing my scarf like this with my shirt open and a giant coat, because it looks like I'm maybe naked, and blah blah blah.

THANDIE: You're damn RIGHT that's what I said. Look at yourself! You look like you've been on a bender since 2006.

SCHWIM: But why should I listen to you? If that type of lacy shorts thing didn't work on Rihanna then it definitely wasn't ever going to work on you. You're old enough to play her MOTHER, for God's sake.

THANDIE: What?!? Only on a soap where they rapidly age kids 15 years in two episodes, so WATCH IT, Ross. I was only trying to help you look less smelly. But if you imply I look anything less than fabulous at 35, I will drag you out of this dive bar and SO HELP ME JESUS I will beat some sense into you with a Norelco and some Pantene.

SCHWIM: Fine, fine. I'm sorry. Let's make a pact. You check with me before you consider taking fashion tips from a book of funeral parlor wallpaper samples, and I'll... you know, bathe, and stuff.

THANDIE: And the scarf with the open shirt?

SCHWIM: I'll cool it, I promise. Is it really that bad?

THANDIE: Is mine?

SCHWIM: YES.

THANDIE: YES.

SCHWIM: Okay, then.

THANDIE: Now go get us a pitcher. And MAKE IT A PRICEY ONE.

(2) JENNIFER LOPEZ vs. (10) LUCY LIU

We realize that Lucy Liu is not to be held directly accountable for anything Pat Field threw at her on Cashmere Mafia, and in fact, one of the reasons we watch that show -- although we can't think what the others are, off the top of our heads -- is that Liu seems to be enjoying herself immensely in that wackadoo clothing (after all, when else will experience doing cardio in a fur hoodie?).

But Lucy does get to make her own decisions sometimes, and her personal tastes seem to run all over the place as well.

Behold, the rare and exotic Silver Taffetaback, almost never spied out in the wild. Do not attempt to pet it, or a venom-crusted stiletto will be inserted rather rudely into your navel. Lucy also recently chose to wear a distracting array of bows on her stomach, and, of course, there's the time she wore a cape that resembles the bastard offspring of an overexcited cotton-candy machine and a collapsible paper lantern. Good GOD, woman. Stop it. And yet, don't.

But can she compete with this magnificent creature?

(1) CHLOE SEVIGNY vs. (9) MARY-KATE OLSEN

This ought to get interesting. The queen of quirk versus Princess Derelicte.

We're sure you spent oodles -- OODLES! -- of time in the Chloe Archives before casting your vote last week, but if you can only look at one photo, please make it this one. It bears telling that when one of our fathers caught sight of that particular picture in the GFY book, he required much convincing before he truly believed the person pictured was a woman.

The good news for M-K O is that we're all pretty sure she's a girl. The bad news involves these shorts:

One more reminder and we won't bug you again: The chosen photos are not the only things you're judging here. They're simply examples of a larger fug, so have the body of work in mind when you vote. Now, take it away, Bjork.

(7) RENEE ZELLWEGER vs. (15) BRITTANY MURPHY

Witness Portrait Of A Thoughtful Actress At Work:

Yeah, so the issue with Renee is two-fold as far as we're concerned. We've made it clear that we're not huge fans of the hair. But you know things are going poorly when a dress that is as pretty as this one puts us into a coma, simply because IT'S SO PREDICTABLE ON HER. There's something to be said for finding something that looks good on you and wearing the heck out of it, but could the girl just consider grabbing a gown that ISN'T like all the rest of her dresses just once?  Couldn't we interest her a cap sleeve? Or some straps? Or ONE STRAP?

We sort of wish Crazy Brittany Murphy would get invited to the Oscars, because we think she'd be fun, at least:

Just a reminder as we head into Fug Madness Round Two: Feel free to judge the contestants on whatever criteria you deem best -- but remember, don't vote based solely on the photos we choose with each entry. They're merely there to serve as examples of a larger body of fug. Now, please, commence warming up your voting finger...

(9) PAULA ABDUL vs. (16) COURTNEY PELDON

I am starting to wonder if Paula Adbul is a long-lost Peldon. Think about it: They're both crazy-bad dressers, they are both people we imagine Simon Cowell would rather eat beetle-crusted knives than speak to on a daily basis, and neither appears to be terribly talented at anything other than standing up for a few minutes at a time and smiling while waiting for the flashbulbs to stop.

Yes, Paula has those hit songs of yore, but if we're being honest, they weren't really good because of HER specifically -- J.Lo could've released "Straight Up" and it would've sounded almost the same. Really, P.Ab is just lucky she found someone to pay her at this late and loony stage in her career. If someone would stick Courtney Peldon in a video with an animated cat for three minutes, she'd be equally qualified to be a talent judge -- say, on Randy Jackson's Sweet-Ass Dance Crew That Is Stepping Up And Serving You, or whatever it's called. I think we'd soon see her emerge as a real Paula Jr. Then they could maybe play mother and daughter in some amazing TV movie about how vodka and curling irons don't mix.

There's even common ground in their dress sense:

The first round ended on Friday with one more tight matchup, some moderately close contests, and a few blowouts -- some expected, some surprisingly decisive. If you haven't already, consider downloading and printing the full bracket, so you can fill it in as we go and track how things are shaping up.

Round 2 begins today. But first: Friday's results! Hooray! Click through to see what you've made happen, and who'll face off come Tuesday.

"This is so bloody miserable. I didn't... Nobody TOLD ME this was going to be so short. Someone's head is going to ROLL for this. Lucky I did my squats this morning, but I still feel like that Tori Spelling creature. Bollocks to this. If anyone walks up to me and congratulates me on how far I'm dilated, I am going to BURN DOWN THIS ENTIRE STORE."

If you're just arriving here and have no idea what we're up to with this Fug Madness thing, click here and here for the information.

On the first day of Fug Madness, a No. 16 seed achieved something that it has never done in the entire history of the NCAA basketball tournament: knocked off a No. 1 seed. We can only IMAGINE the screeching Dick Vitale would have gotten up to, had this match been televised. Who would have thought that Lindsay Morgan Lohan, star of actual movies that were released in recent memory, would lose to Courtney Peldon? Admittedly, Courtney Peldon spent 2003-2006 wearing the most insane things she could find at Angry Bob's Discount Wrestling Superstore, but Lindsay Lohan spent, like, YESTERDAY and 100 days prior wearing leggings and thinking she looks super in them -- AND most certainly has the resources to improve her overall appearance. (We think.)

But that's the beauty of the tournament -- some days, the little guy just plays better, no matter what the pundits predict. Congratulations to Courtney for winning a fight that was tied at 50 percent apiece in the morning and almost equally neck-and-neck down the stretch. She should print that out and tack it to the bulletin board in her bedroom.

Thanks to everyone for keeping the comments section fun, wise and witty so far -- and remember, in fug as in life, your vote counts -- so drop by today's Cher, Bjork, Charo, and Madonna matchups if you haven't already.

After the jump, the official Day 1 scores and the list of Round Two matchups that will take place on Monday.   

When I was looking at the pictures of the Paley Center's Buffy the Vampire Slayer event, I saw this woman and didn't have any idea who she was. I thought, "Maybe she's a douche-ily attired producer?"

And yet not. It's Emma Caulfield, who played Anya (and Brandon's uptight newspaper editor girlfriend Susan Keats, on 90210). She apparently has decided it would be a good idea to transform herself into the love child of Tori Spelling and someone who really loves HATS. She was wrong.

Putting aside how Lady Victoria Hervey -- a British "celebrity" -- even finagled an invitation to a Prada event in the first place, let's all ponder together the terrifying mystery of what she chose to wear.

It starts out as a chain-mail thing she'd totally wear to the Knights of the Round Table spring dance...

And ends up the kind of thing you'd wear for several nights around table dancers. I feel like everyone standing behind her is trying REALLY HARD to avert their eyes from the thong string they can see flossing her backside, while she's all, "Where's my date? I want to show him my new 'You Galahad Me At Hello' tattoo! WHY IS EVERYONE TURNED AWAY FROM ME?"

Just a reminder for the final bracket of the day: please vote for the person you think is fugliest (based on clothes, hair, overall style... you know the drill as far as that goes), and please consider their entire body of work as you weigh your very mighty decision, not just the picture at hand.  PS: Your comments so far have been a scream.

(1) POSH   vs.  (16) KATE BOSWORTH

What can we saw about Posh that we haven't already said? She is amazing:

She is everything. She is a glamorous performing alien. She is a lover of hotpants. She is a secret Poison groupie. She is a raging Karl Lagerfiend. SHE OWNS A PAIR OF MOTHER-F'ING CHAPS. She is, as you see here, also perhaps a tennis ball, and/or is smuggling a pair of them in her chest cavity.  She is Posh. TREMBLE BEFORE HER.

And you might not think so at first blush, but Kate Bosworth might have a hint of our gal Vicks in her somewhere. At the very least, she might have lifted this from Posh's closet:

(2) BAI LING vs. (15) HILARY DUFF

I don't know whether to feel sorry for Hilary Duff that she drew Bai Ling in the first round, or pleased for her. La Ling is an incredibly formidable opponent, who only escaped a top seed because the body of work she's best known for is in fact her physique -- that omnipresence on the red carpet has yet to be matched by any achievements on her resume. But let's not write off Hilary altogether. Bai Ling is Bai Ling, but Hilary's hardly devoid of sins. Why, just last month -- on Groundhog Day, no less -- she performed in this:

Punxsutawney Phil saw a heck of a lot more than just his shadow that day. He may never come above ground again, in part because he's probably so offended that Hilary had already worn this at least once before, with different accessories -- like rethinking the under-bra and the shoes might make it more palatable. Hilary's also always been a big fan of formal shorts, thought leggings and a beret would make good bedfellows, and managed to make Rob Schneider look well-dressed.

But is it enough to compete with this?

(1) MISCHA BARTON vs. (16) KRISTEN BELL

Kristen Bell sneaks in at the lowest-possible seed because of what a solid recent history she has. The hemlines have risen, her legs look longer, and we've documented her improving taste an accidentally excessive amount. [We wrote a whole chapter in The Fug Awards about how she needed a fashion intervention, and lo and behold, she got one mere months before it was published. THANKS A LOT, KRISTEN. You couldn't have waited?] Why have we gotten so repetitive with our praise? Frankly, because we forget about the hot streak almost as soon as we acknowledge it. So potent was her stumpification of years past -- check it out here, along with some of her hits, in Kristen's personalized archive -- that it still bleaches our brains of her more recent successes. Although we'd be remiss in claiming that the hemline issue was her only problem.

[Photo: Splash News]

Watch that balance on your hideous straw wedges, Kristen -- if you fall over, that blouse-dress you're wearing will ride up all the way to Pantytown.

But Kristen has her work cut out for her if she's going to knock off Mischa Barton, who is prone to putting together fascinating -- read: WTF?!? -- outfits like this:

(2) SHARON STONE                 vs.      (15) EMMA WATSON

Where does one start with the delightful/crazy Sharon Stone? The fur bedspread she dragged around all winter, as if she would soon be forced to make her bed in the street?  This outfit, which appears to encompass the pelt of every animal currently walking the earth? The dress she ran through the office shredder? The hair?  The make-up? She's simply the complete fug package. She should teach a class, in fact, like Advanced Fugology 213.

Below, would be one of her most promising students:

(2) JENNIFER LOPEZ                      vs.  (15) NATALIE PORTMAN

Oh my god, taking the trip through J.Lo's archives on this very site has reminded us once more that J.Lo is a special, treasured genius who has earned her high-seeding in blood, sweat, tears, and chiffon. From her spectacular stage wear -- can we interest you in the world's most complicated halter top, complete with fireworks? How about a jacket made of Chewbacca? Or an adult-sized, bump-concealing South Beach Barbie costume? -- to her red carpet choices (shall we remind you of the turban?), she is a delectable melange of over-the-top, crazy-ass fug that can not be denied.

Natalie Portman's fug, on the other hand, CAN be denied, which is why she is but a lowly 15 seed.  That being said, this dress -- "important"  (which we occasionally feel is fashion-speak for  "ugly, but by a good designer") though it may be -- seems like something you'd have to be be talked into by a vigilant stylist armed with a bull-whip and a handful of tranquilizers:

I'm really not sure what all is going on in socialite Byrdie Bell's life.

But it appears to include a grueling gig playing Piper Perabo's long-lost cousin in Coyote Ugly 2: Coyote Uglier. Please fight the moonlight, Byrdie -- I think you really, really need to get some sleep. And perhaps a personal shopper.

(1) CHLOE SEVIGNY vs. (16) CAMERON DIAZ

Chloe is one of the founding inspirations for this site, having caused us to scratch our heads in confusion so many times it's a wonder we have any skin left up there. For instance, what is going on here?

It's a ... bra... strip... sheath. Yes! A BraStripSheath! Case closed! And yet, because she's cleaned up her act a little recently -- the above doozy notwithstanding -- we initially had Chloe at a No. 2 seed... right up until she made the catastrophic mistake of attaching both her name and her image to this line of clothing. Really, that's the most damning case against her, although if you peruse this exhaustive Chloe-themed archive, you'll assault your retinas with plenty more. Saddle up and wear some padded long johns under your jeans, because that is going to be a long and bumpy ride.

Cameron Diaz has come out of a period of relative success, in which she fearlessly deployed her best weapon against her Biel-banging ex: those mile-long muscular legs. The flip side, though, is that she often rests on her laurels with bad styling and worse makeup, often when it counts the most. Cam was sloppy at the Oscars -- twice, really -- and a little crazy-bridal at the Golden Globes, not to mention ripping an occasional page from The Ashlee Simpson Book of Inauthentic Punk.

And let's not forget that Chloe isn't the only one to have been inspired by the fashions of Donna Martin:

Reedy, seedy Kate Moss is still at it, designing clothes for British retailer Topshop, and through the mercy of the Interwebs we can pore over the new pieces in her line that will also be available stateside at Barneys. As far as we can tell, it's going to be great... if you like really ugly shirts:

Standout disasters in that vein include a blue “star print blouse” that we’re pretty sure Bea Arthur once wore on Maude, and a silk monochrome mess called a “clown frill long-sleeved top,” which is guaranteed to suck in all those ladies who’ve long dreamed of a gig making balloon animals at the Met Costume Institute Ball.

If you want to see a handful of pictures and read the rest of our take on Kate's continued foray into designing, check out the full article, "Dear Kate: Those Who Do Not Learn From A Topshop Line..."

Per usual, voting closes after about 24 hours; contestants should be judged on whose fug crimes are deemed most severe, based on a whole host of criteria and not merely the photo we've provided. After all, assessing a career's worth of fug is like opening a bag of potato chips: You can't eat just one.

(7) RENEE ZELLWEGER vs. (10) KATIE HOLMES

Mrs. Kat(i)e Holmes Cruise has been a fascinating makeover story in the past 12 months, which I guess is what the national spotlight and a massively enhanced clothing budget will do to a girl -- not to mention the friendship of one Posh Spice, which we hope is partly responsible for the disappearance of this disaster. She's evolved into the Queen of Fug or Fab, often taking chances that we can't quite decide if we love or hate -- or if it's some combination of the two. For instance, here, I'll take the bob but leave the dress. Or, love the bob AGAIN, but think the purse is big enough to fit her husband.

Or, love the bob YET AGAIN, but hate how this dress and her posture make it look like she had her arms lopped off and replaced with those of Yao Ming. The controversial toga, I rather enjoyed on her, but the sling, not so much. And then there's her husband, but that's enough for a whole other essay.

Renee Zellweger's candidacy, on the other hand, can be summed up almost entirely by one image:

(1) LINDSAY LOHAN              vs.      (16) COURTNEY PELDON

In which our intrepid play-in winner Courtney Peldon faces off against Fug's First Lady of the Leggings, Ms. Lindsay Lohan. While C. Peld's recent strong showing in Fug Madness's premiere game has some experts wondering if she could upset LiLo -- - and has certainly reminded us all that she's TOTALLY NUTBALL --  we must remind you, the voter, that Peldon hasn't really been out and about much recently. Leggings Lohan, on the other hand, has been running around in those trousers of evil for something like 73 days straight and has threatened to actually start selling them.  Also, she's capable of this:

Yes, that's a CROPPED SEQUINED REF'S JERSEY. She also once wore what we think is a bike chain tied around her head, appeared in public wearing PANTALOONS, and abused grammar severely. (We choose not to remind you of the fact that she pioneered the unfortunate trend of flashing her pantyless crotch at photographers, but you know it's true.) All that being said, we freaking love Lindsay, even if she is a total hot mess half the time and appears to be trying to actually kill us. Engendering that kind of emotion in people despite being someone who went through a long period of flashing copious side-tit (basically SFW, unless you're a nun) is kind of awesome. On the other hand, Courtney, in addition to all the fugly deliciousness showcased Tuesday, also owns this:

To the surprise of few -- not even Brown Peldon, we suspect -- Courtney Peldon prevailed in the play-in game by a margin that's larger than most of the pieces of fabric she wraps around her body. By capturing a whopping 92 percent of the vote, Courtney moves on and Brown Peldon is left to sit at home and contemplate where she went wrong. Did she need to try harder? Was she not committed enough to bra tops and loincloths and pleather boots? Was she too self-aware or not self-aware enough? These are the mysteries that will keep her awake on many sleepless nights ahead. Here's hoping they both have such a strong year -- or at least leave the house more often; shenanigans are sure to follow -- that they earn their own 2009 seedings outright.

Next up is a slate of Round 1 games on Thursday and Friday from all four brackets. Here are the seeds in action tomorrow:

(1) LINDSAY LOHAN              vs.      (16) COURTNEY PELDON

(4) RIHANNA                             vs.      (13) SANDRA OH

(5) FERGIE                                   vs.      (12) BRAD PITT

(8) NELLY FURTADO              vs         (9) PAULA ABDUL

(2) JENNIFER LOPEZ                      vs.  (15) NATALIE PORTMAN

(3) HELENA BONHAM CARTER  vs.  (14) KELLY OSBOURNE

(6) BEYONCE                                       vs.  (11) KYLIE MINOGUE

(7) JENNIFER CONNELLY            vs.  (10) LUCY LIU

(2) GWEN STEFANI             vs.   (15) BRITTANY MURPHY

(3) PARIS HILTON               vs.   (14) ELISHA CUTHBERT

(6) ALI LARTER                    vs.   (11) KIMBERLY STEWART

(7) RENEE ZELLWEGER     vs.   (10) KATIE HOLMES

(1) CHLOE SEVIGNY         vs.    (16) CAMERON DIAZ

(4) JESSICA SIMPSON      vs.    (13) PHOEBE PRICE

(5) ALICIA KEYS                vs.    (12) EVA LONGORIA

(8) DIANE KRUGER           vs.    (9) MARY-KATE OLSEN

Okay, so I think I've solved the mystery of who Aubrey O'Day's psychedelic stylist probably is.

Am I right? Who but Bobby Trendy would wedge a girl into something even Barbie herself would dismiss as "too froofy"? This is a man who I imagine has giant tulle dispensers on a wall in his closet and, right here, is wearing giant pot pourri sachets stapled to his shoulders. He is capable of anything.

GIRL NO. 1: Eat your heart out, Jamie-Lynn Spears! I'm not pregnant and I have FUNKY BANGS and I could totally play you in the Lifetime Television For Women movie about your struggles. Call me!

GIRL NO. 2: Admit it: You're wondering if I'm secretly a Kardashian, or maybe the little sister of Nicole Scherzinger, and you want to know more. Right? ... Right?

GIRL NO. 3: Look, it's very simple. I'm not allowed to be taller than these other fools, so they make me wear flats, and just as I was leaving the house, I noticed some weeding that needed to be done so I tied garbage bags around my feet to protect my shoes and then forgot to take them off and WHAT, COME ON, you've never DONE THAT? Freaks. You'd be better people if you gardened.

AUBREY O'DAY: I told my stylist that I wanted to look like the Fairy Queen of My Little Pony Island. And it WORKED! He is a genius.

GIRL NO. 5: Why am I even here? I am way too normal for these idiots.

GIRL NO. 1: Ooooh, or I could get with Nickelodeon! I could be the  new Zoey! Zoey 201! Pleeeeeease?

GIRL NO. 2: What people don't know is, the thing hanging on the front of my dress is actually a giant inflatable cocktail tray in the shape of a flower. Isn't that interesting? Aren't I interesting?!?

GIRL NO. 3: Well, my dress used to be somebody's Science Fair project about what happens when you put aluminum foil in the microwave.

AUBREY: I know people only know my name because they used to think I was a professional Paris Hilton impersonator and had to be corrected, but who cares? At least they know!  And after this, they will never forget. Drink it in, people!

GIRL NO. 5: Honey, Paris Hilton wouldn't wear that thing if she'd been sniffling glue for twelve hours. Seriously, I need to get out of here. I'm too normal. NUMBER FIVE IS ALIVE, bitches, and I'm totally going out alone. RIGHT NOW. By which I mean, after the open bar closes.

I just don't know anything anymore.

Is this good? Is this bad? Has Renee always used that accent over the second E in her name (Wikipedia says "yes," IMDb says "sometimes," I say, "huh, I never noticed")? Also, why is In Style using the same accent over the E in "decor"? I mean, if Elle Decor doesn't need an accent, why does In Style? Is it just to seem FANCY?! And why do I care? The real question is: does Renee look better than usual? That color is nice on her. But that haircut, it's excruciating still. Right? RIGHT?

DONATELLA VERSACE: I AM DONATELLA VERSACE!

LEIGHTON "BLAIR" MEESTER: I'm scared. But at least my dress is cute.

DONATELLA: YOU ARE DIVINE, BLAIR WALDORK.

LEIGHTON: It's..."Waldorf," actually, but I'm....my name is....thank you.

DONATELLA: WHY ARE YOU TRYING TO RUN FROM ME, BLAIR WALDOOF?

LEIGHTON: I'm not trying to go anywhere, Donatella.  I promise you. I'll do whatever you want.

DONATELLA: YOUR RIGHT FOOT IS OUT OF YOUR SHOE AS THROUGH YOU ARE THINKING ABOUT RUNNING FROM ME, BLAIR WALDOOM.

LEIGHTON: No, no, no. No! No. I am just...stretching my instep, Donatella. I swear.

DONATELLA: DON'T DISPLEASE ME, BLAIR WALDIME.

LEIGHTON: I would never! I promise.  I would never do anything to upset you.

DONATELLA: DO MY EXTENSIONS FRIGHTEN YOU, BLAIR WINGDING?

LEIGHTON:...do you want them to?

DONATELLA: BLAIR WAMU, DON'T YOU THINK I LOOK LIKE THE WORLD'S MOST HIGH-PRICED AND FEARED DOMINATRIX? IF SEXY AND EVIL HAD A BABY AND PAINTED IT WITH FURNITURE POLISH, WOULD IT BE ME?

LEIGHTON:...is that what you're going for? Because --

DONATELLA: I CAN'T LOOK AT YOU ANYMORE, BLAIR WALLBANGER. BRING ME THE HEAD OF CHUCK BASS.

As the day wears on, the end of PELDON VS. PELDON draws ever-nearer. If you aren't one of the 10,000-strong who've weighed in -- or your cookies expired and you want to vote again, or you're Lindsay Lohan and you're deathly afraid of having to face one of these girls so you want to mobilize an army to vote for the other one -- do it here, and do it now. Polls close tomorrow morning.

Okay, first of all: WHY ARE THERE SO MANY WORDS ON THIS COVER? I can't FOCUS. I apparently should be: crying at work; eating more; worrying about organic foods scamming me; worrying about my sister secretly being a porn star; trying twenty-five new beauty products in the hopes of changing my life; worrying if dudes secretly hate my outfits, leading to my -- it is implied -- dying alone and under a bookshelf; worrying also about what my look says about me; worrying about whether or not I am a snob about my boyfriend's job; running out and buying a spring dress (that my boyfriend, it seems, will secretly hate), strappy sandals and a big bag; ALL while wondering what the deal is with Kate Bosworth and her quarter-life crisis. That is a TALL ORDER, people. I have a lot going on. I can barely read those many words, much less concern myself with all of them. But most importantly, can we finally please call a stop to the Famously Skinny Starlet Looks Sexily Exhausted And Hungry-style cover? I can't imagine Kate Bosworth wants people to look at her on this cover and think, "man, she looks really stressed and mildly resentful."  Unless this photo is supposed to be representative of how she looked mid-quarter-life crisis: beautiful, but very unhappy to be photographed. In which case, well done.

[Photo: INF Daily]

"Why, hello! I didn't see you there. I just happened to be standing outside on the sidewalk here with my knitting, in boots made of recycled handbags from 2004 and what I shamefully must admit is actually a really kind of cute dress, reading! Just reading! It's fundamental. What am I reading? Oh, The Economist, I think. What? Wait! Oh, what is this? Is this Star Magazine? And I  --  I, Phoebe Price -- just happen to be featured on the page facing outward toward the camera? No! That's impossible. I thought I was reading The New Yorker. This is clearly a copy of The Atlantic Monthly! I'd NEVER stand around and pose with a picture of myself being shamed by the fashion police, just for more press. NEVER, I tell you! Never!"

This dress played a weird optical trick on me. I realize now that it's a complete garment, but on first glance I thought Kim was clutching a skirt to her pelvis while wearing one of those Extreme Plunge Corset Bras on the OUTSIDE of her top. I guess since I'm not entirely convinced Kim Kardashian is real -- like, I am hoping she's a figment of Hollywood's imagination, and that I will never have to come to terms with the fact that I not only know her name but that of her sisters, despite them having no demonstrable talents aside from walking around and having boobs -- then it's only appropriate that her clothes should seem like an alarming illusion as well.

If you have ever wondered from what vantage point Desperate Housewives' dead narrator Mary-Alice is doing all her observing and yapping and judging -- Heaven? Hell? -- then I may finally have the answer for you: neither. 

She appears to be in some kind of poorly climate-controlled divine limbo, where the shopping is terrible, Nine West only stocks shoe styles from 1995, and she is forced to relive the same Miami prep-school PTA meeting in perpetuity. I would mention the diabolical pants under that ill-fitting dress -- or is it a cocktail muumuu? -- but maybe they don't allow razors in Purgatory.

COURTNEY PELDON vs. BROWN PELDON

The Sisters Peldon (one of whom, as you'll see below, may not be a natural Brown after all) are pitted against each other in a quest to determine which more hopeless dresser wins the coveted No. 16 seed in the Cher bracket, and the ensuing right to mount a charge against No. 1 Lindsay Lohan and her relentless pursuit of more leggings. This is a clash between ladies after whom, as a unit, we named an entire chapter devoted to sibling fuggery in our book The Fug Awards because of their tendency to wear things like this to a charity event.

As far as we know the charity was not actually The International Society Of Out-Of-Work Wrestling Divas and Former American Gladiators.

Courtney, she of the purple sequined bra top up there, is the oft-overtanned and therefore crazy-faced sister we found first. She popped up at all manner of premieres and parties seemingly without any relevance, occasionally without pants, sometimes with awesomely chosen company, and generally in something frightening to behold. There were whispers of an engagement to Crispin Glover, then the disappearance of any kind of proof. And what is THIS?

Or this?

Little Bo Peep may have lost her sheep, but she appears to have found a few other things to play with instead. Initially, we were frightened by these antics, but quickly realized we'd be bereft without them. Oh, sweet Peldon: Original Flavor, to spend a day in your closet would be like skipping through Willy Wonka's candy paradise -- one unbelievable, credulity-defying sight after another, followed by the faintest concern someone had snuck us some acid.

I suppose it's only fitting that, after a horrendous, vitriolic, Wild-West-shootout of a split with Paul McCartney, Heather Mills would show up to finalize her divorce proceedings today in something a rodeo clown might wear to a job interview.

I believe those are very high-waisted and unflattering trousers under that multicolored vest. And under that multicolored JACKET, with lining that matches her shirt. It is a psychotically coordinated ensemble. In fact, it's what the awesome, murderous, cross-dressing She-Male on Passions -- whose outfits were always stitched together from one vertical half of a man's ensemble with one vertical half of a woman's, and who is currently torturing his mother into alcoholism by masquerading as a woman named Valerie who is having an AFFAIR with His-Her's FATHER and who is now, I kid you not, possibly PREGNANT WITH HIS-HER FATHER'S BABY -- would've worn to the opening of the She-Male Saloon in Deadwood. Unfortunately, I don't think Heather will get away with trying to spin this into a redemption arc by selling the tragic story of her stress-induced hysterical color blindness to Us Weekly, or by claiming she is a villainous mask-wearing He-She, so maybe she should just embrace this garish mess and check the job listings for actual openings in the exciting rodeo-clown industry. Or go ahead and open a She-Male Saloon.

All of which is deeply unfair to Heather Mills' totally awesome fake leg (well, except for that last thing; a She-Male Saloon would be fantastic). Poor Leg. It deserves so much better. Leg is undeniably cool -- a technological bad-ass that shows up to work day-in, day-out, and never complains about the fact that it's attached to someone who a) forced it and its specially fashioned cousin into participating on Dancing With The Stars, b) is generally considered to be an evil Beatle-bashing shrew, and c) shoves it into clothes from Petite Hobo Sophisticate.

We feel you, Leg. Our souls are torn, too, but we will never leave you. We are, as ever, the captains of Team Leg. If only money could buy class, we could rest assured the settlement will provide you with a more worthy wardrobe; as it is, we'll have to settle for hoping she takes you on a wicked vacation.

We're taking a break from frantically filling out our ACTUAL March Madness brackets to bring you a few important announcements and one SHOCKING REVELATION about our star-studded knockoff tournament.

1) The first round begins on Thursday with four matchups from each of the four brackets, with the rest taking place on Friday -- much like the glorious tournament on which it is based. Then Round Two will begin on Monday, March 24, and so on and so forth.

2) Here is a downloadable PDF of the full Fug Madness bracket, which has the dates of all the contests and which you can print and fill in as we go: Download Fug_Madness_bracket.pdf

3) Polls for each contest will be open for roughly 24 hours (as close as we can make it) from the time the post is published. Vote early, and if your browser allows, vote often.

4) This is the big one: As you know, Go Fug Yourself hasn't had comments in a long time, because a few rotten eggs spoiled it for all the good ones -- but because we're excited, and because we're high on bracketology, we've decided to reopen comments on a trial basis. Important note: It will ONLY be on Fug Madness posts, so that people can discuss their vote and the contest at hand they see fit. But this will not be without conditions.

• Please do NOT use this time to vent your spleen against the celebrity in question (that's what therapy is for) or the site itself (that's what e-mail is for, and Intern George has the typing blisters on his beautiful fingers to prove it).
• Keep it clean, keep it on-topic, keep it relevant. If all you want to do is say, "DIE, SLUTZ," well, that's not polite in English OR in German, so please don't.
• We reserve the right to edit or delete comments if they're not in the spirit of the contest, and/or are spoiling everyone else's fun.
• We will TOTALLY close the comments again FOREVER if this blows up into something awful. This is not our first rodeo with this; we have extreme reservations, but we've decided to give it a whirl anyway, so please don't make us regret it.

5) And now for the identity of the two celebrities dueling TOMORROW for the right to take on top-seeded Lindsay Lohan in the Cher bracket.

Drum roll, please...

Okay, I have a confession. You guys already know about my secret, shameful love of The Ghost Whisperer, but that's merely the tip of an iceberg called Embarrassing Things I Secretly Love, which also includes Flaming Hot Cheetos and the MacGruber skit on Saturday Night Live. This time, I must confess to you that I secretly love the low-rent city-centric magazines you get for free at the airport. Like this one:

(Las Vegas boasts like eleven of said magazines, all of which you can find in your hotel room and all of which also feature an interview with either Rita Rudner, Danny Gans, or Carrot Top.)  Anyway, while I generally prefer snagging these sorts of rags while on vacation, I haven't been to Vegas recently, so this little delight comes courtesy of an eagle-eyed reader who rightly noted that Gabrielle Union -- on whom I have a total crush, if you must know. She's really pretty! -- appears to be checking to make sure she shaved her armpits this morning. You know, in a really photogenic way, but still. What is this saying about the fine, fine city of Las Vegas? VEGAS: DON'T FORGET YOUR PITS! Or, VEGAS: DON'T WORRY! WE HAVE LOTS OF VENUS RAZORS IN OUR FINE HOTEL GIFT STORES! Or, VEGAS: HEY, RELAX. WE DON'T CARE ABOUT YOUR BODY HAIR. BUT YOUR RIGHT BOOB LOOKS LIKE IT MIGHT BE ABOUT TO POP OUT. THAT'S OKAY, TOO!  I guess, when it comes right down to it, all three of those things are true.

It's well documented that I love me some Friday Night Lights, and as such, I will always love Aimee Teegarden for being Julie Taylor. Oh, sure, that whole episode where Julie acted like a pill toward her baby sister, and then dumped Matt for that hideous "The Swede" character, was maddening -- but only because she's such a good kid, and I want her to be happy. She needs to get back on the QB1 train and help him get over the loss of his grandmother's hot nurse. Or hook up with Tim Riggins. I feel like that might be the solution to anything that ails ye -- just get loved up by Tim Riggins and EVERYTHING WILL BE FINE.

And maybe that would spill over into Aimee Teegarden cleaning out her closet and purging it of stuff like this.

While I'm sure the Dr. Scholls people are thrilled that she's wearing their arch-supporting, therapeutic, yet fugtastically soul-injuring sandals out in public, they are both a) awful, and b) an especially horrific match to this dress -- which, itself, looks as though it came from a catalog called So It's Your Third Wedding! that she found outside a David's Bridal. I know there's a lot of pressure to grow up fast in Hollywood, but honey, enjoy being young while you can. No need to rush into wearing clothes that generally only see the light of day at a ceremony where someone in the crowd snorts, "White? After TWO divorces? Who is she KIDDING?!"

Oh, Christina Milian (or, as I privately refer to you, "the girl whose name I regularly confabulate with Vanessa Minnillo's"):

Didn't you hear that only douchebags leave up the hood of their sleeveless, leather hoodies while they're inside? I mean, I guess it's possible that you were getting a pedicure, or making a sandwich, or being painted into your pants when that edict came down from The Grand High Poobah of Hoodie Rules and Regulations, but it's your responsibility to keep yourself apprised of these things.  As it is, you look sort of like Rocky, as interpreted by the contestants on The Pussycat Dolls Present the Search for the Next Quasi-Pussycat Dolls-esque Girl Group: Girlicious. I can only hope this means you will be performing "Eye of the Tiger" in vaguely off-key harmony with some other girls later in the evening.

LINDSAY LOHAN: Hi, I'm Lindsay Lohan

CLAUS HJELMBAK: And I'm Claus Hjelmbak. I throw parties. Or something like that. Wikipedia won't tell you, so don't look. But no matter what I do, you have to admit that "Claus Hjelmbak" is a very cool name.

LINDSAY: I'd like to direct your attention to my legs. There are no leggings on them.

CLAUS HJELMBAK: You'd never ever call me "Claus," if we were friends.  You would always refer to me as "Claus Hjelmbak." It's that kind of name.

LINDSAY: Also, I have managed to have a red-esque hair color for more than a week. Admit it: you're totally f'ing stoked about this.

CLAUS HJELMBAK: Claus Hjelmbak told Lindsay he didn't want to see any leggings at his party. None! And, for the record, Claus Hjelmbak doesn't believe that Lindsay is ACTUALLY coming out with a line of leggings.  Claus Hjelmbak thinks this is all going to turn out to be part of that new Ashton Kutcher show where celebrities place fake stories in the media so that people learn that the media runs fake stories, or whatever that show is ostensibly about, other than potentially making it even harder for PR people to create believable fake celebrity romances for press. Claus Hjelmbak doesn't believe any of it! Also, I have suddenly decided to speak in the third person. Let's all do that tonight! It'll be fun!

LINDSAY: You talk a lot. Can we just focus on the fact that I'm wearing a dress? And not my leggings? Or anyone's leggings? No leggings at all!

CLAUS HJELMBAK: Yeah. It's kind of a BORING dress, though.

LINDSAY: GOD. YOU GUYS ARE SO F'ING HARD TO PLEASE. WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME? I HATE EVERYONE. SERIOUSLY.

Whatever's going on with Mischa lately, at least she's in good spirits:

[Photo: Flynetonline.com]

And I almost think she pulled this off. My question is, what's with the stumpifying shoe choice? Has she recently developed a raging bunion problem? Because it takes a LOT to make Mischa Barton look short-legged and yet....here we are.

This photo was apparently taken at The American Museum of Natural History's Annual Winter Dance (capitalization theirs), the existence of which I deeply cherish, as it evokes so much as fond remembrances of college dances. I imagine the entire museum staff organizing themed drinks for their particular areas of expertise -- mustketinis, a Tequilasaurus Rex, etc. -- and figuring out who's renting the limo, where to eat dinner, who's bringing the funnel, and who's running over to the pre- and post-party hotel suite to fill up the bathtub with ice and beer cans.

It may also have been a costume party of some sort. That's the only explanation for Fox News personality Kimberly Guilfoyle-Villency's outfit:

She looks like she arrived dressed as a very rare North American Funereal Emu, and is taking a brief breather from wearing the top half of her costume because it's super hot and all the sweat is MURDER on her pores.

Wow. I knew, in the back of my mind, that Nicky Hilton had been looking skinnier and skinnier in the last few months, but it only hit me when I saw her arrive at the L.A. Fashion Week tents on Tuesday night to prep for her Nicholai By Nicky Hilton show.

[Photo: INFDaily]

Holy cats. I hope David Katzenberg has some Godivas and a steak hidden in that box, because, GIRL, no. Your show is behind you now, so please, do yourself a favor and dive into some sourdough.

(1) CHLOE SEVIGNY         vs.    (16) CAMERON DIAZ

(2) BAI LING                        vs.    (15) HILARY DUFF

(3) TARA REID                    vs.    (14) ASHLEY OLSEN

(4) JESSICA SIMPSON      vs.    (13) PHOEBE PRICE

(5) ALICIA KEYS                vs.    (12) EVA LONGORIA

(6) CATE BLANCHETT      vs.    (11) DANIEL DAY-LEWIS

(7) KELLY CLARKSON     vs.    (10) ASHLEE SIMPSON

(8) DIANE KRUGER           vs.    (9) MARY-KATE OLSEN

Oh, man. This final bracket is just chock-full of crazy. Chloe Sevigny propelled herself into one seed on the strength of her mad terrible collection for Opening Ceremony, but can she make past all these other fools into the final game? Sure, that seems like a slam dunk, but then you remember that Bai Ling never wears pants and Tara Reid... is Tara Reid. This bracket also features a very strong upset possibility in the personage of Phoebe Price, whom we suspect may go further than any of us truly will find at all comfortable.  Dear God, what if she wins the whole thing? Can we live with that? And who isn't looking forward to seeing Oscar Winner Cate Blanchett versus Oscar Winner and Homemade Shoe Enthusiast Daniel Day-Lewis? We're also shoe-horned both our fugly sibling pairs into this bracket, in the hopes of containing their genetic material. It probably won't work.

And thus concludes Selection Friday. Monday, we'll be posting some basic rules (a huge, complex list of... like, two) and a complete, printable bracket so you can play along at home (or, let's be honest here: your office). Voting begins on Tuesday, and really gets going Thursday and Friday!  The trash-talking, however, can start now.

Reminder: Please don't freak out if your favorite -- or least-favorite -- Fug Hound didn't make the list. Sometimes we had to consider how much they've been in rotation lately, whether they've made leaps and bounds in their style, whether there was an extenuating circumstance (like pregnancy or potential mental illness, which accounts for our total lack of Britney; may she get well soon so that she can claim her rightful top seed in 2009), or whether we completely forgot they existed. Hey, it happens. Just kick back, enjoy the games, and imagine that your missing favorite is out there somewhere playing in the Fug NIT, leading the charge of the also-rans and praying for a more auspicious and publicly terrible year to come.

(1) MISCHA BARTON          vs.   (16) KRISTIN BELL

(2) GWEN STEFANI             vs.   (15) BRITTANY MURPHY

(3) PARIS HILTON               vs.   (14) ELISHA CUTHBERT

(4) NICOLE KIDMAN          vs.   (13) EVA GREEN

(5) TYRA BANKS                  vs.   (12) SPENCER & HEIDI

(6) ALI LARTER                    vs.   (11) KIMBERLY STEWART

(7) RENEE ZELLWEGER     vs.   (10) KATIE HOLMES

(8) TILDA SWINTON           vs.   (9) KEVIN FEDERLINE

This is a strong Top Four, assuming they all squeak through unmolested to face off with each other in Round Three -- Eva Green poses a real threat to Nicole Kidman up there, because she can really come at you with an aggressive full-court press and some invasive man-to-man defense. By which I mean, Eva Green CRAZY. Our favorite game, though, will be the epic clash between Tilda Swinton and Kevin Federline, two people we never thought we'd see inhabiting the same space (so we're thrilled to have made it happen first). So tight is this match that, in fact, we are pretty sure Tilda would borrow some of Kevin's suits if he offered them. If only we could run this one over and over again; it's possible the outcome would be different every time. Consider us on the edges of our seats.

Reminder: Please don't freak out if your favorite -- or least-favorite -- Fug Hound didn't make the list. Sometimes we had to consider how much they've been in rotation lately, whether they've made leaps and bounds in their style, whether there was an extenuating circumstance (like pregnancy or potential mental illness, which accounts for our total lack of Britney; may she get well soon so that she can claim her rightful top seed in 2009), or whether we completely forgot they existed. Hey, it happens. Just kick back, enjoy the games, and imagine that your missing favorite is out there somewhere playing in the Fug NIT, leading the charge of the also-rans and praying for a more auspicious and publicly terrible year to come.

(1) POSH                                                vs.  (16) KATE BOSWORTH 

(2) JENNIFER LOPEZ                      vs.  (15) NATALIE PORTMAN

(3) HELENA BONHAM CARTER  vs.  (14) KELLY OSBOURNE

(4) KATE MOSS                                   vs.  (13) JOHNNY DEPP

(5) SIENNA MILLER                        vs.  (12) SARAH MICHELLE GELLAR

(6) BEYONCE                                       vs.  (11) KYLIE MINOGUE

(7) JENNIFER CONNELLY            vs.  (10) LUCY LIU

(8) MELISSA GEORGE                      vs.  (9) JOSS STONE

Posh sits like a queen atop a bracket with quite a few Brits in it and two Aussies, to boot. The potential late-round upset special here is Helena Bonham Carter, owner of a personal style so haphazard and vagrant-esque that we're pretty sure she might let wackadoo husband Tim Burton pick out all her clothes. However, this bracket also dangles the carrot of a Round Two matchup between doppelgangers Sienna Miller and Kate Moss -- if Kate can get past her ex-boyfriend, who, while clearly smoking hot, occasionally dresses like he's homeless. Oh, come on, don't get upset. You know it's true.

Reminder: Please don't freak out if your favorite -- or least-favorite -- Fug Hound didn't make the list. Sometimes we had to consider how much they've been in rotation lately, whether they've made leaps and bounds in their style, whether there was an extenuating circumstance (like pregnancy or potential mental illness, which accounts for our total lack of Britney; may she get well soon so that she can claim her rightful top seed in 2009), or whether we completely forgot they existed. Hey, it happens. Just kick back, enjoy the games, and imagine that your missing favorite is out there somewhere playing in the Fug NIT, leading the charge of the also-rans and praying for a more auspicious and publicly terrible year to come.

(1) LINDSAY LOHAN              vs.      (16) PLAY-IN WINNER (Tues., March 18)

(2) SHARON STONE                 vs.      (15) EMMA WATSON

(3) KEIRA KNIGHTLEY          vs.     (14) NATASHA BEDINGFIELD

(4) RIHANNA                             vs.      (13) SANDRA OH

(5) FERGIE                                   vs.      (12) BRAD PITT

(6) KIRSTEN DUNST                vs.      (11) JULIETTE LEWIS

(7) SCARLETT JOHANSSON vs       (10) JENNIFER LOVE HEWITT

(8) NELLY FURTADO              vs         (9) PAULA ABDUL

Welcome, dear readers, to Fug Madness! Today, we'll be revealing the fugly celebrities who will be battling it out fug-a-fug to determine which of them is truly the most stylistically challenged of all -- and who they're gonna have to mow down in order to win this dubious title.  Like the NCAA basketball tournament, we've placed our contestants in four brackets (it goes without saying that, one day, we hope to convince the NCAA to join us in the move away from regional brackets and into ones named after famous, one-named, crazy-dressed celebrities).  This first bracket is blessed to feature the winner of our play-in game,  in which the two absolute lowest-seeded celebrities alive are forced to battle it out just for the honor of being in the tourney. You'll see who those two sad clowns are on Monday. We're also looking at a very strong one seed in Lindsay "I'm Coming Out With a Line of Leggings" Lohan, who we think may be a strong bet to win the whole thing. We've also got a potential spoiler in one Miss Juliette Lewis, and we'd be lying if we didn't admit that we'd be amused if she and ex-boyfriend Brad Pitt made identical improbable, spoiler-y runs to meet up in the Elite Eight.  It's more likely, of course, that the Elite Eight will instead see Lindsay face off --- at last! -- with batshit crazy fur lover, Sharon Stone. We suspect we could sell tickets to that fight.

Reminder: Please don't freak out if your favorite -- or least-favorite -- Fug Hound didn't make the list. Sometimes we had to consider how much they've been in rotation lately, whether they've made leaps and bounds in their style, whether there was an extenuating circumstance (like pregnancy or potential mental illness, which accounts for our total lack of Britney; may she get well soon so that she can claim her rightful top seed in 2009), or whether we completely forgot they existed. Hey, it happens. Just kick back, enjoy the games, and imagine that your missing favorite is out there somewhere playing in the Fug NIT, leading the charge of the also-rans and praying for a more auspicious and publicly terrible year to come.

[Photo: Splash News]

PARKER: Hi, Lauren.

LAUREN: Hi, Parker. What've you been up to?

PARKER: Napping in the bathroom. You?

LAUREN: Farming, mostly.

PARKER: That's nice. So how about that show we're on?

LAUREN: Yep. That show. The Return of Jezebel Something.

PARKER: Jones.

LAUREN: Or is it James? It's James.

PARKER: Sure, if you want.

LAUREN: It's premiering soon.

PARKER: It's going to be...

LAUREN: Uh-huh. I feel very...

PARKER: Yeah.

LAUREN: Yep.

PARKER: Full of so many feelings.

LAUREN: Right.

By now, we all know Vanessa L. Williams has a massively hot bod. It's not like she needs to wear skintight stuff all the time to prove anything to anyone; we can't even believe she had to put the L. in her name, like she is some kind of secondary and imitative Vanessa Williams who is trying to usurp the life of the one who was in Melrose Place for about three hours.

That said, I feel like this dress could benefit from a little more judicious tailoring.

[Photos: Splash News]

Not very flattering, right? She looks slouchy, and almost a little pregnant. And the ultra-foxy Vanessa "Screw the L." Williams deserves better than a gunmetal sack. She should box it up, send it to Angelina Jolie with a card and maybe a nice ham, and go shopping for something that does her assets more justice. It's what Wilhelmina Slater would do. ... Well, actually, Wilhelmina would have the designer bitch-slapped, burn the dress, scatter the ashes on Betty's lunch, and go get a seaweed wrap. But the underlying sentiment is the same.

Psst, Raven-Symone:

[Photo: Flynetonline.com]

You're not wearing any pants. I know, I know: embarrassing. But this sort of thing happens to everyone. You know, you're running late, you can't find your keys, you forget your pants. It HAPPENS. Calm down. I bet we could steal this tablecloth and make it into a sarong or something. It's LA Fashion Week. I promise you,  no one will even notice.

For those who haven't read it, Confessions of a Shopaholic is the first in a series of increasingly annoying books about a pretty darn irritatingly stupid girl for whom things seem to work out beautifully despite the fact that she never learns her damn lesson in a lasting way. It'd be sort of like if Helen Fielding had kept writing Bridget Jones books, where she kept finding new and maddeningly idiotic ways to screw up her relationship with Mark Darcy over and over again, and then got him back again no matter what. Makes it kind of hard to root for the heroines long-term, because all you want to do is smack them upside the head and be all, "STOP IT! AAAAAAARRRRGH." Emphasis on the aaaaaaarrrrgh.

Anyway, so they're making a movie of Shopaholic, starring Isla Fisher, and this is from the shoot:

[Photo: Splash News]

I know it's a costume, and for all I know, this and then ensuing part where she falls into Hugh Dancy's arms (often while wearing Uggs and jeans under this ensemble, presumably because she's only shooting close-ups half the time) is a dream sequence of some kind. But the skirt reminds me of those tissue-paper flowers that crafty types like my sister used to make and attach to wire "stems" back in, like, 1987. Flip Isla upside-down, and she's a dead ringer for the pencil cup full of fake blooms that sat on my sis's desk, in a pencil cup she'd probably personalized with paint pens.

Also, with the hot pink dress and tulle, the feathered purse, the animal-print fur, the gloves... I feel like this movie is under the impression that Rebecca Bloomwood is some kind of replacement for Carrie Bradshaw, and will try to push it as such. Like, stick Sarah Jessica Parker's head on this photo, and you'd think you were looking at a still from Sex and the City. And you, Confessions of a Shopaholic, are no Sex and the City. As someone who finds the chronicle of Rebecca Bloomwood's fictional life somewhat insufferable, looking at these photos aren't doing anything to make me think the movie will be any less annoying. If she'd made her dress out of ACTUAL tissue-paper flowers as a cost-saving measure, maybe, but otherwise, I just want to cut up her credit cards and scream that her mad-spendy, lying antics are NOT HELPING ANYTHING.

The pros: well, she looks really happy. The color's not terrible on her. It certainly ain't boring.

The cons:  those appear to be sock/gloves, I think that's aluminum foil, and I am concerned this whole thing may be constructed from cupcake liners.

Another pro: who doesn't like cupcakes?

March brings with it many delightful things: longer hours of daylight, delicious Girl Scout cookies, and -- most importantly -- the glorious drama and excitement that comes with the NCAA college basketball tournament. There is nothing we love more, except perhaps making fun of celebrities' outfits, than following each of the tourney's 64 teams (65, if you count the play-in game, AND WE DO) as they shoot and score their way through six rounds of games on the way to being crowned the best college basketball team in America. 

Which is where Fug Madness comes in, a little something we'd planned before loads of other people got bitten by the bracketology bug also, but that will not deter us. Imagine if this Web site somehow managed to take the Tournament out for drinks and they both ended up getting really drunk and finally admitted to each other that -- damn it! -- they're in love with each other. And always have been!  Cut to a bear skin rug and a roaring fire, and nine months later, Fug Madness arrives.

This is the way it works: The Official Fug Madness Selection Committee -- otherwise known as me, Heather, and Intern George --has chosen 65 of the celebrity world's most sartorially misguided individuals.  Just like the basketball tournament, we've placed each celeb in one of four regions, and seeded them from 16 (super unlikely to actually win this thing) to 1 (a superstar of fug, and possibly the fugliest celebrity in the world). We even tried to take into account mid-majors, a.k.a., those teams/celebrities that could win their respective conferences but won't place much higher than 12 or 13 in the tournament because they're not really that well-known. And then we make them fight it out through several rounds of head-to-head, fug-on-fug competition to determine who is the Fugliest of Them All.

Who chooses the winner of each round, I hear you asking?  You do, through the magic of polls. The Madness will stretch over the next several weeks, in step with the basketball tournament, and we can't wait to see who you guys decide is the Fugliest Celebrity In All The Land. We'll be announcing the celebrities in play over the next couple of days, and the first game -- a play-in game between Fugly Celebrity 64 and 65 -- kicks off on Tuesday, March 18th. And to make it easier for you to see how things are progressing, we'll have a bracket up on the site that you can download and print, with the 65 celebs in their respective  berths.

So warm up your poll-voting-finger, toss some beer in the fridge, and practice your trash-talking. Fug Madness is here for you.

Last night, Heather and I went to Lauren Conrad's fashion show at Los Angeles Fashion Week. We truly went into the tents expecting the clothes to be cute. You know, in the way where we'd buy one of the dresses, and then people would be all, "that is cute!" and we'd sort of whisper, "I know! It's Lauren Conrad," and then the other person would be all "REALLY? No kidding!" and we'd be all, "I know! Who knew?" and then they'd say, "I kind of like her," and we'd be like, "I know, me too." And then we'd have drinks.

Sadly, it was not to be, as we share with the readers of NYMag.com, and, of course, with you:

Let’s just say…there were berets involved, and, overall, the collection was sadly kind of tragique.

Oh, Lauren. First you have all that drama with Heidi and now this. Will you EVER WIN?

In a massive surprise to exactly no one, I'm not a huge fan of corset-jumpsuits.

So just IMAGINE how I feel about a pantsuit that's supposed to APPROXIMATE the experience of wearing a corset-jumpsuit with a white shirt underneath. Why does anyone want to have that experience in the first place, much less fake it? Suffice it to say that my jaw hung wide open for a few minutes as I tried to decipher this outfit, and with my TMJ, that's no easy feat. Now it aches. My dentist will be so MAD at Roberta for this.

Do you think Kate Moss ever wakes up in the morning and rolls over in bed, clutching her aching head, and thinks, "oh, HELL. Did I really go out last night wearing a fur stole as a baby sling?"

[Photo: Splash News]

Yes, Kate, you did.

I feel like Whitney Port, being the one person on The Hills who may have been legitimately employed in the fashion industry even if just for a short time, must feel some pressure to Be That Girl out in public. You know, the one who always has something slightly left-of-center going on with her outfit, as if to suggest at very well hidden avant-garde depths.

But I wish she'd throw these shoes back into the sludgy pit whence they came.

At first I thought those were black high-top sneakers. That was bad enough. But in reality... oh, cold, cruel reality.

NICKY: So, my fashion show is toni --

PARIS: HEY! HELLO! TAKE MY PICTURE!

NICKY: Hey! I look cute back here, and I'm, you know, the designer, so maybe you might want to have me in the forefront of --

PARIS: How is that angle? Is that angle working for me? Do I pop in this red? I really do, don't I?

NICKY: Um....hello? Do I have to just...strike a pose at random back here? Do I have to remind everyone that this is my night! IT'S MY NIGH --

PARIS: Don't you just LOOOOVE my half-gloves? I know it's like 90 degrees today and it's March and it's Los Angeles, and even Lindsay Lohan tossed these out at some point in January, but I thought I should support my sister by showing up wearing the most plentiful and obnoxious accessories available so that people would be looking at ME in case the clothes were like really terrible and ugly. I was going to wear those crazy-ass Kanye West venetian-blinds-style sunglasses, but I accidentally drove over them with my car on the way here, along with Benji's foot. WHOOPSIE!

NICKY: I would LIKE IT if someone would, for once, pay attention to m--

PARIS: I'm also planning on wearing this red to her wedding one day. DON'T TELL.

NICKY: I'm planning on killing her one day. Don't tell. Oh, wait: no one is listening to me anyway.

All right, I suppose if you have seen The Texas Chainsaw Massacre or Hostel: Part II, then actress Lauren German technically is not random to you (assuming you could see anything through the blood). And presumably, since she got invited to LA Fashion Week, she's a familiar face to the good people at Mercedes Benz as well.

She also seems to be on a first-name basis with the entire staff at Nordstrom's juniors department.

I hear they have developed a sport out of throwing any old thing over her dressing-room door and awarding a bonus to the salesperson who convinces her to buy the dumbest ensemble. This one, prominently featuring pants that I'm pretty sure my friend Becky wore to sleep over at my house when we were in fifth grade, has to have been worth at least a $50 prize to one such cruel genius. I guess Lauren is milking the ten months she has left in her twenties, but seriously, even my nine-year old friend did better with those things -- and this was at a time when we were madly, blindingly in love with the lead singer of a-ha, wore a minimum of two Swatches at once, and wrote things like, "Stay sweet! Have a great summer and I'll see you next year! BFF 4EVA!" in each other's yearbooks. I am not sure what Lauren's excuse is.

JUSTIN: This... is awkward. I don't want to scare anyone, but Madonna isn't wearing pants.

IGGY: WELCOME TO THE 80s, PAL. And the 90s, actually. Would anyone like a nibble? This is PRIME BEEF. I am a FLESH MACHINE.

MADONNA: The hair works, right? Katherine Heigl's been doing this hair, and she's young. So it must make ME look young.

JUSTIN: It was MEANT to be transparent, right? Am I supposed to look? And LIKE IT? I mean, I haven't seen her since she made out with Britney at the VMAs and then asked me about tricep dips. I don't want to go back to that conversation. Especially not with her looking like a zombie.

IGGY: Just let it all hang out, bro. Holy hell, this feels good. I'm lusting for life all over again. Don't you just want to sink your teeth into this fresh meat?  I'll trade someone! Madonna looks a bit gamey, but that kid down the end might taste just right.

MADONNA: And the arms, they work, right? Young people have great arms. Justin probably has awesome arms. He's kind of my inspiration, actually. God, I just want to use my fearsome guns to tear off his young flesh and eat it.

JUSTIN: I don't know why, but I'm suddenly afraid that Madonna is going to use her fearsome guns to tear off my young flesh and eat it.

IGGY: I wonder what it'd taste like if I used Madonna's fearsome guns to tear off that kid's young flesh and eat it.

MADONNA: Also, I mean, my FACE looks pretty young. I wonder if anyone will notice that my eyes look different, and that I'm taking makeup tips from Hilary Duff. She's young. It's good, right? It must be. I'm ageless. I'm wearing a see-through pinafore with hot pants and J.Lo boots and my arms would scare Popeye and my hair is totally Modern-Day Marilyn and I LOOK YOUNG. BECAUSE I ALWAYS WILL BE.

IGGY: Could someone pass me the salt?

JUSTIN: Are we done here? Please, Jesus, can we be done here?

I just wanted you guys to know that Randy Jackson is going around wearing an ascot:

I thought you should just be made aware of this.  That's all.

Also, that during Fashion Week, one morning I woke up and called Heather and said, "Heather, I just had the WEIRDEST DREAM, that there was this TV show called Randy Jackson Presents America' s Best Dance Crew, and AC Slater was the host! And JC Chasez was like the Simon Cowell of the show! And Randy Jackson was NEVER ON IT AT ALL.  And there was one dance team that was ALL ON ROLLER SKATES!" And she was like, "Yeah, that actually happened."

And the even crazier thing is that last week, while I was sick, I ended up watching like seven episodes of Randy Jackson Has Nothing To Do With These Dance Crews, and I got totally sucked into it to the point that my old school secret crush on JC is back, just like he never went through that awkward period where he had a quasi-mullet and was engaged to Tara Reid.

All of which -- up to and including the lingering Theraflu -- means I'm feeling a bit more charitable about the ascot than I might otherwise.  (Must resist making "He's doing his thing, dawg," joke. Must resist!)

But not enough to refrain from, you know, just letting you know that he's out and about in this. Just in case you were wondering what he was up to.

We've gotten several emails about this cover, but I have to admit that when I got it in the mail the other day, I didn't really think much of it, other than, "The orange and pink together is SO Lucky. Is that Hilary Duff? I wonder what she's been up to. Do we have any ice cream?" Now that I look at it more closely, of course, I must concur with the kind reader who pointed out that her lipstick appears to be a new shade from Revlon called Dead Like Me. As for the rest of it, well...what do you think?

In case you were wondering what Frequent Fug Offender Phoebe Price was up to:

I like the idea that she's maybe stalking Juliette Lewis in hopes of joining Juliette's wildly be-legginged punk band. Or maybe this adorable little personage on the front of her frock is the latest effort from one of those low-rent, non-Disney, non-Pixar animation houses who release endless DVDs about princesses, mermaids and mermaid-princesses in the hopes of getting sleep-deprived parents to accidentally buy one of them at Target, and she's rented out her chest to them as ad space. Next week, maybe her entire body will be covered in ads, like those cars you see slowly weaving down Hollywood Boulevard completely wrapped in informational material about the girls at Spearment Rhino.

EVANNA LYNCH: D'you like my dress? I made it out of my grandfather's pants.

EMMA WATSON: It's lovely. I made mine out of toilet paper and sewed a giant garter to the bottom. Although I still look sort of pretty in it, even if it is baggy.

KATIE LEUNG: Yeah, but where you blew it is the shoes.

EVANNA: Wow, you really did.

EMMA: What? Look who's talking! You both whiffed!

KATIE: At least my feet don't look BANDAGED, Emma. Did you break both your ankles last night?

EMMA: Says the girl in orthopedic jazz shoes. Are those from the nursing home's theater department?

KATIE: Yes, the same place where you learned to ACT.

EMMA: OH YEAH? Well... um... at least my hair looks good!

EVANNA: BORING. You could at least try some accessories sometime.

KATIE: Maybe we need to stop squabbling and hire some stylists.

EMMA: Maybe Helena Bonham-Carter can recommend one.

EVANNA: Er... let's try asking someone else first.

KATIE: Who, though?

EVANNA: ANYONE. Well, except Rupert.

KATIE: Maggie Smith!

EMMA: Aha, is THAT who you borrowed those shoes from?

EVANNA: Oh, forget it, this is never going to work.

I used to believe that Catherine Zeta Jones could wear a barrel to an event and get away with it.

But since she can't even pull off an Ikea bedspread, I'm beginning to second-guess myself.

But she looks so happy!

And I'm so happy she's so happy. However, I'm less happy about having concrete proof that people are actually wearing bloomers, which I believe I last saw dangling from the end of my left hand at Urban Outfitters, while I myself was wearing a disdainful sneer.  On the other hand, I am THRILLED she decided that hot pink leggings were the way to go, because I know that while there are 34-year old women who still believe in the flattering properties of the leggings they once wore to a JEM and the Holograms-themed roller-skating party in fifth grade, I will always have a job.

How fun! A hayride! Pack your Claritin and some pepper spray, though, and be back before grandma pulls the meatloaf out of the oven or else you're gonna be SO GROUNDED.

Over the last few years or so, something interesting has happened: I have started to like Mariah Carey. I don't know why. I think I must find her amusing or something. It certainly helps that her most recent video features Kenneth the Page from 30 Rock.  And EVERYTHING is better with some Kenneth the Page mixed in. In fact, I think this cover could have used some Kenneth:

WILLIAM H. MACY: There, there, honey.

FELICITY HUFFMAN: WHATEVER.

MACY: You knew the strike was going to end eventually and you'd have to go back to work.

HUFFMAN: BUT WHY? Things were going so well in my new career.

MACY: Because you have a contract. You're an ACTOR, kid.

HUFFMAN: I'M A P.I.

MACY: You thought you might become a P.I. if the strike dragged into a second year. You didn't even get any cases this time, remember?

HUFFMAN: Marcia asked me to investigate that thing for her!

MACY: She asked you to take a look at a mole on her back.

HUFFMAN: IT'S A START.

MACY: There, there. If I allow you to keep wearing your fedora-esque hat --

HUFFMAN: MY SUMMER-WEIGHT P.I. CHAPEAU, IF YOU DON'T MIND.

MACY: Okay, if I allow you to keep wearing your summer-weight P.I chapeau and trench coat, will you please go back to Desperate Housewives? We've got a mortgage remember?

HUFFMAN: Can I at least bring a hip flask?

MACY: I would encourage it.

In life, I hate vertical blinds. But on Charlize Theron, I think I can live with them.

It's an odd concept for a dress: The top is sort of half-window treatment, half-binder, and from the hips down it looks like someone shredded a piece of that old computer paper that had the perforated strip of holes running down both sides. And yet, I like it. There's something cool about it. And while I suspect that something cool might be the six-foot-infinity blonde around whom it's wrapped, it might also be that there's a weird aura of Interpretive Body Armor about it. Like she's some kind of fashion warrior. If vertical blinds looked that funky on their own, I'd be living in an entire den of them.

Call me crazy, but I feel like there comes a point in a woman's life where she needs to put away unflattering droopy-diaper shorts and freakishly low-cut corset-esque sports bras and move on. Even if that woman IS Madonna.

Many moons ago, Heather and I wrote for Television Without Pity -- in fact, it's how we met! And every year, some old friends from those halcyon days have come together for a very good cause: Dewey Donation System, which is essentially a book drive for libraries in need of children's books. (You KNOW how we feel about a good book drive: very strongly in favor.)

We encourage y'all to check it out -- and not only because they are giving away two autographed copies of The Fug Awards, one today and one tomorrow, to random donors who give on those days.

The Dewey drive ends March 12, so donate while you still can; click here for other donation incentives they're offering. There's even an auction for the chance to visit the Samantha Who? set. But isn't the satisfaction of putting a good story in the hands of needy kids the only prize you need?

Sure, it's cold and flu season, but it's the Sling Dress that is spreading like a virus.

Lucy Liu downplayed the drapery by adding dramatic, attention-grabbing gloves that made the whole thing dominatrix-cool, like if you misbehaved, she'd stuff you into that sling and leave you for dead. Then Katie Holmes came along and picked a more sedate pattern, giving off a a whiff of, 'This is where Tom goes during naptime," with the added possibility that the giant pouch-pocket is where she keeps her spare battery.

And now here's Amber Heard, formerly of Hidden Palms and currently of this Never Back Down movie about an underground fight club (which also stars Djimon Hounsou, no doubt turning in his best work since he rocked our socks as Nightclub Doorman in the 90210 pilot, when he let Brenda in so she could get hit on by Maxwell Caulfield, but rejected Kelly Taylor's fake ID). Amber's gone back to Lucy Liu's retina-searing version, paired it with plasticky shoes that look like bibs for her ankles, and evokes nothing so much as a jaded member of the Homecoming Court who picked the dress because it gives her a place to hide her flask. And probably also a bundle of clothes belonging to the school bully, whom she will later trick into the showers and then leave in there, shivering and naked, while she absconds with his suit and returns to the party. The third time is supposed to be the charm, but in this case, I think it's actually my least favorite. Please don't let there be a fourth.

Whoa:

Nothing against famous designer, daughter, and hater of the one-legged Stella McCartney -- she's fabulous, I'm sure, and lovely -- but I'm not nearly as sure that Rachel McAdams was intentionally going for the Stella McCartney's Less Tanned Twin Sister look last night.  I mean, I actually thought she WAS Stella until I saw the larger pic.

Speaking of:

It's always a sad day when you wake up and realize....there is no more Project Runway to be had. Not for God knows how long. How are you supposed to deal with that? American Idol does not feature a gorgeously-banged German supermodel, no matter what Paula claims. On the other hand, the finale last night might have been maybe a little....well, a wee bit dull. In the second of this week's one-two punch for NY Mag.com, we muse that:

It might have worked if Chris March had donned a mask and made a second collection in the basement of Parsons and then haunted Bryant Park. And kidnapped Posh.

I think you'll agree we have a point.  We know you're hungover from last night's pitcher of Tim Gunn-tinis, but once you wipe the sleep from your eyes and feel human again,  read the rest of our take on the Project Runway finale on The Cut.

What was Shannon Elizabeth doing, going shopping in my childhood without asking me?

Seven-Year-Old-Me is FURIOUS that Shannon stole my parents' oriental rug without asking, because that was MY special cape for my eventual and inevitable coronation and now she's on the verge of RUINING EVERYTHING. If there is no time to get it cleaned before that day arrives, she will be exiled from Seven-Year-Old-Me's kingdom immediately and all her movies will be buried. Which... okay, that part actually might be kind of a relief.

I get that Minnie Driver, being pregnant, wants to be comfortable. And when she's running out to the market or off to lamaze class, this would be just dandy.

But, come on -- for a red-carpet movie screening, she can't do better than to dress like a mid-nineties Reality Bites version of Juno MacGuff? Really? For one thing, it makes Minnie look three feet tall when in fact her IMDb page swears she's 5'10", and for another, Janeane Garofalo might be very possessive of that look and I wouldn't want to cross her. She seems like she'd cut a bitch. With WORDS.

Thank the sweet heavens above that we have finally reached the glamorous dawn of  Project Runway Finale Day. In keeping with glorious tradition (er, sort of; we've done this once before), Heather and I set odds on the winner for NY Mag.com:

Jillian Lewis: 25-1. Jillian is certainly talented, but the problem with her collection is the same problem we had with her as a contestant: SNORE. She's possibly the first robot ever to make it on to a competitive reality show.

See what else we had to say about that little cyborg, and her competitors Rami and Christian on NYMag.com's The Cut.

Author David McCullough attended the recent premiere of HBO's movie based on his biography of John Adams, adapted for the TV by scribe Kirk Ellis.

This is their story.

KIRK: I can't believe you.

DAVID: Oh, come now, Kirk, it's not that bad.

KIRK: DON'T TOUCH ME. You said you were going to do it too. You SAID. I HAVE WITNESSES.

DAVID: Kirk, we were just joking around. Laura Linney said she was going to show up having spent the week observing 1700s standards of personal hygiene, and you don't see her stinking up the joint, do you?

KIRK: This is DIFFERENT. We were in this together. "We should wear costumes that pay homage to John Adams," I said. And you VERY CLEARLY REPLIED, "Yeah, I'm pretty sure I still have some pantaloons, a jacket, and an ascot lying around the house from my prom."

DAVID: Do you really think I'm that old?

KIRK: I DON'T KNOW YOUR LIFE.

DAVID: Listen, just smile and have a good time. It's sort of... cute... that you did it anyway, you know? It shows a lot of enthusiasm.

KIRK: I don't know when I will be able to look at you again.

[Photo: Flynetonline.com]

"Why did that kid  just tell me he loved Dukes of Hazzard? Was he implying I ought to be wearing short-shorts? I'm so confused. Ever since I got my hair cut, people have been acting SO WEIRD. Like that girl at Cost Plus yesterday who told me she thought my sister was way more talented than I am.  I thought maybe my sister put her up to it, but how would she have pulled that off...?  She didn't know I was going to buy another set of woven seagrass wastebaskets today. And then there was that dude at the gas station this morning who told me to say hello to Tony....who the hell is Tony? Does he think T.R's name is actually Tony? IS T.R's name actually Tony? I better check. Then there was that old lady who told me I never should have let Nick go....who is NICK? What is going ON around here? I need a cigarette."

Oh, Lindsay.

Can ANYONE wear a skirt covered in traffic signs without prompting snarky, 8th-grade level cracks from the peanut gallery? Both "One Hour Parking By Permit Only" and "Two Way Traffic" are hilarious messages to have splashed across your junk, if you're playing to the juvenile (as I always am). I can only hope that such roadside hits as "Stop," "No Right on Red,"and "Slow Children At Play" make an appearance on her butt.

All of yesterday, we assumed we'd just been hallucinating -- that our elevated temperatures and wilting brains had invented the horrors of Chloe Sevigny's new collection for Opening Ceremony. Surely it was too absurd to be real, we figured, or they were prank photographs. I mean, she's a fashion nutjob, but she's not THAT off her tree any more, is she?

Well... apparently we are too trusting. Not only is this real, but it's Ultimate Fug. It's borne of the bowels of fug, rolled in a crispy fug coating, and deep fried in fugpura batter.

Unless your name is Tawny Kitaen, and/or you're working on your Rock Of Love audition tape for the inevitable next season, you have no business wearing this.

All of the photos, and outfits, look oddly like posters for really terrible old Lifetime Television For Women movies. You know, like, Her Stove Was Hot: My Wife, My Ho: The Trixie Lynn Bakerberry Story.

I am not sure what to make of Sarah Polley's get-up at the Genie Awards last night:

[Photo: Splash News]

I was under the impression that the Genies were essentially the Canadian Academy Awards, but judging from her ensemble, perhaps I was mistaken and it's actually a giant Sci-Fi convention where Polley is supplementing her income by working as cocktail waitress, serving drinks like the Martian Martini, Jupiter Julep and Pluto's Punch. Who knew?

The scene: Some ABC event about something.

The players: Soap actresses Bobbie Eakes (left) and Kassie De Paiva

BOBBIE: Well hey there, Kassie!

KASSIE: Howdy, Bobbie! Ow, wait... sorry, I almost pricked myself on your cone boobs.

BOBBIE: I do not have cone boobs!

KASSIE: Oh, probably not I guess, but... I mean, it does kind of look like you might be wearing one of Madonna's old bras under there. I'm sure it's just an optical illusion.  Kind of like how your dress is probably not ACTUALLY made of Ariel.

BOBBIE: Quite. I'm just sorry to see that you gave up on your knitting and filled in the blanks on your turtleneck with ... what IS that, exactly? An old pair of nylons?

KASSIE: Listen, I'll have you know that I'm VERY BUSY. I replaced a half-Asian girl when I took my current part and had to pretend like that wasn't kind of weird, and I've spent the last 10 years basically falling in and out of love with the same dude who keeps getting stalked or shot at or molested by a crazy lady. YOU'LL FORGIVE ME IF I DIDN'T FINISH MY SHIRT.

BOBBIE: You are preaching to the choir, baby. I got killed off The Bold and the Beautiful TWICE, the last time by having a chandelier dropped on me, and then helped cover up a baby swap on All My Children while playing a woman who is a freaking GRANDMOTHER already and whose daughter is named -- wait for it -- Babe.

KASSIE (gasps): NO!

BOBBIE: I shit you not, sister. So YOU cut ME some slack.

KASSIE: Let's hug it out and then go out for a bourbon.

BOBBIE: You're on. Seriously, I have a lot of bitterness to get through about that grandmother thing.

[Photo: Splash News]

I'm all for Dita Von Teese's unusual sense of style -- by and large, it works brilliantly on her -- and I'll wager the Paris fashion shows are a great place to try something a tad off-center. But this may have veered out of "nifty" and into a place where I can hear Tim Gunn saying, "Designers, your challenge today is to create an outfit for an octogenarian New York society dame to wear to a philanthropy awards luncheon, using nothing but her accessories drawer... and her husband's wardrobe." Cue music stings, cue shocked expressions, cue a drawn-out, "Ohhhh my Gooooooood," followed by a disproportionately horrified bite from a contestant.

Or is it just me?

There's nothing I love more than a subtle approach to wearing somebody's brand name.

Perfect, right? I mean, "Miss Sixt" -- that's not a logo; that's clearly just cryptic gibberish that is impossible to decipher. I can't even IMAGINE what brand it might be, but I assume we'll learn more about this mystery clothier when BethAnn Bonner up there snags the lead in Pretty Woman: Back 2 The Boulevard. Hopefully I can contain myself until then. Is it Miss Sixta, or Sixtb? Miss Sixtq? Miss Sixtz? DAMN THE UNHOLY DISCRETION OF IT ALL.

Lindsay Lohan was one thing. But this... this could have been catastrophic, if it were true.

[Photo: Splash News]

I already knew this couldn't really be Anna Wintour, for the very simple reason that the A-Dubs we know and cherish (and fear) NEVER seems to have colored polish on her toenails. But this is cruel indeed: A nefarious, ruthless A-Dubs IMPERSONATOR is running around Paris, befouling Baroness Boberella's reputation by implying that she would DARE step into a pair of leggings, or take a style tip from a messy starlet who's barely one-tenth the Mean Girl our Anna is. Rumor has it The Dubs herself has actually banned leggings from the pages of Vogue. She is our soulmate, clearly. Someone must pay for this deviousness.

Because I prefer to believe the soapiest explanation is the truest one, I've decided French Vogue editrix -- and A-Dubs archrival -- Carine Roitfeld is behind this scheme (not a stretch, considering they once did an Anna-themed spread) to slander the future Mrs. Roger Federer. But you are foiled, Carine! A pox on your scurvy chamber of lies! We may not know anything for sure in this topsy-turvy world, but there is one thing I hold certain when my heavy head hits the pillow at night: The Real Anna Wintour would NEVER appear at a Lanvin show looking like she got sprung late from her Yoga Booty Ballet class. Mais non, bitches.

Oh, Mischa Barton. How the mighty have fallen, eh? Killed off The OC ....and no one really cared.  Offered -- allegedly -- a role on Gossip Girl and people freaked out. And not in the good way. Stick a little DUI in the middle of that and you've got a tasty, toasted downward-spiral sandwich. At least they're still inviting you to things, right?

[Photo: Splash News]

A word to the wise: you'd look about six hundred percent better in this if your posture wasn't screaming, "IS THIS TOO SHORT ON ME? I HAVE CONCERNS ABOUT MY THIGHS!" Your thighs are fine. The dress is great. Your accessories are....well, surely words wouldn't be failing me if I wasn't on day three of a raging fever. (Heather and I contracted the Death Flu simultaneously, which would be cute if we weren't both convinced we might lapse into a coma at any time. To the thousands of you who've already had this infamous Death Flu and survived it, I wholeheartedly salute you. Stupid germs. I hate them.)

What was I talking about? Oh, Mischa's accessories. My fever tells me they're totally adgoi3tgfsws@!1frf, which sounds pretty accurate.

[Photo: INFdaily.com]

ASHLEE SIMPSON: Pete?

PETE WENTZ: What up, baby?

ASHLEE: Do you think we look too matchy-matchy tonight?

PETE: What are you talking about? I think we look fierce, both individually and collectively.

ASHLEE: Sure, but....you know, we're promoting my new album.  Shouldn't I stand out more?

PETE: I'm not sure I understand you.

ASHLEE: I mean, don't we want people to pay attention to ME tonight? Not US?

PETE: But I thought YOU were US. I am YOU. You are ME. WE are WE. And I told you, you didn't have to wear the hoodie.

ASHLEE: That was just so we could better show off our matching bangs.

PETE: And? AWESOME.

ASHLEE: I guess.

PETE: Ash, I just want you to be happy. And what says "conjugal happiness and sensitive yet catchy emo/punk rock" like matching outfits?

ASHLEE: Fair enough.

PETE: PS -- am I accidentally sitting next to Bobby Trendy?

That Rihanna is tricky. I need to keep an eye on her. She has this quality about her that almost pulls off clothes that otherwise might make me cringe, and I need to be vigilant, because it almost happened again. Now, maybe it's the fact that I haven't been able to sit up for two days because of a tragic and debilitating flu, or maybe it's because I can't stop sneezing long enough to focus my eyes, but at first blush, this thing on Rihanna did not seem as awful as it could've been. 

Of course, on second and third blush, I changed my mind.

[Photo: Splash News]

Are those merely unhemmed slacks, or is this an unhemmed slacks jumpsuit? You all know how much we support pants 'round here at GFY HQ, but I'm less open to slacks. I'm pretty sure I have both male AND female relatives who are wearing those things in musty old photos from the '70s, and even they had the good sense not to employ them as half of a onesie. It's all very Polyester Sensible, which would also make a great name for the world's most boring Bond girl, and in fact, this might be a nice outfit for her too. Perhaps Polyester Sensible is a stewardess on MI-6's fleet of jets (slogan: Shut Up And Fly), and endears herself to our horndog hero by finding a new way to shake-but-not-stir James's in-flight martini -- something that involves her cleavage pocket up there, perhaps. But slacks that someone spent hours ironing for that perfect top-to-toe crease don't work so well on a lithe modern-day 20-year old.

So even though the color is pretty, and her innate coolness almost carries this off, I have to come down against the slacks jumpsuit. Rihanna is many things; Polyester Sensible is not one of them.

Dear Diary,

You will never guess what I've got now. Check. It. OUT.

[Photo: infdaily.com]

Doesn't he freaking ROCK? You know how much I've been wanting a baby ever since Nicole got one, but then I realized EVERYONE in this town has babies. It's so ordinary now. But how many celebrities in this town have their very own Wise Old Dude? RIGHT? JACKPOT!!!!! He answered an ad I put on Craigslist looking for a monk, but I'm not sure if he really is, because when I asked him to sing that "I'm A Believer" song as proof he just closed his eyes and cried. He's so SENSITIVE. And colorful! It's awesome, but I'm totally going to give him a makeover next week. He needs some aviator sunglasses and a trucker hat, I think, because you're no one in this town unless you look like an asshole, and they'll never let him into Hyde without them. 

He's already making me smarter, too. We went to this store that's an ENTIRE room full of BOOKS. It's like this whole side of L.A. I didn't know existed! It's SORT of weird that he doesn't seem to want to sleep with me -- not that I really want to sleep with him, but, like, it's the principle of the thing, and I am NOTHING if not principled (what UP, prison thesaurus!), so I put on my best nude fishnets and virginal dress and everything -- but then he started saying something about abstinence, and I could always use better abs, so I'm gonna hold off and just see where he's going with that. Plus, when I kept playing with my split ends during my meditation lesson, he totally broke down and gave me some tips on deep conditioning. Suck on THAT, Nicole! I'd like to see your baby discuss hair products! WHO'S WINNING NOW??!?

Ohmmmmm (or something; I don't know, I don't speak Latin),

Paris