October 2009 Archives

-- Just in case you were wondering, yes, Scientology IS experiencing a little extra hateration lately. (Yahoo)

 -- Hamish Bowles wrote a piece for this month's Vogue about some Outward Bound-y camping trip thingy Anna forced him to do. The article is a fun read -- it actually kind of reminds me of a piece in Sassy like a hundred years ago where one of the writers (Christina Kelly, maybe) went on a similarly Outward Bound-y trip and realized that she was going to bond with a fellow adventurer when she saw her putting on lipstick with a brush. WHY DIDN'T I SAVE MY SASSY MAGAZINES?  Anyway, this was entertaining, if only for the moment where you realize Anna is wholly unconcerned about Hamish perishing in the wild. (Style.com)

-- The London Times profiles Lilo. It's depressing. Someone force this girl to live in a yurt for six months or something. (The London Times)

--  Everyone hearts Ivanka's wedding dress.  (Parenthetically, can we just say that The Donald and Ivana clearly did something right, because the Trump offspring are the like anti-Hiltons? THANK GOD.) (NYMag.com)

-- Oh my god, you guys. Tuesday is NATIONAL SANDWICH DAY. You know how we feel about sandwiches. Lemondrop is currently running a contest to determine America's greatest sandwich. Vote early, vote often. (Lemondrop)

-- This picture will please you. If you're not some Sesame Street-hating FREAK, that is. (Popwrap)

-- It's comforting that Amanda Woodward's hair still has her classic dark roots and needs a wee touch of anti-frizz. She has no time for anti-frizz and root touch-uppery. SHE'S BUSY KICKING YOUR ASS. She is so going to semi-accidentally talk someone in the new cast into killing themselves so that she can achieve her professional goals. My only question is, which of them is going to turn to alcoholism and endless whining (aka, become Allison)?

When Intern George isn't rubbing our feet, scrawling "Mr. George Fug Girls" on his Trapper Keeper, or peeling grapes that he then feeds us from a silver platter -- as we lounge on our chaises and swoon, "Dahling, WHITHER the fug today, I shall simply PERISH if Katy Perry doesn't soon leave the house in a latex jumpsuit!" -- we sometimes let him answer our mail. And today, we decided to let him print some of his answers. We swear on all things holy (so, on George himself) that these are all VERY real e-mails we've received at GFY HQ, with names removed to protect the somewhat innocent.

---

E-mail #1

Subject line: Evan rachel wood fan

Dear Friend,

Do not sell yourself short. True love means more than two at a time (which anyone on the Ocean's Whatever sets will tell you, nudge, nudge!). You deserve a movie company who will cherish you as I would: arms wide open, chest broad, man-scent tickling your nostrils, and infinite little embraces you don't have to wait to receive. Also, have you seen Space Camp? It's divinity on a disc. Just like Across the Universe, but with fewer songs, more space, a different plot, and a robot. It may change your life. It WILL change your movie-ordering queue.

Jinx put Max in space,

G

---

E-mail #2

Subject line: RE

I am Mr.Chen,I got a Deal for you.Get back for details

Dear Friend,

I would love a subscription to Details. How did you know? I do wish it had more quizzes, though. Have you read Cosmopolitan? Wonderful stuff. Please let the editors know that real men crave stories about the degrees of tenderness with which to caress a friend, or when it's okay in a relationship to let your lover know about your villa, or 197 Ways To Rock The Sack, or perhaps something about what to do when Brad Pitt won't stop sending you really inappropriate gag gifts pertaining to the title of your latest movie, The Men Who Stare At Goats. Oh, but I can't stay mad at Brad. He's too huggable. Perhaps I could write a guest column at Details called "Man-Hugs And You: Partners In Freedom"? Let me know, sweet Mr. Chen.

Let's subscribe to each other,

G

---

E-mail #3

Subject line: LILO

Dear Friend,

Like Kanye, your caps lock is loud. I hear the fury of its imaginary audio and it burns my ears with shame. But let's not turn against each other. Instead, let's pop in a Hart To Hart DVD -- assuming you did not send it to Lindsay already in an utterly unselfish act of love -- and work together to understand this complaint that I am "unporefessional." Does that mean my pores are dishonest? That they do not confess their sins? Because, sweet treasure, the fact is that I ooze truth. Mayhap you should come closer, into my healing embrace, and let my pores ooze their truth onto you. How drunk we'll be with honesty! How oily with freedom! Then, and only then, can we clasp hands and try to make Lindsay Lohan a better place.

I know who hugged me,

G

---

E-mail #4

Subject line: Test group email 1

bla bla

Dear Friend,

Your missive is a remarkable work of symbolism -- a shimmering jewel of minimalist word-economy during this, our national recession. We should be more like you. We should ALL test group email 1. We should ALL forsake the 'h' key. And in doing so, we will speak only with our eyes and our trobbing earts, not our fingers or our mouts. Only ten will we be one, saving te world one abrupt communique at a time. I cerish you.

My arms are recession-proof,

G

Look. We all know that celebrities LOVE Halloween, because many of them subsist wholly on Red Bull and attention, and what better way to get some attention than by going out dressed like a....well, Sexy Whatever. Am I right? This week, for Lemondrop.com, we examine how to get your own Halloween skank on without actually looking...you know, super skanky. To wit: do not do as Paris Hilton does:

"La Hilton's insane Halloween ensemble from 2005 is the poster outfit for OH MY GOD NO. For one thing, bunnies don't wear lingerie, unless they are on Hugh Hefner's payroll. For another, WE CAN SEE HER BIRTH-CONTROL PATCH."

So, what we're saying is, if you've decided to use Halloween as an excuse to look extra sexxxy this year (no judgment: we've been there), take some hints from the likes of Ms Hilton and the rest of the poor sad fools profiled herein. SAY NO TO FLAUNTING YOUR PATCH.

I don't know about you.



But I am DAMN RELIEVED that Rob Morrow managed to get back from his archeological expedition -- AKA, his adventure fighting the Nazis in a race against time to recover a sacred and possibly cursed artifact -- in time to attend this event. Little known fact: it's very rare to return from playing Indiana Jones (Rob's version is actually named Michigan Smith. Details.) in time to change before you go out. You just have to hope your scarf is sufficiently jaunty and get your ass on that red carpet! Ah, the life of an adventurer.

This one is tricky, right?



It's a gorgeous dress...if you're a kicky and/or child bride. Otherwise, I think it's kind of hard to pull off, no matter how ostensibly beautiful the dress (or you) are. Me, I'd....well, I'd start by giving the girl some different shoes. These are surely lovely, but they -- and the bag -- make her look like she's just trying this dress on and showing us all for our thoughts before changing into the outfit she REALLY wore outside. How woulod you fix this? Or are you into it, just as it is?

It's that time of week, Fug Nation.  You to write the post about this photo, following our very specific guidelines. The best three (or so) entries posted in the comments  -- please don't e-mail them to us -- between NOW and 10 p.m. PST Sunday night will be posted on GFY Monday morning, with attribution, and then y'all get to vote for your favorite, to pick a winner. (Right now the only prize is THE THRILL OF VICTORY.) Enter as often as you want! Can we top last week's amazing haiku? I believe!

THE PICTURE:


[Photo: Splash News]

THE FUGEE: Former and probably future WAG Elen Rives, who's recently split from her uber-famous footballer boyfriend Frank Lampard in what sounds like a MESSY break-up. Unlike other famous Wives and Girlfriends (...POSH), Elen does not not appear to have a job as a pop star/designer to fall back on. Right now, she doesn't even have a WIKIPEDIA PAGE, so it's basically like she doesn't exist. Hence, her agreeing to appear wearing THIS COAT at a celebration of Hello Kitty's 35th birthday.

THE GUIDELINES: Your entry must take the form of a limerick. Grammar and spelling count. You may be risque, as in the tradition of all good limericks, but try not to get crazy, full-on inappropriate. And although I think most of you are able to recognize a limerick once you've written one (much like porn), to make sure we're all clear: a limerick has five lines, with a rhyme sequence of A A B B A. This is a famous one:

"The limerick packs laughs anatomical
Into space that is quite economical;
The good ones I've seen
Are seldom so clean,
Whilst the clean ones are seldom so comical."

Should you need further limerick-y explanation, this website is a tremendously good source for it.

EXTRANEOUS DETAILS: Ms. Rives hails not from England, like her soccer-playing ex, but from Spain. In which case, your limerick may easily begin, "There once was a model from Spain...." This may be helpful, because as My Fair Lady taught us, MANY things rhyme with "Spain."

IMPORTANT WARNING: Please keep your entry in the spirit of the site itself. We're pretty sure y'all know what that means. Now.....GO.

This outfit, when it appeared on Rihanna, became our first-ever Unfug It Up feature -- she styled it differently, of course, which was part of the issue. But it's interesting to me to see it on somebody who is not as naturally edgy or daring as Rihanna:



This woman is an Aussie model, although in this photo it looks like she's conducting the U.S.S. Enterprise's shipboard orchestra in a fairly pedestrian rendition of "Waltzing Matilda." And the outfit... doesn't work. It's totally wearing her, instead of the other way around. Of course, it doesn't help that Lara emits a vibe of having been up all night after several failed attempts to pass out in the drawers behind her. But I think it goes to show that sometimes it's the styling that fails you, and sometimes it's just the style. As in, I don't think this is quite hers. Point to Rihanna. Now let's see if Ms. Bingle has the guts to try this one in Round Two.

So it's come to this.


[Photo: PacificCoastNewsOnline.com]

Lindsay Lohan is wearing TWO things that button in front of her torso, and yet somehow neither one of them manages to be fastened. Indeed, she's actually CLUTCHING it closed. Either the girl has dieted away the memory of how to use buttons, or she's about to throw open her coat and ask me if I want to buy a watch from the glittering array of Faux-lex timepieces she has swinging from the lining.

I love this story about the teen girl gang who ran a burglary ring for like a year. It's going to be an AWESOME movie. BUT:

"As juicy as the inevitable movie based on the Hollywood Burglar Bunch is bound to be, it seems that unless they add a dying sibling whose brain fog can only be cured by eating the second hand of a purloined Cartier watch, a dramatized silver-screen send-up wouldn't hold a candle to the way it has unfolded in actual fact. Especially when said facts include the collusion of a guy who calls himself "Johnny Dangerous"

Johnny Dangerous! I want someone to start calling ME that. Read the rest of our take on these terribly juicy shenanigans at NY Mag.com.

I love Sandra Bullock, and every time I see an ad for her new movie The Blind Side, in which she and her family take in an homeless orphaned football player who's never had his own bed, and he -- I presume -- teaches them a valuable lesson about family in the course of earning a college scholarship, I totally tear up. I CAN'T HELP IT. Homeless kid + football + valuable lesson about love + nontraditional family coming together = me crying. Of course, I also used to cry BUCKETS at this one Whirlpool commercial that featured like 20 seconds of an old couple smiling at each other as they loaded the dishwasher, so I'm an easy mark. I cry at everything. I cried at the DEDICATION in the final Harry Potter book. But still. I want nice things for Sandy, is what I'm saying. Which is why I am concerned that she's wearing a harem pants jumpsuit on Craig Ferguson:


[Photos: FlynetOnline.com]

Why would you DO THAT, Sandy?

Ever since the story of Emmy Rossum's secret marriage, public divorce, and odd-coupling with Adam Duritz hit the press, we've heard various gossipy tidbits here and there from people who say she is a total pill who is OBSESSED with both bragging and complaining about how interesting she's pretty sure everyone thinks she is.

Well, Emmy, I hate to break it to you, honey, but:


[Photo: FlynetOnline.com]

You are not, and never will be, THIS interesting.

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



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

On one hand, Paris Hilton's outfit is literally being held together with safety pins.



On the other hand, at least SOMETHING working hard to keep her fully clothed.

ASHTON KUTCHER: Sorry I ran you over with the car, babe.

DEMI MOORE: No worries. It was an accident.

ASHTON: But your dress got all dirty.

DEMI: Eh, let's just pretend it's supposed to look like that.

ASHTON: God, you're smart.

I was so sad when Lipstick Jungle was canceled, but as my mother always says, everything works out as it ought to, and in fact, it did: Now hot, hot Robert Buckley is shirtless and troubled every week on One Tree Hill, which is a much better situation for all of us. Brooke Shields, on the other hand, has seen better days:


[Photo: Splash News]

I mean, not PHYSICALLY. She -- as an ENTITY -- looks great, as always. But I just want to run up to her and rip that black tulle off her skirt. She looks like she's been festooned like a porch for Halloween.

"Hola, America! But no. Today is not for exclamation points. Today is for grieving. HOTLY. 'But Jennifer,' you say, 'isn't it rude to look muy caliente when you are celebrating the life and mourning the death of someone you did not know very well who is extremely famous?' Look, precious boring friends, being sad is no reason not to wear eyeliner. And it is a compliment -- no, an HONOR -- to Los Muertos to be fantastic in their memory. And so I will be a thriller. It is in my human nature to be a pretty young thing, bitches, and the man in the mirror agrees that this dangerous outfit can heal the world. And if you think that makes me a smooth criminal, and you want to be starting something, well, let me just say that you are BAD and you know it and you must let me say farewell, my summer love, in PEACE. VERY ATTRACTIVELY. And if you have a PROBLEM WITH THAT then you can BEAT IT, BILLIE JEAN.  Because listen: Mr. Jackson was a PSYCHIC. Check it: He wrote a song about a RAT named BEN in the SAME YEAR THAT BEN RATFLECK WAS BORN. How did Michael KNOW? I will always regret that I did not hear his warning! Although, uno momento, amigos... why did he not come FIND ME and tell me to my FACE? I am Jennifer Lopez! I'm just over on The Block! I am so simple to find! HE SHOULD HAVE TOLD ME. IF I WERE NOT SO DEVASTATED AND MOVED BY HIS TALENT I WOULD BE MUY FURIOSA RIGHT NOW. IT MAKES ME WANT TO SCREAM. It is a good thing this eye-makeup works as Angry Jennifer AND Grieving Jennifer. Ha! I am multi-purpose! Drink it in, America! Adios! I must be windswept and solemn now."

One of the comments on this piece about Whitney Port wisely pointed out that she looked as though her dress had gotten caught in her underwear. And that is all I can think of, everytime I look at this picture of Marisa Tomei:



"Don't look so smug, Tomei. Your skirt is currently making sweet love to your Spanx and when you discover their indiscretions, you are going to be soooo embarrassed."

There is one aspect of Roxy "I Popped Up on Brothers and Sisters Again This Week, But That Can't Be Because Mom and Dad Work There" Olin's outfit that I LOVE:



Her Diet Coke.

Carol Alt is in great shape but OH MY GOD LADY PUT IT AWAY.



That is not a top. That is a BRA. And in comparison to the totally innocuous jeans and coat, it is DEEPLY ALARMING to look at the place where a SHIRT should be and see FULL-ON, FREDERICK'S OF HOLLYWOOD UNDERWEAR. The only explanation I can think of for this is that, in a Seinfeld-like scenario, one of Carol's friends gave her undergarments in a passive-aggressive move to force her to wear some, and this is how she retaliated.

And you know what happens when you go out wearing a bra with no top:

YOU'RE FLOUTING SOCIETY'S CONVENTIONS, CAROL. I can't really say it any better than Jackie Chiles.

Listen, I don't know why this Kesha person got invited to the UK premiere of This Is It.



But I do know that if you're attending a movie about the last performances of a man who died tragically and suddenly before his time, it's PROBABLY not the appropriate venue to dress like you're trying to nail Jon Gosselin.

Thanks to her performance in An Education, Carey Mulligan here is getting a reputation for being The Next Big Thing.



Concurrently, I wonder if The Next Big Thing is looking faintly like you stole your mother's best cocktail dress and her fanciest shoes, are trying to crash the red carpet because you heard there's an open bar, and are three seconds away from punching anyone who asks to see your invitation. I'm thinking a few inches up on the hem, shoes that fit, and a smile might've made this work a tiny bit better -- and maybe even her own pixie cut rather than a David Bowie bouffant -- but maybe I'm not giving this enough credit, because at the end of the day, the dress ITSELF might be kind of awesome. Still, somehow, I just can't shake the idea that she's wearing purloined goods and has a shiny new switchblade in her purse for the first person who taps her on the shoulder and asks who she's wearing. I pray to God that person is not Joan Rivers, because America needs Joan Rivers. I hope I am that sassy at seventy-six. ... Wait, what were we talking about again? Oh yes:

[Photo: WENN.com]

AUDRINA: So what I'm saying is, Heidi, you totally look like a prostitute. I mean, an ACTUAL prostitute, not just a symbolic fame whore.

HEIDI: Really? Well, you look short.

AUDRINA: Only YOU would find those things equally offensive.

I appreciate Monet Mazur's optimism here. Truly I do. But just because the CW rebooted two Aaron Spelling shows, it doesn't mean Dynasty 2.0 is on its way.



Ergo, she probably could've dialed down the Krystle Carrington thing. Unless she really was just interested in finding an elderly businessman to take her tenderly on a bear-skin rug. But if that's the case, she actually needs a touch more satin, some lace, a few shoulder pads, and bangs so winged that her head could take flight.

After over 600 entries, and over 19,000 votes, we finally have a winner in our inaugural Freaky Fug Friday contest! By the slimmest of margins, we're happy to anoint Heather (not GFY Heather) the champion! With no further ado, here is the winning entry:



Lovely Lady V
You ooze a certain something...
Let's pretend it's charm

-- Heather

Congrats to Heather, and many thanks to everyone who entered the contest! Look for a new one on Friday.

I'm sure there's a Charmed joke in here, something about what Brenda must have done to this poor bird's entrails in the name of misguided and immoral dark arts, but I never watched Charmed, as you can tell by the fact that I don't even know what Brenda's character thereon was named.



But honestly, it's not that hard to believe that Brenda Walsh, too, could have been seduced by the lures of divination via entrails. Brenda was easily influenced. I think her entire high school career was honestly like one step away from being The Craft. Frankly, it's a shame that Spelling never went there, because I feel like the Brenda/Dylan/Kelly/Voodoo storyline would have been a CLASSIC. And perhaps in the course of said plot, Brenda would have learned that, if you have to destroy innocent creatures in order to...whatever...you also have to be smart enough not to wear the evidence out to a party.

When I first saw this photo of Sharon Stone, I thought she was wearing a jumpsuit.



You can imagine MY DESPAIR when I realized it was just a dress. BORING, Sharon. I expect better from YOU, of all people.

Oh. Diane Kruger. I....don't think this was a good idea.



You know I love you -- as I love all things National Treasure, including Justin Bartha and Jon Voight's veneers -- but this is....not....good. I mean, have you seen you from the side?

So, singer Monica, of "The Boy Is Mine" fame, is apparently making a comeback. I just read that she has a new album, and a reality show on BET about said new album, and, ergo, she's making the rounds lately.



As a coat? YES. As a dress...Well, it looks an awful lot like a coat.

Also, while I've got you here, can we just talk about how good the "The Boy is Mine" video was? I totally remember watching this back in the day in my old apartment in Westwood, and all of us were transfixed by one of Brandy's outfits, even at the time. Like...is she just wearing simply the NECK of a turtleneck with her tube top? (We may have also been transfixed by Mekhi Phifer's hotness. I'm just saying.) Seriously, look:

I just wrote this whole post about a picture of Amy Winehouse, and then I realized I needed to put the photo itself after a jump because, in addition to not being safe for those of you with a sensitive aesthetic sensibility, nor is it safe for work.

BEWARE. DON'T SAY I DIDN'T WARN YOU. (Also: you've seen worse so don't be TOO scared. I mean, a little fear is good. Invigorating, even. But we're not talking a trip to Downstairs Ladyville. It's not THAT NSFW. But it is PRETTY unsafe for...oh, just make sure your boss isn't standing behind you and look.)

I just found myself singing, "words, words, words," to the tune of Motley Crue's "Girls, Girls, Girls," and that's how you know it's a Monday.



The words that occurred to me vis a vis this particular ensemble included: TOO MANY ACCESSORIES. Okay, I guess that's technically more of a phrase. But you smell what I'm cooking. Accessories soup. And it's turning rancid.

We got over 600 entries on Friday's haiku contest, and it turns out... you guys are really good at haiku. It was nearly impossible to narrow it down -- seriously. It took HOURS. I couldn't narrow it down to three, we had to go to five and if I hadn't wanted to get this post up in a timely fashion, I'd still be debating our finalists. Seriously. AWESOME. But here we are. Here's the original entry, if you need a refresher before you vote on the best haiku to describe this particular photo, or if you want to read all the entries:

We got an email from one of our eagle-eyed readers this morning regarding Lily Allen here. Our reader noted that Lily looked surprisingly cute:



I'm busy reading 600 haiku right now, so I'm just going to let the inmates take over this particular asylum:

I have to give Shingai Shoniwa of the Noisettes props for several reasons:

1. I really like their album.
2. The Noisettes recently appeared on an episode of One Tree Hill, which has, thus far this season, also reintroduced us to Center Stage's Jody Sawyer -- whose character is, I'm pretty sure, secretly actually dead -- and the concept that one can use Red Vines to legitimately menace someone. Anyone who will appear on that show is extra okay by me, and I'm including Kevin Federline in that.
3. She's wearing the garnish from a daiquiri in her hair. Someone who will cheerfully pose for the cameras while literally wearing fruit as a headdress is obviously amusing.
4. Once you get bored of eating her headgear, you can practice your Gordian knot-work on her skirt!
   
5. So, to recap, this ensemble provides both your daily allowance of vitamin C, and a helpful brain exercise that also keeps your fingers at their most dexterous! Win-win!
   

I suspect that, from the neck up, this picture could be secretly introduced into any of our families' photo albums from the late 70s/extremely early 80s, and no one would notice it wasn't an original.


[Photos: Splash News]

She looks like an incredibly well-groomed extra on Freaks and Geeks, and while my original reaction to this was to snottily wrinkle my nose and mark it for DESTRUCTION, the more I look at it, the more I kind of like it. Possibly because I've now been staring at it for over an hour and I've come to feel some sympathy for my photographic captor. I'm so easily talked into things, I swear. If I ever get kidnapped, I give it four days before I'm making those assholes grilled cheese sandwiches.

This is perplexing to me.



Sometimes at Fashion Week, any number of publications will run articles in which they ask designers what inspired their collections, and those articles are always entertaining, because the answers are usually like, "sweat, humidity, and grime," or "that moment between waking and sleep: ethereal dream fog," or "the futility of our meaningless existence. Also, oranges."  And then Michael Kors will pop in and be like, "pretty ladies on yachts!" and you realize that, even if he is extremely tan, at least that man is honest. I really want someone to grab Angie Harmon and ask her what the inspiration was behind this outfit. My guess would be, "avant garde Robin Hood," or "ponchos meet prosthetic-limb boots," or even, "DESPAIR."

-- Jessica Simpson and GERARD BUTLER? STOP, CHILD. JUST STOP. Seriously, that girl doesn't just wear Bad Idea jeans -- she apparently is swaddled in Bad Idea panties, bras, and t-shirts too. I just want to, like, take her away somewhere and have her sex drive disabled for a year or something, so that she stops gravitating to men who are guaranteed to make her cry.  (Celebuzz)

-- It seems the fine people at Twitter are making wine. No, really. Wine. It's to benefit literacy -- which makes perfect sense, really, because what better way to get children to want to read than to get them drunk? And also, it would seem to pave the way for lots of drunk Twittering, and we all know being blitzed off your tree is the cornerstone of any good social-networking service. The New Yorker's Cartoon Lounge blog has some amusing thoughts about other companies taking a similarly creative approach to marketing. (Fledgling Wine and The New Yorker)

-- Didn't we all learn from Joe Simpson that it's really pervy to talk about your daughter's boobs? (People)

-- I love Tetris on my phone...and on my outfits. (Dress a Day)

-- This Bronson Pinchot interview makes me do the dance of joy. Because it's SO DISHY and honest. Turns out Balki is fascinating. (The A.V. Club)

-- Yes, you do want to watch the highlights from The Joan Collins Makeover Hour. She says the words "muffin top," blames the internet for people looking like hell, and makes people put on Elizabethan ruffs. (YouTube)

-- Bai Ling discusses her seven favorite love scenes. What, you thought she'd be talking string theory? (Cinematical)

-- This Mental Floss quiz asks you to differentiate between outfits Claudia Kishi once wore in The Babysitters Club, and things celebrities have worn (described in the style of BSC). If you've spent any time at all on GFY prior to RIGHT NOW, the celeb outfits will not be foreign to you. Old -- I think this ran originally while we were out of town -- but still amusing. (Mental Floss)

-- Remember how we were originally bewailing having no idea what was going to happen on Mischa Barton's Awful-But-Canceled The Beautiful Life:TBL? Ask and ye shall receive spoilers. (Hollywood Crush)

-- McSweeney's still rules. "It's decorative gourd season, motherf%$^ckers!" (McSweeney's)

Remember when Camilla Belle was going to be real famous, because she was dating one of the Jonaii, and she was in that awful movie about cavemen? Yeah, that didn't work out so well. Nor, I would argue, has this:



Unless, of course, she actually IS an ice dancer, and she and her flaxen-haired Russian emigre partner are about to perform a sweeping routine based on Swan Lake, involving all kinds of limbs going all kinds of places most peoples limbs are incapable of reaching. In that case, I'm ALL OVER IT, but those heels are going to be hard to skate in.

Apparently, Dita Von Teese and her skull-raping pearl galaxy were at the same event as Evan Rachel Wood -- a.k.a. I Dated Marilyn Manson Right After Dita Did And Kind Of Turned Myself Into Her. Awkward.

I hope they bumped into each other. I imagine if they had, Evan might have said, "I'm interested to hear if your headpiece thinks Pluto should be a planet," and then Dita probably said, "How nice that you obviously bought your caftan from someone's Etsy store."


[Photos: Splash News]

And then Evan would be all, "Like I care what you think, ANDROMEDA," and Dita would say, "If I tug your cord, does a butler come running to bring us tea?"  Evan would stick her nose up in the air and say, "It worked with our ex-boyfriend," and then Dita would be like, "Oh, no you did NOT, pipsqueak -- you do NOT get to insult me when you are wearing this much fringe," and then Evan would turn around:

Well, we HAVE just been saying that we wish Dita Von Teese would branch out with her styling.



Falling headfirst into some kid's Science Fair project about the solar system wasn't quite what we envisioned, but maybe the resulting brain-stab will unlock a bunch of other new ideas.

Jamelia here apparently attended this premiere with 50 Cent, since a lot of the photos show them wrapped around each other.



Based on the length of that skirt, though, I wonder if their public coupling was more of a high-concept Halloween costume in which they are, jointly, a fifty-cent hooker.

A reader e-mailed us an interview in which Katharine McPhee bragged that her blonde hair has made her more creative.

[Photo: WENN.com]

Together, that reader and I wondered if by "creative" she meant "blind."

"Hey guys,"



"Oh my god, I'm so sorry I'm late but you wouldn't BELIEVE what I had to go through to get here. First, so I'm leaving my apartment, right? And I'm waiting for the elevator and it gets to my floor and the door opens and I walk in and I fall right down the elevator shaft. The door just opened and the car wasn't there! But luckily I only fell like....I dunno....thirty feet? Right. So, I manage to shimmy up the wall of the elevator shaft and I haul myself up onto my floor and I decide, fine -- I'll take the stairs. So I take all forty flights of stairs and when I get outside, I realize I'm really running late, so I decide to cut through the park, okay? So I'm walking along minding my own business and the next thing you know, I swear to God, this cat the size of a goat FLIES out of a tree and onto my head. So I'm wrestling this feral cat for seriously I don't even know how long, like at least twenty minutes.  And then once I ditched the cat, I had to run, you know, because I know I'm really late now, and of course it's dark, and I'm in these heels and then OF COURSE I tripped and I fell into a giant pile of brambles. I do NOT know what they were doing in the middle of the pathway, it must have been some kind of gardening miscommunicado, but it took me forever to extract myself from them, and, actually, I think some of them might have been on fire. And then just as I was leaving of the park, a gang of girl hoodlums jumped me and stole my bag and made fun of my ponytail, like all, 'Didn't you learn anything from The September Issue? Why is your dress all covered in holes and torn up at the bottom? We hated G.I. Joe,' and I was like, 'bitch, I just fell down an elevator shaft, wrestled a feral cat, was brutally attacked by flora, almost caught on fire, and had my bag stolen by hooligans. How do you EXPECT ME TO LOOK? I'VE HAD A LONG NIGHT.' And after that, they left me alone.

Anyway. That's why I'm late. And why my dress looks like it's just been through the third act of a Michael Bay film. So sorry. Can someone just direct me to the bar? Thanks."

Hey guys,

We've been having so much fun with the open comments -- thank you for being generally awesome -- that Heather and I have been mulling other features we could do that utilized them to the most amusing advantage. What the hell, right? We've been doing this thing for five years: As in a marriage, it might be fun to try something new (within a loving embrace of our committed and nonjudgmental relationship, mais oui). And what better day to get freaky, role-reversal style, than a Friday?

Here's how this is going to work.  We're going to ask YOU to write the post about this photo, following very specific guidelines that will be different each week. The best three entries posted in the comments  -- please don't e-mail them to us -- between NOW and 10 p.m. PST Sunday night will be posted on GFY Monday morning, with attribution, and the readers can vote on their favorite to pick a winner. (Right now the only prize is THE THRILL OF VICTORY, because this real estate is all we have to offer. But maybe one day we'll have actual STUFF. Let us pray.) Enter as often as you want!

Come on! It'll be fun! And it'll make the weekend arrive faster.

THE PICTURE:

I am usually not a fan of  themed dressing.



Like, remember when Kiki Dunst was in Marie Antoinette, and for a while there every time she went somewhere, she looked like she was about ready to plonk her head down on the guillotine? That was annoying. (Although, parenthetically, I really MISS Kirsten Dunst. Come back, Kiki. Your public needs you...to make fun of. WITH LOVE. You know we love you. I actually just want to embrace you. Remember that time I wanted you to be on a show solving murders with Jason Schwartzman? HE HAS A DETECTIVE SHOW NOW. CALL HIM. PUT ON YOUR FAKE GLASSES AND GET A JOB ON THAT THING. Also, where are my royalties for that?) However, Annie H here is at an event benefiting gay and lesbian civil rights in the state of New York, and I feel like the cheery rainbow-flag trim on her cute little 80s-style dress comes across not as irritatingly self-referential -- like Kiki's was (sorry, Kiki) -- but as a fun little nod to the cause. Thematic, and SUBTLE. Imagine that.

Wow, I just got really distracted by Gwen Stefani's face:



She kind of looks weirdly like Judith Light to me here -- or, as one of our photo sources labeled her today, "Judy Light," like the editor there went to high school with her or something. I mean, she looks like Judy Light's DAUGHTER or similar, of course, not as though she is Judith Light's current age, although I'd also like to take this moment to note that I think Judith Light looks great for her age and also I love her on Ugly Betty. But -- questions regarding who may or may not be The Boss aside -- Gwen normally doesn't look the way the person in this picture looks. Is it because, without her trademark red lipstick, my brain doesn't recognize her? Like, I have no muscle memory for THIS Gwen Stefani, so I find the whole thing off-putting on a chemical, neurological level? What I'm saying is: I fear this make-up may have gone a wee awry.

But let's look below the chin and check out the rest of her get-up:

Come on, guys.



What did you EXPECT Kate Price to wear to promote her new style guide, Standing Out: My Look, My Style, My Life? (I am devastated, by the way, by my assumption that said book will never be published on our American shores.) (Also, you need to see what she wore in the photos accompanying that article. IT IS...BIZARRE AND AMAZING. BIZMAZING.) Frankly, I can't believe she isn't out and about wearing, like, hotpants with her own face bedazzled onto them and pasties made of her book jacket. THAT is what I've come to expect from Katie Price. But an ensemble that appears to be the result of a Star Trek-themed challenge on Project Runway: Juniors (a show I just invented: tweens and teens making outfits! It will be both awesome and INSUFFERABLE)? BORING.  

Those poor short models on this season's ANTM. First, they're short, so they're never ACTUALLY going to be models. (Ladies, I feel you. I have to ask people for help getting things off the top shelf at the market. Um, not that that's the only thing keeping me from modeling. You know what I mean.) Then TyTy makes them be judged by the likes of Kim Kardashian. WHITHER JANICE? WHITHER?!

"Kim Kardashian can apply makeup, yes, and delivered a very touching performance on her sex tape; however, considering that she couldn't even convince us she was surprised when that hit the Internet, we can hardly trust her evaluation of performances in CoverGirl commercials."

Who's with us? Light your torches! To the barricades! Defend the shorties! All this complaining -- AND MORE awaits you at NY Mag.com.

This is the part where I talk about how cute Rachel Bilson is, and it's true. She IS really cute.



Oh, Rachel. I remember when you were on The O.C, and The O.C was good, and we were all so happy and young. Now I'm old, and you don't have a job. Which, by the way, is crazy: you're charming. You seriously should have a TV gig.   In this outfit, actually, you look like you're on your way to the set of a TV version of Reality Bites -- because the 90s are ripe for a period piece nighttime soap -- in which you play, obviously, the Winona Ryder character. It's debatable whether or not I would still RELATE to the Winona Ryder character, as the last time I caught that movie on cable, I wanted to shake her and explain that dating the super hot slacker SEEMS like a good idea when you're 22, but it's actually NOT because that dude will flake on you for the remainder of your relationship and eventually maybe start hitting on your best friend. In fact, I just realized that I think the Ethan Hawke character in Reality Bites is essentially Justin-Bobby. DON'T DATE JUSTIN-BOBBY. It ends in tears.

Also debatable: the relative success of this 90s-inspired little get-up. I kinda like it, but it might just be nostalgia for the time when I didn't have gray hair. (I'm lying, you know. I had gray hair at 18. I've ALWAYS had gray hair.)

Before you write in and point out that I'm missing a word in the title of this post, I did that on purpose. I'm not super deeply in love with this ScarJo dress, but I don't think she's played it badly, so a regular post or a "Fug Or Fab" seem out of bounds. That's why it seems more appropriate merely to point out that she has indeed worn an outfit -- an outfit that I THINK I do at least LIKE once I distract myself from how much makeup she's wearing, EXCEPT...



... Can anyone tell me what those marks are on her calves? (Why I noticed these, and not Blake Lively's blotchy chest makeup from earlier today, I don't know.) They don't look like a bronzer accident; at first I thought they were footless nylons, but I don't think that's the case either. They almost remind me of the marks I get on my ankles if my gym socks are too tight. Or like how some guys don't grow hair below that point on their legs, because their socks rub the follicles or they tape their ankles for sports, or whatever the heck the reason is. Has Scarlett been logging too many hours on the treadmill or something? Is she wearing duct-tape socks that have eaten away at her pigment? I'm curious. Slap a tail on me, shove a banana in my mouth, and call me George.

Also: I remember a while ago there was a story on one of the tabloid sites about Scarlett Johansson feeling the need to deny rumors that she's dropped fifteen pounds. My first thought was probably something along the lines of, "Jessica Simpson is going to stab something when she reads this story." My second thought was, "Why do I find it impossible to remember that she's married to Ryan Reynolds? And how RANDOM did that feel? And do they ever actually spend time in each other's company, excepting that time she showed up on Saturday Night Live when he hosted?" And THEN I wondered where Scarlett Johansson would've found fifteen pounds to shave off even if she'd wanted to do so. But in looking at this photo, I do think she is skinnier, and that possibly her denial was just semantics -- in the sense that fifteen may not be the exact correct number of pounds she has lost, which is akin to saying, three days before your 22nd birthday, that it's untrue that you are 22: Technically you are setting the record straight, but it's splitting hairs. I don't think Scarlett needed to drop any weight (and in fact I suspect it was just a by-product of training for her Iron Man 2 role, rather than anything she did on purpose), but I don't think she looks unhealthy. It's just... different. It's not what we're used to from her. I do hope she will resume a worshipful relationship with sandwiches, but at least she's not veering into Lindsay Lohan territory here, and for that we can all be thankful.

We've been a bit hard on Blake Lively for the flesh parade she likes to throw for herself every time she goes outside. It's not that we don't understand the temptation to show off what you've got; we just tend to believe it's okay to, say, skip the all-you-can-eat buffet in favor of a tasty sit-down dinner that's filling, yes, but also leaves you wanting to come back for more.

Ergo, I think this is sort of cute.



There's a HINT of cleavage, and plenty of leg. I'm sure if she turns around we'll find out there's no back and that her rump equator is showing, or something, but for now let's assume that's not true. There IS something sort of 1994 Amanda Woodward Goes To Work about this -- minus the mules, thankfully -- but I would also like to point out that Amanda Woodward was, is, and shall always be a total badass. I mean, what if Blake was doing the whole Alison Gets An Ill-Conceived Bob And Turns Into A Boozy Bitch Who Also Wears Mules thing? Or the Jane Mancini Bowl Cut of 1993? As Melrose Place influences go, this is really not so bad.

This is....intriguing.



If I may be frank ("Hello, Frank!"), I kind of like the fabric, although I think I would rather have it on a series of throw pillows in my fictional pool cabana than on a dress, pillows perhaps to be found under my head whilst Josh Jackson massages my feet and explains that Diane Kruger is SO OKAY with him leaving her for me that she's sent me $10,000 worth of Louboutins as a congratulatory gift. And the dress itself feels reminiscent of Lucy Ricardo, getting up to some shenangians with Ethel while Ricky is very busy doing something with bongos at the Tropicana. And that something, of course, may turn out to be HILARIOUS, but is probably not going to be super ATTRACTIVE as it will more than likely involve a face plant into a pastry of some kind. Listen, Martha Plimpton, what I'm saying is: I want to see more skin. You were in The Goonies. Represent. 

But what do you think? Down here, in the comments, it's your time. Be excellent to one another.

I was less prolific in my coffee-shop exile because I was so concerned that the blinding light would lead me to write all about what a heinous orange suit someone is wearing, and then a reader will e-mail me to point out that it's actually a white cardigan. Fortunately, a) my home Internet is working -- thank you, AT&T; we are in love again -- and b) I saw Shakira's Saturday Night Live performance outfit on my home TV, with unscorched retinas, and I can confirm that yes, it DOES seem like she glued giant shoulder pads to her hips:


[Photo: FlynetOnline.com]

GLITTERING shoulder pads, no less. Maybe her hips started lying, after all, and so she's desperately trying to hide that fact from from America's eagle eyes. All I know is, I'm laying 3-1 odds on Johnny Weir wearing this exact outfit at the 2010 Winter Olympics in Vancouver.

You guys, I am useless when I have to work at The Coffee Bean. Not that I'm not unappreciative of its ability to provide me Internet access when my DSL fails me, but this particular one has only two outlets, both of which force me to sit somewhere near the surface of the sun and squint and wear sunglasses in order to see my screen. Half the time this means I don't even have a good sense of what I'm looking at in the photos. I am reasonably sure this is Fabiola Beracasa, but if you e-mailed me and said, "How could you not notice that she's wearing a vest made of parrot feet?" then my response would be, "Because I am 90 percent blinded by the sunlight." Parenthetically, my home phone and DSL provider (who shall remain anonymous, but it rhymes with Way Fee & Fee) is going to get an angry letter from me: I have two infants at home and no proper 911 service for a week now, and supposedly they're not fixing anything until Friday night. What if something happens to them? What if I were a cell-phone-free little old lady with no way to call anyone in an emergency? What if someone breaks into my house to steal the twins? What if there is a fashion emergency and I can't see the photos? What if I fall and I can't get up? What if my house explodes and the only thing standing is my land line, and no one can use it to call the authorities? What if Intern George only has my home phone number and he's been trying to call to invite me to his villa and he's about to give up because it just rings and rings and rings? Come on, Flay Schmee & Schmee. For real. IT WAS JUST A LITTLE RAIN. MY GOD. GEORGE CLOONEY. BABIES.

Ahem. On to Fabiola:



I am not ENTIRELY sure, but I think this is the stuff the Wynn casino in Las Vegas uses on the awnings over the table games, and/or that she is working catering at a Mystere-themed cocktail party. But since my eyes are not a reliable tool today, I need you to confirm or reject my assessment.

First of all, am I the only person that thinks this Amelia Earhart movie looks like a total snooze? I might be biased because I kind of hate Hilary Swank's hair in it -- which I know is historically accurate, so I should just shut it -- and her accent in the trailer sounds like she is having problems talking around a mouthful of fake teeth. Or maybe it's just all the scenery in her mouth. (You know that I'll probably LOVE IT after I see it, right? My first impressions are nearly always wrong.) So, I know that I am deeply biased in thinking this is also a snoreathon:



I mean, okay, look: the dress is gorgeous, ostensibly. I can't really say anything bad about it. It's pretty. I just feel like there's no HERE HERE. There's no THERE THERE. There's no ANYTHING ANYWHERE. Girlfriend needs some jewelry or...something. Before I lose consciousness.

So, we got to go to the Lucky Magazine/Madewell jeans party last night, and it was extremely entertaining. Any party that features wee tiny sandwiches is aces in my book, as you all know, not to mention the fact that it's refreshing not to be a constant shut-in. Anyhoodle, it was full of the kind of cute girls who are in Lucky as a matter of course and at one point, from behind my pile of mini-grilled cheeses, I saw Erin Lucas -- who you may know as Whitney's roomie on The City last season, with the bangs -- float by. And I turned to my friend and said, "Hey, there's Erin who used to be on The City, with the bangs," and then we thought no more of it. BUT! I wish I had paid better attention to her outfit, because today, I was presented with irrefutable evidence that it was THIS:


[Photo: PacificCoastNewsOnline.com]

The other day, someone found GFY by searching for the phrase "PROM CAFTANS," and now that I've seen this, I'm concerned that might actually be A THING. PLEASE DON'T MAKE THAT A THING, AMERICA.

Too much? Not enough? Just right? Trying to decide if she was ready to leave the house in this must have been a Three Bearsian Nightmare for Pretty Pretty Paula Patton. I suspect this thing is made of just raw fabric, whipped into shape by a particularly ingenious stylist, but no one asked me. No one EVER asks me.



Paula Patton: pretty.
This dress: questionable.

I must be honest. I am glad Katie Holmes is out and about again. I got bored without having her haircuts to monitor. I kind of like this in-betweeny cut, possibly because mine is looking kind of like this right now.



However, my bra is not visible. Clearly, that's where everything has gone so wrong for me. First, I turned down that role in Dawson's Creek,* then I told Tom Cruise I had to think about his hasty but flattering proposal of marriage,** then I put on a shirt through which Hollywood could not see my undies.*** That's why she's a gajillionaire and I am a mere thousandaire. Oh, well. Next time.

* Never happened.
** Ditto, although I probably would have accepted said proposal, just because, "when I was briefly engaged to Tom Cruise" is a REALLY GOOD opener to cocktail party stories. Also because of Top Gun. Just a little bit. But still.
*** I'm actually not wearing a top.

Well, this didn't take long. Ms. Momsen extracted a compliment from the jaws of doom yesterday, but later on at the same event, she ditched that dress in favor of something a little more typically Taylor:

With the candles and the curtains and the thigh-highs and the sheer bits, she fully looks like she's inviting you to the back room for a lap dance. For which you would be arrested, BECAUSE SHE IS SIXTEEN OH MY GOD HOW MANY TIMES IS SHE GOING TO GIVE ME THIS SAME ANEURYSM CHILD PLEASE YOU ARE TURNING ME INTO A SHRILL OLD HARPY I JUST WANT YOU TO STOP PLAYING COURTNEY LOVE AND HOLY CATS I HAVE GOT TO HAVE A DIET COKE IN THE NEXT TWENTY SECONDS.

Twenty-five seconds later...

Well. Even Diet Coke didn't help. I think I need a 12-step group to cope with her pathological need to skip out on her youth. Sweetpea, trust me, you will miss that when it's gone. Don't try to be in your twenties now, because then you'll be in your thirties when you're actually 20, and although I have had a great run in that decade so far, I am pretty sure I would love another ten years in my twenties to do better moisturizing. So please don't grow up so fast.

I've been staring at this for like twenty minutes and it's turning into a Fug Mad Libs in my head.



Like: Julianne Moore is [COMPLIMENTARY ADJECTIVE] and I really loved her in [JULIANNE MOORE PROJECT THAT ISN'T EVOLUTION]. But this is [NEGATIVE ADJECTIVE] and makes her look like [ELEGANT PHRASE MEANING 'WEARING A CRUMPLED SACK]. This is a shame, because [MOORE-CENTRIC COMPLIMENT], but [AARON SPELLING REFERENCE]. On the other hand, [SWEET VALLEY HIGH] and [I MISS THE PELDON SISTERS].

So, between Forgetting Sarah Marshall and her recent Q&A thing with Entertainment Weekly, I have decided I totally like Kristen Bell. I mean, the girl admitted to watching Tool Academy. Anyone who shares my obsession with that show -- which yielded a contestant who called himself Matsuflex; the quote, "You may be dead but what's in my pants is very much alive"; eliminates people by saying, "I'm sorry, you're just a tool"; inspires the contestants to get rabid about protecting the integrity of the academy (seriously); and features them coping with anger by tearing off their shirts -- rates highly in my book.

As does this dress:



I know it's kind of busy, and I know that I can't completely tell what the pattern is because I'm squinting at my laptop screen due to the fact that I'm forced to work at a Coffee Bean that appears to be located on the surface of the sun. The skirt, through my near-closed eyes, reminds me a bit of very cold bumblebees being squashed, although maybe that's just me projecting my dislike of bees. Yes, I've heard they have secret lives, but they also want to violate my flesh, which is NOT OKAY.

Anyway: Regardless of all that, I think this is cute on her. Much more befitting of a girl who seemed, in that EW questionnaire, like she might be fun to hang out with, or whose DVR list at least might resemble mine. Which means that if she walks in here to order a pumpkin ice-blended in five minutes, I can walk up to her and be all, "Dude, what is UP with Hillbilly Tool wanting to use his prize money to buy 200 trailers?!?" and she'll go, "I KNOW, and I totally miss Matsuflex and that other tool whose girlfriend that brought him to the academy got ousted in favor of his ACTUAL girlfriend of six years that she didn't know existed, and who at the reunion show had a THIRD girlfriend who was pregnant!" Sigh. Good times.

Unlike this cover:

OH EMILY WATSON NO.



NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. NO. NO. NOOOO.

I have a confession to make. I totally was watching Mischa Barton's show, The Beautiful Life: TBL, even though every single time they went to commercial, I was like, "WHY THE 'TBL'? That's like calling Gossip Girl, Gossip Girl: GG, or One Tree Hill, One Tree Hill: OTH, or my personal favorite, 90210: 90210." And I just realized that I am pretty sure Heather made that joke already, back when it was timely, but STILL. We should have KNOWN it wasn't going to be any good. But I still mourned its loss: how am I supposed to know what happened to the Hot Dumb Boy Model Whose Dad Is Literally A Farmer Who Grouses About The Harvest, or the Hot Blonde Sweet Model Whose Dad Is Russian Mafia, or Mischa Barton, whose character had A SECRET BABY?? (That all makes it sounds better than it really was, of course: it was no Melrose Place: MP, which is legitimately juicy fun.) Anyway, I sort of wanted to support poor Mischa. She's having a rough year. But maybe things are looking up?



Mischa has always cleaned up beautifully. I mean, say what you will about her outfits or her acting -- we sure have -- but I think she has a great face. And I sort of love this dress, in part because the neckline is unusual but not CRAAAAZY, and it frames said face so nicely. Also, I am obsessed with navy blue.

Let's check out the back:

This woman is only 23 years old.



And she swears she's on the wagon.

Tell me another one, Linds. Would someone of sound mind wear THOSE shoes with THAT dress? I didn't think so.

PS: I suggest you save the icicles for the rain gutters of your condo.

Okay, let's take everything we know about T. Mom and set it aside: the years of cranky expressions (including this one), KISS-inspired face paint, and general surly mien. Cleanse your Momsen palate. Pretend you've never seen this girl before. You have fashion amnesia:



What do you think? "Wow, that cranky-looking girl in the flesh-colored number is pulling that whole look off in a way I would not have anticipated, if I knew anything about her, which I don't. Where am I again?" or "I find those fishnets a brave and intriguing choice. This irritated looking woman reminds me of a vaguely sexy zombie! I love it! What's my name?" or "What a bowl of surprisingly delicious oatmeal! Once this woman -- whomever she may be -- cuts loose those flammable extensions, she'll look positively fashion-forward! Who are you again?" or "Ew, AGAIN, person on CW? WHY?"

I can only hope that these pants are from Lindsay's Fall Leggings Line, which will have ventured out from being solely leggings and moved into being a purveyor of all sorts of tight pants:



That is, I'm pretty sure they're pants. They might be....brace yourselves, dear readers.... incredibly high-waisted shorts layered over tights. Look, I know Lilo has problems: violated paroles; unsuccessful stewardships of fashion houses; girlfriend drama; parents incapable of communicating in an effective and compassionate manner, much less in a way that doesn't involve People magazine; looming interventions; hair that suddenly recalls the finer work of Brett Michaels, etc. The question is: do these pants/shorts solve or ameliorate said issues? Or do they only pile onto the sweaty, toothless scrum that is Lilo's daily dramz? Exactly.

There was much discussion recently about Ms Rose McGowan's wardrobial choices. I must admit that there's something kind of charming about her most current ensemble:



I don't know how I feel about the dress ITSELF -- I enjoy that it's quasi-Marilyn Monroe a la "Diamonds Are a Girl's Best Friend," but I suspect she needs a chunky fabulous bracelet if she's going to make the (probably wise) choice to skip the gloves -- but I can't help but be amused by the expression on her face. She looks very, "Now you want me to stand over here? Really? Whatever you say, photo dude. Just make up your mind."

She totally mugged for the cameras once she got to her mark, too:

Hello, Helen Mirren.



You're awesome.

That's all.

Love,

Jessica

I can't quite figure out what's going on with Jaime King here:



Seriously. Could you please help me with this? Is this good? Is it bad? Is it right? Is it wrong? Is it so wrong it's right? Is it so right it's righteous? But, more important, WHAT IS IT? Personally, I think that if her hair were less distracting, I might love the dress...and if the dress wasn't as busy, I might appreciate the hair. Did I pick the wrong week to stop smoking crack?

Remember when Monica Potter here was all poised to be the next big thing? Yes, you do. The phrase, "the next Julia Roberts" was thrown around with abandon? Remember? She was in Patch Adams? Which I have blessedly avoided, and plan to continue avoiding for the rest of my life. And then she was in the Freddy Prinze Jr movie, Head Over Heels, in which she played a dowdy -- excuse me, a "dowdy" -- art restorer who lives with four supermodels, whose apartment overlooks Freddy's, and they think he might be a murderer, and Monica still has a total crush on him even though she sort of saw him kill a girl? And Freddy is of course not actually a murderer, but an FBI agent investigating the Russian Mafia? (I know. Take a moment to compose yourself.) Don't front: we've ALL seen that movie, and none of us in the theater.



I can't help but look at this particular get up and wonder how it would fare in a supermodel-led makeover montage. Between you and me, I think those pants are doomed.

"Hey guys! I'm Kate Bosworth."



"You're probably wondering where I've been recently. But listen, it takes a LOT of work to find a dress that makes ME look THIS queasy. I've been busy!"

Christina Ricci is as cute as the proverbial button. And I feel like this little dress is ALMOST as cute as she deserves.



But there's something about it that just doesn't quite work for me. It feels like what you'd get if you decided to make a saucy nightgown for the goth-enthusiast who REALLY hates her arms. If it were sleeveless, and had a better defined waist, we might be in business. Or if we chopped two feet off the bottom and wore it with jeans, she might skate by. Or....well, you tell me in the comments. As Elvis once said, don't be cruel. Also, please try the peanut butter, banana and bacon sandwiches. They're DELICIOUS.

I wish I had a dollar for every time in the last few years that I've muttered to myself, "WHAT is Quentin Tarantino WEARING?"



At first, I was like, "surely, there is a reason for this. Maybe he's paying awkward, ill-fitting tribute to David Carradine via an homage to something someone used to wear in Kung Fu, which I never saw despite the fact that it sounds sort of awesome in a way that is deeply historically inaccurate and maybe slightly weird?" But then I read that Q was presenting a salute to George Romero, so maybe he believes that, when the zombies come, they'll be deeply into frog closures, and thus not eat his brains? Or is it possible that he overslept and ran to the Spike Awards having forgotten to change out of his pajama top? Because the truth of the matter is, I love the idea of QT wandering around his house in these jammies that look like this. It just sounds so RIGHT.

Don't even get me started about Transformers 2. It was so terrible. NOTHING about it was good. Literally, everything down to the Egyptian geography was wrong. If you were lucky enough to miss it, Isabel Lucas here played a sexually voracious college student who provided tons of upskirt shots of her panties and who was secretly actually a man-eating robot with a tail and a twenty foot tongue, like, SUBTLE AND LAYERED AS USUAL, MICHAEL BAY. Honestly, the whole thing made me want to re-enroll in college just so I could write an enraged critical paper about how insulting the entire thing was: to women, to men, to minorities, to the government, to the military, to college students, to parents, to cars, to small appliances, to the audience. On the other hand, the movie did allow for Roger Ebert to write this review, which begins, "Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen is a horrible experience of unbearable length." I love you, Roger.  Anyway, Ms Lucas is a pretty girl:

We're sort of digging Katie Cassidy lately. She's kind of awesome on Melrose Place and her outfits are never boring -- even if we don't always love them, at least they never put us into a boredom coma. We take a look at them for NYMag.com...I'd say this week, but this actually went up Friday afternoon. Let's call it, "recently."

"Someone loves herself some animal print. Again, the makeup feels like overkill -- there's just too much of it -- and the purse looks like something Katie bought out of a car trunk, but the dress itself is a hit. It's toeing the line between "awesome" and "the '80s called; it wants its wardrobe back," but the otherwise simple cut and fun short sleeves save this from disaster."

Bet regular readers can picture that outfit, since I believe we put it to a poll here a while ago. Read the whole piece, and see how many you recognize.

HAPPY WEEKEND, EVERYONE. At last, at last, Friday has arrived. And while you spend your last two hours at work pretending to be earning your pay check, you clearly need more procrastination material. BEHOLD!

You clearly need to kick off this weekend with a lengthy montage of Alexis Carrington Colby's wardrobe, especially if you have been feeling lately like you need to see more women in fur turbans dramatically turning around to face the camera. (YouTube)

According to Life and Style, the Kardashians are designing a line for Bebe. This is literally the first time that a celebrity fashion line has actually made sense to me. Does it sound GOOD? That's a whole other discussion. (Life and Style, via Style Section LA)

Speaking of, "style," it appears Katie "Jordan" Price is publishing her own style guide. Our reaction to this can only be summed up by: !!!!!???!?!!!!??!11111??!!?!?!!?!?!?!?!  Also, it goes without saying that we need to read this. (The Guardian)

We LOVE Martha Stewart -- seriously, every episode of her show features Martha both drinking and flirting with male guests -- but this baby costume is simply too realistically edible, and recalls that episode of Seinfeld where Kramer has taken to basting himself in butter and Newman can barely manage not to eat him. We're scared. (Martha Stewart.com)

If only the fine folks behind this episode of MTV's What Were U Thinking had asked Ashley Green what she was thinking about the very outfit she wore in said episode, as it's the high-waisted leather shorts we featured here. That being said, this is a fun segment. (MTV.com)

The first peeks at Rodarte's Target line have arrived. We are...undecided. It MIGHT be awesome. It might be AWFUL. (NY Mag.com)

You may have seen this if you're following us on The Twitter, but we contributed to a fun piece Kotaku did on the fashions in the new video game, Uncharted 2. (Kotaku)

It's awesome that Brooks Brothers is selling Mad Men-inspired (and branded) suits -- if only so some of us can pretend we're dating Don Draper -- but where are the Joan Holloway-branded pencil skirts, I ask you? (The Los Angeles Times)l

The website DailyLit basically delivers chunks of books to your email inbox for easy reading, which is groovy -- this would allow me to read things in line at the bank, for instance, instead of killing all the other people in line in front of me at the bank -- and their most recent acquisition is called Shoes, Bags and Tiaras, which features, er, shoes, bags and tiaras from the V&A. Do I really need info about fabulous, historical Manolos delivered to me on the regular? Don't answer that. (DailyLit.com)

Finally, if you've ever wondered what it's like to work here at GFY HQ, it's JUST LIKE THIS, except there are only two of us and we've never done this. Other than in our hearts. Also, we'll probably do one to "Express Yourself" sometime next week:

Let's talk about Nelly Furtado.



First of all, am I the only person who thinks Nelly looks like Courteney Cox? Not exactly, but as though they could be related -- like Nelly is Courteney's cousin, or something. Angle for a gig on Cougar Town, Nelly. I hear it's funny.  Second, this outfit: I feel like it's SO CLOSE to being awesome, and yet something about it has pushed it off the Awesome Highway and into the gutters of Almostville. I fear I must lay the blame at her hose and shoes. They're sort of dragging your eye down, like an anchor. And the last thing you want your legs compared to is an anchor, am I right?

Iman: Edgy and divatastic?



Or the condolence fruit basket at a showgirl's wake?

You know the drill: Your favorite show comes back from the summer break and OMG WHAT DID SHE DO TO HER HAIR? (That was us, upon seeing poor Haley on One Tree Hill, and her new awkward hair color.)  This week on Lemondrop.com, we examine the good, the bad, and the ugly of fall TV's makeovers...or lack thereof:

"We would, however, like to give Miss Tyra a high-five for her new, darker hair. After suffering through cycles of Top Model in which (a) she spent 13 episodes wearing a Bret Michaels-style bandanna, (b) her wig was consistently crooked, (c) her hair had a strange yellow stripe, or (d) her weave was teased up higher than a girl's bangs in 1985, it's refreshing to turn on ANTM and think, Damn, Tyra looks HOT."

Seriously, Tyra has been looking AWESOME lately. It's like, in 86ing Paulina, she magically absorbed some of Paulina's hotness. Well done, lady. Who else made the list? Read the rest of the column here.

Yes, Gina Gershon, YES:



You inching ever closer, gloriously closer, to being the Liza Minnelli of your generation.

"So I hear y'all bitches at the tabloids think I've been looking pregnant. Well GET A LOAD OF THIS. It's tight and it's low-cut and I'm wearing the shit out of it, and later I'll be sporting it at my audition for the obligatory Sexy Cylon Whose Dress Is Close To Falling Off Her Breasts role in Battlestar Galactica II: Galactose Intolerant. The only bumps you'll see are the ones spilling out of the top. GOT IT? GREAT."

Intern George never runs his girlfriends past us. No, he just rolls into work in the mornings, all, "Hark, you'll never guess what downtrodden princess I met in Las Vegas after she served me a gin spritzer." He never comes over and sits us down on our chaise longues and says, "Fair dames, I think love has a name, and that name is Girl Who Was In Those Soft-Core Emmanuelle TV Movies And Also Starred On Days of our Lives. Should I take her to Lake Como for the holidays and make her my own?"

So, of course, we don't have any great insights on Intern George's latest flame, Elisabetta Canalis. All we know is what we see, now that she's enjoying all of his current press tours.



I'm sure this dress looked gorgeous on the hanger. And it looks very nice on this lady-hanger, too. But that's really all she is here: a glorified, bronzed, flesh hanger. If she were WEARING the dress, as opposed to just letting it be on her, then wouldn't it look better on her bust? I just want to walk up to her and yank up the bodice a few inches and hand her some boob tape, and then tell her to ask George to make her his signature fugtini sometime, and that she shouldn't let him drink too much because he has a lot of work to do in the morning.

But to be honest, the dress itself doesn't get me as hacked off as this does:

Obviously, if you're doing something spiffy with the Museum of Arts and Design, you're going to be tempted to wear something very unusual -- something artsy, perhaps, and full of design. I just can't decide what to make of Rose's effort here:



My brain keeps whipsawing between the good and the odd. Tiny waist! Clunky shoes. Interesting neck! Terrible hair. And the skirt gives me pause: On one hand, it makes her look like a martini glass, all boring stem and then an explosion of fun up top. But on the other, what the hell DO you wear with that top? It's like when you try something on at the store and you love it but you don't have a thing that goes with it in your wardrobe, and so you think, "Well, I'll buy the top first and then I'll FIND SOMETHING to wear it with," and then you never do, and suddenly you've never worn it and you really want to and so you just throw any old thing with it and hope for the best.

Now, possibly, that's just sewn to LOOK like it's separates, but I just wonder if it's a waste of an architecturally interesting upper half not to make it a full ball gown, or have it flow into a tight pencil-cut dress. I am gripped with indecision on this fine Friday, and I don't like to end my week under such terrible stress. Indecision is for Wednesdays, people. Because then you get over it and you cake walk through the rest of the week. So help me out here, in sort of a hybrid Fug or Fab and Unfug piece -- talk up its relative merits and demerits in the comments, and let us all know what you'd do if you got to play stylist. Stay on topic, stay friendly, stay on target, stay with me, stay for a while, stay sweet and see you next summer, etc.

This is just so SUBTLE.

My friend Marissa and I have had the same discussion several times over the last few months, and it is this: Is it possible to wear over-the-knee boots without looking like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman?



She says yes; I am more doubtful. Let's use Audrina here as a handy visual aid to illustrate both sides of that argument. From the front, to my way of thinking, she does not look as though she's practicing the world's oldest profession. She might be considering it, sure, but she hasn't pulled that trigger. And who hasn't been there, am I right, ladies? Ladies? Hey, you guys? Fine. But you hear me: it's saucy, but not SAUCY. It's sexy, but not SEX-Y. It's SEXY, but not... full-on PROSTITUTION-Y.

Let's look at it from the back:

I don't mind the trend of wearing boyfriend shirts, but there are better ways to do it than this:


[Photo: WENN.com]

That outfit right there is a walk of shame from your boss's limo. It's so half-assed. Put your WHOLE ass into it next time, please Lo.

Tara Palmer-Tomkinson is known primarily on this side of the pond as being That British Lady Who Needs To Eat And Doesn't Do Anything Except Be Tan And Naked.

And, for the moment, That British Lady Whose Photo Is Not Safe For Work:

Okay, I need you guys to sit down. Okay, actually, I assume that you're reading this sitting down, so I want you to stand up, and then sit down again. What I'm about to say is very shocking. Sienna Miller's posture is terrible, and she would, I think, look much better if this were NOT a jumpsuit but rather a dress. HOWEVER: She does not look so terrible in it that I want to barf all over my keyboard and then run outside, screaming until I lose consciousness from lack of oxygen. If she were not standing as though it were too short on her torso -- which I think is just a trick of the photo -- she might look....okay. Maybe? I mean, you know, considering.



I realize that saying this is sort of the equivalent of saying, "that time I got robbed was WAY better than that time I got murdered," but go with me. Let's talk this out, guys. Let's have that tough jumpsuit conversation. The longer I've sat here with this, the more I've hated it, but I realize that some of you don't feel as strongly. In fact, I believe it's possible that one of you reading this might actually be WEARING a jumpsuit.  RIGHT NOW. So let's have the talk, guys.

You know, people are always like, "Cindy Crawford, she's aging so well, she looks so great, she's so beautiful, BLAH BLAH BLAH."




And I'm like, "OH YEAH? You think so? Because...you totally have a point."

So, I guess Minnie Driver is in this new movie, Motherhood, for which I just saw an trailer. It seems to be about a harried and somewhat downtrodden stay-at-home blogger/mom who runs errands in her nightgown and knows a lot of working mothers who are kind of mean to her. It is hard to tell from two and a half minutes, but I suspect this might annoy bloggers, stay-at-home mothers, mothers with jobs outside of the home, and women who are asked to believe that Uma Thurman is anything other than incredibly striking and youthful looking, by which I mean: all of us. But trailers can be misleading: Heather and I have a friend who once announced, based solely on the trailer, that if the Johnny Depp/Penelope Cruz movie Blow didn't sweep the Oscars, he was going to leave town forever. I believe he is in Burbank right now.

I don't think Motherhood is going to sweep anything, and I am equally unsure about this:



SHE looks great -- like, as a person -- and I am easily amused by a saucy print. That being said....

You know, I understand why Robin Antin is letting the other Pussycat Dolls out of the barn every once in a while. If Nicole Scherzinger ever decides to go solo again, they are up shit creek, because nobody cares about any of the other faceless minions. But the problem is, when your pussycats run around unsupervised, this happens:



The rest of this outfit might be totally fine, for all I know. I can't tell. My brain shorts out when I get to her lipstick. It's like she personally juiced Violet Beauregard.

Star magazine just turned five, and this is what Phoebe Price gave it at its party:



This is what I imagine Barbie would wear to the funeral of her archrival's husband, with whom Barbie of course had a torrid affair that may have spawned a love child who is entitled to half the man's estate. (Although I think Barbie would've remembered not to stop applying bronzer at her wrists -- or, better, would have accessorized with elbow-length gloves).

It's a marvelous gift of lunacy to Star, and to us all. Phoebe, my birthday is on August 16, and I am turning... not five. So for all my extra years on this planet, I hope you come up with a sartorial present for me that is commensurately more wackadaisical. Thank you.

Julia Stiles is ALIVE, you guys!


[Photo: WENN.com]

I was so worried. Sometimes I'd lie awake at night, wondering if the humiliation of being in Down to You had finally done her in. But no! Hale! Hearty! Employed! Wearing the wee costume of a tiny junior ice-skating champion who was misguided enough to perform Blair Waldorf: A Tribute for her free skate, but still! ALIVE!

I don't know if you saw Orphan, but you should have. It was AWESOME. My friend Grant saw it like three times, and he wasn't wrong. I mean, sure, it wasn't exactly GOOD. But it was SO EXCELLENT in its terribleness. I mean, the evil child turned out to be SPOILER ALERT DON'T SEND ME AN EMAIL BLAMING ME FOR SPOILING ORPHAN FOR YOU JOIN US AFTER THE PHOTO IF YOU'RE STILL HOLDING ON TO THE ILLUSION THAT YOU MIGHT WATCH THIS THING a psychotic adult Eastern European prostitute with a glandular disorder. THAT is a REVEAL.



Welcome back, spoiler-phobes. Anyhoodle, Vera Farmiga here plays the mother in Orphan and she is seriously quite good it in and rather sexy. (Pursuant to that last point, the movie also features a fair amount of naked-ish Peter Saaaaarrrssssggggaaaaaaarrrrrddddd, which is never a bad thing.) Which is why I want to grab her here and shake her and then render some kind of, "Why, Miss Farmiga, you're BEAUTIFUL" moment where I take off the cardigan and hike up the skirt a wee bit and transform her from Musty Librarian to Sexy Librarian. It CAN be done. What would you do? Tell us in the comments.

To begin with, I think we all need to remove our hats and salute Blake Lively's hair. It is glorious and I covet it:



The hair on her head, guys. Not on her skirt.

That being said, I don't wholly loathe this. It's textile, and fun, and a bit....well, it is a Where the Wild Things Are event. Maybe this is her way of suggesting that it's time for the wild rumpus to commence. I have to have some respect for someone who so clearly embraces a theme.

"That's right, American Idol producers. I'm the tiny serving of meat in a Snoop and Adam Lambert sandwich -- the $5 in this particular foot-long -- and one of them is wearing velvet and the other has on Lagerfeld gloves, and yet I STILL look the weirdest.  You are going to miss  the hell out of me, bitches."

Why are you running from us, Taylor?



What are you hiding? Because, you know, I can see the tights, which -- God help us all -- might even be STIRRUP tights, judging by the nugget of heel flesh baring itself to the world. What are you concealing from me that could be worse than stirrup tights?

Again, much like with Maxim, I get that the point of this cover has absolutely nothing to do with January Jones' face.



And when you have someone as delicately beautiful as January is on Mad Men, I understand roughing her up and making her edgy and bad-ass because it plays against her alter-ego, and thus Joe Schmoe at the newsstand might buy the magazine because he's pretty sure she's the kind of girl who will do naughty things with his tire iron. But none of that explains why GQ chose this particular angle on her face, which I don't think works to her advantage. She looks menacing, kind of clunky, and vaguely tired, none of which she is -- well, okay, she might be tired. I don't know her life. At least the advertised story on where to find the best coffee in America could help her with that. Hey, wait, maybe THAT'S why GQ chose this angle on her face. Brilliant! Forget I said anything.

KHLOE: Lamar. Stand up straight. And stop smirking. We're INTERESTING now.

LAMAR ODOM: We are? Frankly, since I have an NBA ring, I thought I was already kind of interesting.

KHLOE: Duh, Lamar. No. You're not anything in this town until you con someone into paying for your quickie wedding. So, we're FASCINATING.

LAMAR: Huh. Really?

KHLOE: OBVIOUSLY. Why else would I wear a dress partly made of netting? If I'm interesting then so is my pelvis. And my boobs. Oh, and my thighs. And it's just not RIGHT to deny the world interesting things in these trying times.

LAMAR: Okay, Kourtney. Sure, honey.

KHLOE: I'm KHLOE.

LAMAR: You are? Hey, how about that.I guess I didn't need to send that apology letter to Reggie Bush.

KHLOE: That's ALSO not me, it's KIM.

LAMAR: Really? Wow. Which one did I get then?

KHLOE: ME YOU GOT ME I AM INTERESTING GOD DAMMIT.

LAMAR: Okay! Look, as long as the name's right on the pre-nup and the divorce papers, right?

KHLOE: Suddenly you are NOT so interesting.

So, this is kind of unusual. This dress appears to be held up by MAGIC:



But I think I really like it. I, TOO, give it the thumbS up. Am I crazy? By the way, when you ask Dr Google if you're crazy, the answer you most often get is that you are actually PSYCHIC. Which means I can finally tell you guys some of the information I have about you: Jennifer K in Philadelphia, your boyfriend IS going to propose! MAZEL TOV! We're so excited for you. Allison L in Des Moines, make sure you get your oil changed. Katherine in Topeka, that leftover spaghetti in the fridge has turned. DO NOT EAT IT. Tom in Rhode Island, those pants do NOT make your ass look fat, that coworker is just jealous. Francine from Minneapolis, you should not buy those boots right now, they WILL go on sale. And, finally, Jessica in Los Angeles, do NOT buy this dress, you're supposed to be saving your money.
 

Becki Newton is so cute and fresh-faced.



So it's a shame that her bodice reminds me of nothing so much but this:

Look, I love Serena Williams. I just do. During Outburstgate at the US Open, I just kind of wanted to grab her and ask her what she was thinking, point out that the only really advisable way to emulate John McEnroe is by playing excellent tennis, and then hug her and go take her out for a beer with Kim Clijsters, who also probably really needed one.  HOWEVER. What I do not love is:



THAT is a SHIRT. Or -- and this just occurred to me -- it is a very formal tennis dress, in which case I cannot wait to see her play in those shoes.

Well. America Ferrera looks fantastic from the neck up.



From the neck down, on the other hand, she looks like sgaeyqi0o8hy6YNHBBBBBBBBZPGIOJI3UUUUUUU 3RUtGXDHHHOoooooooqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqq.

Excuse me. I'm so sorry. I just lost consciousness, due to FLAMING FIERY BOREDOM. I mean, sure, this is fine if you're going to court to contest a speeding ticket or to a meeting of your co-op board at which you will be questioned for hours regarding a loud and inappropriate Beer Pong party you may or may not have had, or to sign your will. If you are a twenty-four year old actress, and you are not in Halloween costume as Katie Couric, however, it is unacceptably SNOOZEVILLE. Plus, it is doing her youthful bod no favors.

Later, America changed into this:

Sometimes, people ask us why we harp on jumpsuits so much.



This might be Exhibit A in defense of our position.

"Greetings!



"I'm Luke Perry, and no one on the internet can explain why I'm wearing this cowboy hat!"

Our girl Sophia Bush has been out and about a lot the last couple of days, handily illustrating the thrill of sartorial victory and the agony of its defeat.

This one, I think, is a win:



Does she look like the world's sexiest referee? Maybe, although she was smart to leave her whistle at home. But she also looks sort of modern and graphic and curvy -- frankly, I think this works, although I'm concerned that her shoes are brown. Surely that's just craziness on my part, however, yes? Brown shoes would be foolishness at the level of the fact that last night's One Tree Hill involved NO MALE SHIRTLESSNESS. Considering that this is the first time that has EVER happened on that show, let's just say....I am concerned. Also, I'd like to take this moment to officially thank the OTH crew for casting Hot Hot Robert Buckley as Nathan's Generally Shirtless Troubled Manwhore Agent With a Heart of Gold and MYSTERIOUS PAST.  I'd also like to share that when I originally wrote that sentence, I accidentally left out the word "Agent," and I admit that I would also watch THAT show.

Anyway, further craziness on Sophia's part, however, is amply demonstrated by THIS:

At first, I thought this photo was going to be of Blake Lively. You can probably guess why:



Mountains of hair, low cut, lots of leg, and -- which you'll see after the jump -- an open back:

LAUREN CONRAD: So here we are at the Hollywood Style Awards, right?

STYLIST BRITT BARDO: Right.

LC: Do we think this was the right moment to make me look like a saggy pregnant lounge chair?

SBB: Why not? It's the right moment for me to model my hair after that muse in Xanadu who looked like she was wearing a phallus.

LC: Yours is more of a nubbin.

SBB: IRREGARDLESS.

LC: That's not a word.

SBB: Yeah? Well YOU'RE not pregnant and saggy!

LC: Exactly my point.

SBB: What are we talking about again?

LC: Look, I just don't love my outfit, okay? Let's reconsider next time.

SBB: Am I even your stylist?

LC: I hope so, because if not, then I did this to myself. And I am REALLY not sold on my lipstick. Or my hair.

SBB: Then you have problems.

LC: Thanks.

It certainly is interesting that Emmy Rossum is suddenly everywhere, in the wake of the Public Divorce from her Secret Husband. I'd hypothesize that she's looking for Secret Husband Number Two, but she's dating Adam Duritz and neither one of them is being secretive about it, perhaps because that relationship has gotten them more press than either of them has had in years. Don't you feel like Ex-Mr-Rossum is sitting at home reading People, and being like, "REALLY? THAT GUY? FROM COUNTING CROWS? Huh." Which is part of the reason I would not want to be a celebrity. In addition to bitches making fun of my awesome outfits, I'd have to see my ex-boyfriends splashed on the front of US Weekly, all "HE FINALLY SETTLES DOWN," while I'm just trying to buy a Slurpee. But as much as I have enjoyed cracking on La Rossum in the past, I must admit that I think this is rather pretty:



I like the color, the ruffle is sort of visually intriguing, it fits her nicely, and the styling is refreshingly understated. She neither looks like a doll, nor as though she just stumbled off the pole. Points to Rossum. THIS time. Enjoy it while it last, kid.

I'm so glad Paris Hilton felt the need to speak to us through fashion.

[Photo: PacificCoastNewsOnline.com]

Because it wasn't already IMMEDIATELY obvious to anyone within a 100-mile radius that Paris Hilton is always on the prowl.

[Photo: PacificCoastNewsOnline.com]

AJ MICHALKA:  Excuse me?

ALY MICHALKA: What, did you hear something?

AJ: I could've sworn I heard someone behind us laughing.

ALY: You probably did. I know I am laughing at you.

AJ: Wait, at ME?

ALY: Hello, honey, you're wearing really tight pants and a shirt that hits your butt in the WEIRDEST place.

AJ:  HAVE YOU SEEN YOUR TIGHTS?

ALY: They're not tights, honey, they're pights. Half pants, half tights.

AJ: Did you just not bother to shave the backs of your legs today?

ALY: Don't judge. It makes showering SO MUCH faster. I may not do it ever again. This is the new revolution, sweetie. Ride the wave.

AJ: It's okay. I'll let you surf it as far away from me as possible.

Well, on the bright side, she's not wearing solely a man's sheer white Hanes t-shirt:

Penelope Cruz was all over the place this weekend -- drumming up early press for Nine, I guess.


[Photo: Splash News]

Also, judging from this photo, doing an artful impression of some of the 1980s' most trendily-decorated breakfast rooms, all covered in white trellis and redolent of wicker and Morgan Fairchild and white wine spritzers. Someone somewhere is surely looking at her and thinking, "I can't wait to serve a quiche on that."

Luckily, she went out on Sunday night looking a bit less like somewhere you'd go for brunch with your grandma:

Now that the work week is winding down, and we're all desperately searching for procrastinatory material to get us through until quittin' time, here's a roundup of stuff we've been checking out on the Web this week.

-- Why is Shiloh Jolie-Pitt dressed like Joel Madden? Maybe all the Jolie-Pitt kids will be OTHER CELEBS this Halloween. That would be kind of hilarious. I want to see Maddox in costume as Madonna. (JustJared)

-- Beyonce told Oprah's magazine that Kanye, with his VMAs outburst, was defending art. In other words, she just totally picked at a scab that had mostly healed, AND has managed to come off like she's ALSO dissing Taylor Swift's video. JUST STOP TALKING, YOU GUYS. (UsMagazine.com)

-- The Book of Genesis, according to Tyra (who else?). Hilarious. (Lyrical Malarky)

-- Author Meg Cabot took us right back to our childhood in this Wall Street Journal piece about the Betsy-Tacy books. And Tib. Don't worry, we haven't forgotten you, Tib. I wish HarperCollins would republish those.

-- According to LAist, Ellen Page is writing a series for HBO about two girls who move from Williamsburg to Silver Lake to become "artists." As one of their commenters aptly noted, this sounds like a story from The Onion. HIPSTER OVERLOAD.

-- Generally, Nancy Grace is not our particular cup of java, but we have to offer a laurel and hearty handshake to anyone who delivers a smackdown to Jon Gosselin. (Jezebel)

-- Bonus points if you ID'd the Blazing Saddles quote in the previous blurb.

-- In other Gosselin news, E!'s Answer Bitch contemplates how best to make him go away forever. We can only pray that he read it.

-- We're terribly sad that Intern George hasn't flown us to Paris Fashion Week to watch all the ornate collections come down the runway; fortunately, we have Harper's Bazaar to pick out the Top 100 things from the catwalk.

-- Roisin Murphy cracks us up -- and also might be cream-filled. (Style.com)

-- This might be the cutest kid ever. Watch your back, Kurt Russell. If they make Miracle II:  Getting Together To Watch The Game From The First Movie, you might have to reaudition for your own part.

-- OH HELL YES. Joan Collins is appearing in a new television special in which she gives three women makeovers. PLEASE AIR IN THE US. (SF Gate)

Last time I saw this outfit, I felt so sick.


[Photo: Splash News]

Because I was hung over, and watching The Breakfast Club on TBS. Ah, pleated, baggy, belted shorts, I have not missed you one iota. Can't we agree, as a society, to leave you in reruns of teen movies and old copies of The Babysitters Club, where you belong?

I love Freida Pinto. I think she is so pretty. Today would be so much more delicious if I were Freida Pinto, running around Paris and looking at myself in the mirror and brushing my pretty shiny hair. Although....would I have to be wearing THIS?



The color? Divine. The skirt? Shall we call it...intriguing? I must admit that I rather want to touch it. At least it's tactile-y....fascinating, rather like an adorable and complex high-end loofah. Her shoes? Be-spatted, or covered in little wine-bottle gift bags? Her bag? An afterthought, yes? Her face? Gorgeous. At least she's got that.

[Photo: PacificCoastNewsOnline.com]

"Hello, and welcome to Garden of Eden Raw Food Utopia. While you're waiting for your table, please enjoy a bowl of our complimentary colon-cleansing radish crackers with sprout dressing."

You guys, I'm so glad One Tree Hill is back. Seriously. I miss Chad Michael Murray's squints of judgment/joy/sorrow/fear/ambivalence, but it's still juicy. Murderous grave-immolating heart-eaten-by-a-dog Dan Scott is a life coach! He's married to ex-drug addict and semi-trashy cheerleader (and former classmate of both his children) Rachel! Nathan may or may not have impregnanted a ho one night on the road with his NBA team! Robert Buckley is charming and sometimes shirtless! Jana Kramer is hilarious as a shallow movie star! Skills hasn't gone to prison yet in real life and so he's still being all awesome with little Jamie! Brooke Davis has a hot boyfriend for the first time in two years! Haley's hair color is totally wrong! Mouth is... never mind. But suffice it to say, I'm glad the secret greatest show on television is entertaining me anew.

Which is more than I can say for Sophia Bush's dress. Nice transition, eh? No? Well, too bad, so sad -- which, again, is something I might say to Sophia Bush if she asked me about this outfit.



I know that's a pretty negative intro for a Fug or Fab, but here's why the post is filed thusly: This MIGHT be very pretty. But it's hard for me to judge the dress on its own merits, because something about it is so very wrong to me on Sophia. Maybe it's the styling: Loose hair flowing into shoulder ruffle flowing into large ruffled skirt equals a whole lot of STUFF. There's no grace, no neck;  it's all shoulders and floppy bits. The judging panel of America's Next Top Model would be horrified, before complimenting her on her ability to "smize," and yes, Tyra has invented her own contraction for "smile with your eyes." I KNOW. It's only a matter of time before she buys Webster's and puts out a dictionary all her own.

Back to Sophia: I don't think the dress works in motion, either:

I'm so delighted Geri made sure to wear her largest, most gorilla-esque coat.


[Photo: WENN.com]

Because I would just HATE for her to be out on the town without the proper coverage on her arms.

All I know is, BAI LING IS BACK, BABY:



And I've NEVER been happier. Sure, she looks crazy. But Bai Ling OUGHT to look like this. Her brief, recent foray into respectability made me confused and nauseated. Bai Ling is not Bai Ling if she isn't wearing a skirt the size of an Ace bandage and seventeen different accessories she may or may not have accidentally borrowed from Forever 21. THIS is the order of things. The sun sets in the west, Diet Coke is fizzy, Paris Hilton will attend the opening of an eyeball, and Bai Ling dresses as though she's attempting, like a black widow, to lure the likes of Jon Gosselin into her web of youthful, devil-may-care, Ed-Hardy-adjacent skankwear. THAT IS HOW THINGS OUGHT TO BE. And, if all goes well, and Bai Ling DOES date Jon Gosselin, I feel that we can all rest assured that MAGICALLY and MAJESTICALLY she will somehow render him impotent and invisible to the rest of the known world. Suddenly, readers, I know, with complete certainty, that this is her fate. Bai Ling is a famewhore, yes, but I feel confident that she is not without a moral center, and if dating Jon Gosselin will both render her more famous AND she can do us a public service by, say, BEWITCHING HIM into entering a cloistered monastery away from the prying eyes of, oh, EVERYONE CURRENTLY ALIVE ON PLANET EARTH, I trust that she will do so. And if tattooed leggings and a shirt the size of a lobster bib are what's required of this task than I am sure you will all join me in wishing her a hearty GOOD LUCK. How do I know this is her fate, you ask? Well, I didn't get any sleep last night and I'm out of coffee and I'm pretty sure this weird feeling is what it's like to be psychic.

You may have noticed that Rihanna has been out and about in a variety of deliciously wacky get-ups this week. Bless her. She keeps it fun for us...and is the subject of this week's NY Mag column:

"We were always taught that if you're going to wear the harem pants, leave the lingerie at home, lest you look like an escapee from some kinky I Dream of Jeannie-inspired fetish party. But maybe they do things differently in France."

I feel like those are words of wisdom, truly, but what do I know? There's so much more to learn, so read the rest here. I COMMAND YOU. (Not really.)

After looking at piles of crazy, sometimes you just want to cleanse your aesthetic palate with something fabulous:



Thanks, Iman. I feel better now.

I love the Muppets as much as anyone. I've watched The Muppet Show DVDs and plan to show them to my kids, I love their contributions to Sesame Street, I'm totally down with their movies (I mean, come on, Charles Grodin singing an operatic love song to Miss Piggy in The Great Muppet Caper is hilarious, as is The Baseball Diamond), and... look, the list is long. The Muppets rule. Puppets, on the other hand... that's a conversation for another day.



But nowhere in my love of Muppets do I include, "I just want to put my ass on them!" Which is exactly what will happen to those sweet little faces when Katy Perry sits down at this event. Yes, I know, those aren't real three-dimensional Muppets she'd be squashing, but there's just something so off-putting about knowing she's about to go butt-cheek-to-jowl with Kermit and his crew.  Or that Russell Brand, Katy's new boyfriend, might later rip off the Muppet dress with his teeth before engaging in carnal activity the dress will have no choice but to witness. That's what it is: This dress is about to lose its innocence, and I am powerless to help it. DAMN YOU, PERRY.

WOW.



WHAT is HAPPENING here? I feel a bone deep and profound, dizzying confusion, the sort you're supposed to call your doctor about if it happens while you're on medication. Let's take stock. We've got:

1. Sheer leggings, through which I can see panties.
2. A sheer tunic-y top, though which I can see bra.
3. An enormous gray felt BRA with giant, attached embroidered SLEEVES, which are PINNING HER ARMS TO HER SIDES. That CAN'T be right, can it? I mean...that's not possible. That can not be true. So, maybe it's...
4. A...weird-ass cape?
5. The ugliest vest IN THE WORLD?
6. Uh? I.... No, seriously. I really can't figure it out. I haven't been this confused since Alegbra II. SOMEONE PLEASE EXPLAIN THIS TO ME.
   

Happy Birthday, Mya!



We're THRILLED to see that NASA has accepted your application for astronaut training. However... I don't know how to tell you this, but your left breast has grown eyelashes.  Let's all join hands and pray that Mammarial Mascara Syndrome is not a medical condition that would keep you on the ground. Personally, I don't see the harm in one of your boobs winking while you're floating around enjoying the lack of gravity, but then again, I'm not a rocket scientist.

We're going to be seeing a lot of Shayne Lamas and her twee tea party dresses between now and when her reality show premieres, aren't we?


After which point, it could go one of two ways:

1. A swift, merciful slide back into obscurity, after America reiterates that we are not at all interested in anything Lamas-related, although we could probably be talked into watching Leave It to Llamas. 
2. Leave It to Lamas is a yoooge, Kardashian-y success, Shayne ends up clawing her way toward the middle of Fug Madness, we all spend a fair amount of time cursing humanity for giving the spotlight to this person (while being ourselves part of the problem rather than the solution, obviously), and then she starts her own line of ruffle-y twee party dresses that we all make fun of, before accidentally buying one and feeling the need to make excuses every time we wear it, primarily to people who don't care.
   

Paula Patton wore this the day after she donned this recently fugged number, so clearly it was a very heady and crazy time for her. I look forward to the day her cheesy husband Robin Thicke writes an irritating slow jam all about watching her get dressed in crazy stuff and wanting to stop her.

Perhaps in person this was ravishing, and the photo doesn't do it justice, but when I saw it I shuddered:



She looks thoroughly upholstered. Between the sleeve and the matching handbag****, it's a LOT of pattern. I'm going to start calling her Paula Pattern. HA. HILARITY. I will pause while you stitch back together your splitting sides.

**** Well, hot damn, my eyes deceived me, it IS a ruffle. I thought it was a clutch she was holding vertically. That ... well, it's still too much, like the dress has a floral tongue.

Maybe not much can be done that isn't pure fantasy, but I think the entire thing would be improved vastly without the sleeve and with a clutch that evokes the color of the shoes. Or even ANY solid color. I feel like the floral is salvageable, but she just needs it to be less aggressive on the left half of her body. After a while it starts to look a bit like cheerful gangrene.

What would you do? Add a second sleeve? Change the neckline altogether? Keep the mono-sleeve but change its shape? Nothing? Everything? Chat it up in the comments. Keep it on-topic, keep it clean, keep it friendly, keep the faith, love will keep us together.

Hey guys,

Starting this one off with a bit of housekeeping. Because we've really enjoyed having comments open on the Unfug It Up posts, we've decided to open them occasionally on other sorts of posts as well -- like Fug or Fabs, so you guys can weigh in on the very pressing issues at hand, as well as voting. Thanks for being such an awesome community, and we look forward to reading all your funny, constructive, clever commentary.

ONWARDS. Let's talk about Leighton.



First off, I need to say in a public forum that I found Hilary Duff to be surprisingly kind of charming and likeable on Gossip Girl this week. She's a better actress than certain regulars who shall remain nameless (not you, Leighton. You're always excellent, even if there's something about your current plotline that makes me mutter, "don't you have CLASS TO GO TO?" like a crotchety old bat). Charming and likeable, much like this entire look...until you get to the shoes. Which I love. But the socks make me want to stab myself with a baguette and pelt innocent children with hardened discs of pate (...when in Paris). And I don't understand why she appears to be holding what is surely the poshest, priciest, most covetable laptop bag ever. In short, confusion reigns. As usual.
 

What psychedelic publication hired Bai Ling to be its papergirl?

[Photo: PacificCoastNewsOnline.com]

I MUST KNOW. Because clearly I need to read it.

Judging from this look, I can only IMAGINE what the next issue of GOOP is going to be about:



I hope it's titled, "How To Nourish Your Inner 80s" and includes the following:

1. A hacky joke about how Gywnnie means the 1980s and not your inner old lady, although I must confess that my inner old lady is well-nourished indeed. I spent LOTS of time spying on my neighbors and tell the same stories over and over again, usually about how in MY day, if you wanted to talk to someone, you had to CALL THEM ON THE PHONE and if they weren't home, you just HAD TO CALL BACK.
2. A special guest appearance from Gywneth's best dear friend who is also an 80s icon and who knows a thing or two about tight jeans, Steve "Steven" Perry.
3. A photoshoot where Gwynnie models things like this blazer and these jeans, as well as a vintage Hypercolor tee shirt, and a variety of ensembles made from neoprene, all of which cost over $1000 but are positioned as "a steal!"
4. An off-hand mention of how Gwynnie realized the 80s were back one morning during a conversation she had with Frédéric Fekkai while he was giving her a blow-out in the garden of this little shack she has in the south of France. Tres bien!
5. Oh, Gywneth. I really do love you. Don't ever change!
   
6. I mean that METAPHORICALLY. Feel free to change this particular outfit if you want.
   

I've got to say...a leather turtleneck dress? BOLD.



Also, hot: both in the sense that's it's very Angelina Jolie In Mr and Mrs Smith Sexy, and it must be literally, Wow I'm Sweating Like the Proverbial Prostitute in a Place of Worship hot. Although, let's be honest: we all know Kate Moss never has to deal with anything as plebeian as sweat tricking down the back of her knee.  I know I started this entry with an eye to polling you on whether she looks Fug or Fabl, but I must be honest: I think she looks, as Miss Tyra would say, FIERCE.

Oh, Phylicia Rashad.



I pray that this look means there's a Cosby Show reunion in the works, and that Clair Huxtable here has rushed to this event straight from set, where she and Cliff were somehow teaching Theo and Cockroach a lesson by transforming Huxtable Manor into a scene from Arabian Nights, much like in the manner of my favorite episode, where Theo announces he's going to become a famous fashion model and move out at 18, and the whole family assumes new personas -- Cliff being, of course, Landlord Harley Weewax -- to teach Theo that living on your own is hard. That episode is also brilliant because Denise wears a leopard print turban. In fact, a turban is just what this outfit is missing, but you know what? I DON'T CARE. I just spent an hour watching reruns of The Cosby Show on YouTube and I've decided Clair Huxtable can wear whatever she damn well pleases.

[Photo: Splash News]

PETER SAAAAAARSGAAAAARD:Maggie.

MAGGIE GYLLLLLENHAAAAL: Peter.

PETER: A word?

MAGGIE: Does it use the letter 'a'? Because our surnames may have already used up our daily quota.

PETER: No. The word is, "Yikes."

MAGGIE: I don't like that word.

PETER: How about "criminy"?

MAGGIE: That word sounds like it should be a type of fish.

PETER: "Jeepers"?

MAGGIE: An accessory to an off-roading vehicle.

PETER: Well, what word would you use to say, "Honey, that jumpsuit you're wearing is heinous and doesn't even fit you that well and it's rather unflattering and I could lose an entire bottle of Dom in the depth of the wrinkles from when you sat down in the limo"?

MAGGIE: Maybe just drop to your knees, wave your fist at the sky, and shout, "NOOOOOOOOOO."

PETER: Thanks. I'll try that next time.

Rachel Weisz should wear red for the rest of her life. She looks truly awesome in red.



But of all the red dresses in this godforsaken world, did Rachel have to pick one that looks like it was lying on her bedroom floor for two weeks? If the idea is to make people daydream about her being IN a bedroom, well, I'm pretty sure her DNA alone has the entire lady-loving population of the world already doing that. No need to stoop to wrinkles and shoes that MAYBE might strap into some kind of Portuguese sex trapeze.

Kristen Bell just trotted out something fresh from Marchesa's Spring 2010 presentation, and it's got me a tad indecisive.



Pro: It doesn't make her look stumpy.

Con: It does make her look bandaged.

Pro: It's intricate!

Con: It looks like it's a magician's assistant who accidentally swallowed the magic scarf and just sneezed it to freedom.

Pro: I love the restrained styling everywhere else.

Con: I don't have her shoulders.

Pro: I could maybe get her shoulders if I exercised more.

Con: That's so not happening.

Pro: Oh, really? You can't find ten minutes at night to do some push-ups or something before bed?

Con: Shut up.

Well, I may have figured out what Leigh Lezark does for a living.



It would appear she's starring in an interpretive dance production of Felix The Cat, in which  the titular character sells his soul to Satan and audience members are encouraged to huff superglue during intermission. Although, how any of that got her invited to Chanel's Spring 2010 show in Paris -- or why that show took place near a "Riding Off Into The Sunset" cowboy-themed senior prom photo backdrop -- is as yet unclear.

* Whoops, comments weren't opened before - but they are now, so read on...

Is it terrible that every time I see an ad for Couples Retreat, I want to die? Mostly because Jason Bateman is in it, I'm worried it's going to be terrible, and I love Jason Bateman and have since I was 8 and he was on Silver Spoons and I just want to PROTECT HIM FROM HARM? I also keep confusing it with The Perfect Getaway and I keep expecting the trailer to turn all...you know, freaky and scary and then I'm all like, "They're totally pulling a bait and switch on the marketing of this thing," and then I realize that, once again, I have no idea what I'm even talking about.



Which is why I'm turning it over to you to fix Malin Akerman here. I think she looks like she has a skirt pulled over another dress and has been the victim of a particularly violent ruching aficionado, but, again: I'm a confused person.

So, have at it, readers: please be as on topic and constructive as always.

Here are my questions:



a) Who does Amber Rose think she is: Lady Gaga, or Grace Jones?
 

b) Which one, if either, could she take in a fight?


c) Is this a jumpsuit, or are we looking at a horrifying leggings/one-armed mock-turtleneck combo?

d) WHY?

I have a total girl crush on Paula Patton and I don't know why.  I don't think I've ever seen her in a movie, although I did see Hitch, but I can't remember her in it because I can't remember anything about Hitch other than how I kept thinking how I sort of find Kevin James hilarious and ought I be ashamed of this fact? (No, I should not be: did you ever see the King of Queens where he dances on the stripper pole? He's funny.)



However, every time I see her I think, "who is that PRETTY LADY? Oh, Paula Patton. She's so pretty." I guess my girl crush stems from her being pretty. Because I'm shallow like that. But this time, I must confess, my thought process was more along the lines of, "Who is that pretty lady wearing a skirt made from hideous leftover window treatments from a depressing and poorly decorated brothel that's gone of out business in these, our depressed economic times? Oh, Paula Patton. She's so pretty. She deserves better." 

KATY PERRY: Hey there, Mr. Kaiser, sir.

KARL: Greetings, performer. What a fetching dress you're wearing. GLOW.

KATY:  It's one of yours.

KARL: By day you're charming. By night, a gleaming banana. SPLIT.

KATY: Oh, ha, I see what you did there! Funny!

KARL: No. Humor is the crutch of the plain, pet. BE GORGEOUS.

KATY: I don't think...

KARL: HARK. What's that I spy? Hint: Not a cat.

KATY: I... can't imagine.

KARL: You clutch my face. My head is a farm of inspiration, and it's the harvest. REAP.

KATY: Oh, great, because I have so many questions...

KARL: You mistake me. To listen is to find God in a pumpkin.

KATY: Is it... okay, how about this?

Well, sometimes I don't know what to say.


[Photo: Splash News]

But I CAN conclude this much: Rihanna missed being a Fug Madness candidate SO MUCH in 2009 that she's gunning for a seriously high 2010 seeding. And also that she appears to have left on the lab goggles she was wearing when she created that hair.

Surely, this dress Kristy Swanson is wearing stemmed from some kind of bet:



Like, I can see two designers -- who perhaps went to FIT or Parsons together -- having a long-standing routine in which one calls the other and challenges her to create a seemingly impossible garment. Like Project Runway, but crazier and without the celebrity judges and product placement. This dress was clearly born when Designer One called Designer Two and said, "bet you can't make an armed-forces themed evening dress with a can-can influence in which you could be rendered invisible should a sand storm kick up, and get someone to wear it." GAME ON, DESIGNER ONE.

When we were live-blogging the Emmys red carpet on E!, Heather and I first became aware that Shayne Lamas -- who was the last woman standing on the Bachelor season featuring Hot British Dude Matt Grant -- has gotten herself a new gig: LEAVE IT TO LAMAS, featuring the rest of her family and their -- I presume -- hilariously Kardashian-esque shenanigans. Which means, I fear, that we will see much more of this in the future:



I do not understand why every time we see Shayne Lamas, she's dressed like the pre-adolescent heroine of a Noel Streatfeild novel. Her waistless satin frock with a giant neck bow is IDEAL if you're an 11 year old theatrical prodigy about to charm the producers of London's most famous pantomime circa 1938, or if you're a plucky orphan/ballet dancer whose sisters recently nearly died of the influenza and you must land a well-paying role in order to even light the drawing room fire. If you are, on the other hand, a grown-ass modern woman who sprang from the loins of a man most recently known for being gross as a judge on Are You Hot?, then it's just a weird, off-putting disconnect.

Okay, Jessica. I will do it. I will say -- as I've already noted on our Twitter feed -- that I think the entire state of Texas and probably most of the ESPN staff both owe you an apology for claiming you were the problem with Tony Romo's play. Time and opposing defenses proved them wrong, as we knew they would, and I am annoyed that I drafted him in not one but TWO of my fantasy leagues, but that's what happens when there's a run on QBs and it's not my turn yet and oh my God is anyone decent going to be left when it gets to me shoot I'd better just grab the top-ranked person who is available and that is Tony Romo aha yes nobody took him he is MINE HA HA HA oh wait I don't know how I feel about this and now I'm stuck and my wide receivers suck too and I HATE DRAFTING.

Anyway, in exchange for my defense of you, honey, you have to do something for me. You have to HELP YOURSELF.


[Photo: PacificCoastNewsOnline.com]

Seriously, WHERE did you get that thing? From a Contempo Casuals store window in 1994?

[Photo: Splash News]

DOUG: Hey, Paris?

PARIS: Yes, Doug?

DOUG: What time is it?

PARIS: It's... hmm, let me see... Time To Stop Wearing Headbands O'Clock.

DOUG: Are you sure?

PARIS: Let me check again. It could ALSO be Crotch-Flash-Thirty.

DOUG: They BOTH sound right.

PARIS: Oh, no, wait, I can see -- it's actually a quarter past Our 15 Minutes Should Have Been Up Two Years Ago.

DOUG: I  KNEW it.

LAUREN CONRAD: Hey, Whit. Thanks so much for coming out to support my new Kohl's line.

WHITNEY PORT: My pleasure!

LAUREN: And just in case anyone is wondering, nothing you are wearing comes from my line.

WHITNEY: What was that?

LAUREN: Oh, NOTHING! Nothing. Shall we get a better look at your outfit, that I didn't have anything to do with? That you didn't even call or text me about?

I LOVE this picture.



Even Rihanna is all like, "Oh my god. WTF am I wearing? HOW DOES THIS THING WORK?"

Whoops, I totally forgot to write this post. PRETEND IT WENT UP EARLIER! What did we chat about on NY Mag.com, you ask? Just read the title of this post, my friends!

"You'd think that our national legion of fame whores would be allergic to putting even a toe in the shadows, but the number of covert marriages being unearthed lately -- most recent: Claire Danes, of all people -- indicates that hush-hush is a hotter trend even than rompers and sheer skirts. Secret weddings officially are the new DUIs: Suddenly, everyone in Hollywood seems to be getting one."

Don't believe us? It's true, and we approve. Read the whole column here, if you dare. (I can't think why you wouldn't.)

Hey guys,

Welcome to our newest feature here on GFY. We've privately been referring to it as Friday Afternoon Procrastination Station, because -- let's be honest -- who is doing any work on a Friday afternoon, anyway? Every week, we stumble on or are emailed awesome stuff that we can't figure out how to shoehorn into our usual content and it used to be deeply annoying that it went to waste. Then we realized that we're the boss of us, so there was no reason to be holding back. Behold, our first installment of Fugs and Pieces: Random Bits We Read This Week That You Might Enjoy, Or Not. Have a great weekend!

It seems formerly secret-married and now unsecret-divorcing Emmy Rossum is dating... Adam Duritz of the Counting Crows. Because apparently it's 1999, and she has a Sideshow Bob fetish. (Huffington Post)

We, like Spencer, are ALSO scared that he and Heidi Montag will have a child, so we fully support him cutting back on the sex. In fact, we think the world owes him a thank you for that caution. (MetroNews.ca)

A reader alerted us to this picture of Mischa Barton looking... well, like she's not taking The Beautiful Life: TBL's cancellation so well. (TMZ)

On the TBL tip, Sara Paxton complained "exclusively" to Latina about being cancelled and expressed a serious worry about what she's going to do with all her new furniture. Uh, sweetie? Call a moving company. (Latina)

We love a good Blind Item, and this one from EW's Michael Ausiello is pretty dishy. Commenters seem to have nixed David Boreanaz and Emily Deschanel from Bones, and Zachary Levi and Yvonne Strahovski from Chuck -- which, thank God, because we need both of those on-screen pairings to remain awesome. Maybe Marcia Cross and Richard Burgi from Desperate Housewives? Although we can't imagine MC acting ragingly inappropriate... unless she really IS Dr. Kimberly Shaw. (Ausiello Files)

We wish this article was online, but in the last print version of Us Weekly -- with poor sad Jessica Simpson on the cover -- there's an enraging bit in which Kourtney Kardashian's dumbass baby daddy expresses relief that at least their child will know its mother when she's young and hot and not an "old hag." Further sweet nothings: "Until I can spend at least a million dollars on a stone, I'm not going to propose. I'm not saying I can't afford that now. I just don't know if I feel like doing it today." Those girls make AMAZING life choices, don't they?

Sesame Street did a Mad Men take off that warms my heart. If you think about it, Jon "THE UNANAGRAMMABLE" Hamm DOES resemble Guy Smiley. A very troubled, extremely talented, super hot, secretive Guy Smiley. (Just Jared)

Speaking of people we'd like to marry, Jezebel put up a really genius clip from The Colbert Report this week, where Stephen wins "marry" in a "Do, Dump, Marry" game between him, Jimmy Fallon, and Conan as outlined in Glamour magazine. First of all: We all know that's not what the game is called, but nice try. Second, it's MAGICAL once Colbert realizes Glamour readers are cheating on him with Fallon. Seriously, if you watch one video online this week, give the honors to Stephen. (Colbert via Jezebel)

But if you decide to watch two, you need to check out what awaits you after the jump. It is safe for work. In fact, you might want to have a viewing party in your office:

Oh my god, hey y'all! What's up?


[Photo: PacificCoastNewsOnline.com]

I hope y'all have a full Slurpee because I have got A LOT to talk to y'all about and I don't have any time for y'all to get up and get a snack, like the last time I was talking to my mama about how Ed Morocco (or whatever the Sam Hill that tan man's name is over at E!) has been saying that Justin and Lucy from 7th Heaven are FINALLY breaking up and now we can seriously finally be together again -- like can you imagine the hilarious sequel we could do to "Dick in a Box"? I'm gonna entitle it "Arm in a Handbag" -- and she just stood up and said she needed a drink and she never came back, which I thought was really rude.

So anyway yeah I'm working on "Arm in a Handbag"  and I was going to call it, "Head in a Backpack," but Jamie Lynn said that was creepy and she says she should know since she's taking some dumb class on criminal psychology from the University of Phoenix because she says she needs to have an "actual job like a normal person" and I don't know why she always makes those little finger air marks and gives me a dirty look when she says that but whatever. She's been so crabby since that pipe layer knocked her up and I keep telling her what she ought to do is get REAL FAT and then go on The Celebrity Fit Club and then we made some mean jokes about Kevin that I won't illiterate here because they're not very nice and he is the father of my three children or however many I have.

I'M JUST KIDDING Y'ALL. I know I only have two babies, I'm not CRAZY anymore. Can't you tell from my outfit? This is CLASSIC BRITNEY SPEARS NORMAL Y'ALL! Cut-offs? Check! Belly-shirt? CHECK. Visible bra? CHECK. Stumpy UGG boots in 150 degree heat? CHECK. Messy blonde ponytail? CHECK. The only thing missing is a belly ring and a snake, am I right?! I am serious, y'all, if someone hit you over the head with a Crockpot and you woke up next to the computer and this picture was the first thing you saw you would totally think you'd been awokened in 2004 which just happens to be the year I released my Emmy-winning hit single "Toxic" which I think everyone knows is awesome. COINCIDENCE? You be the umpire.

Yeah, so even though when I left the house to go to Target to get tube socks wearing this outfit my Daddy like sighed real deep and said something about trouble, I think we can all agree that actually what this look means is that everything is going to be TOTALLY FINE because I could not be feeling more like myself! HOW MUCH LIKE ME DO I LOOK? I'm like a Halloween costume of myself I look so much like me. And it feels seriously awesome so I can only quote that sweet little curly-haired girl in Clueless and tell you that I hope me looking like me doesn't happen sporadically.

ANYWAY. Thanks for listening and I know you love the cut-offs so YOU'RE WELCOME and now I have to get back to work on "Arm in a Handbag." YOU KNOW WHO IS GOING TO LOVE IT although I might send him "Head in a Backpack" TOO because it is honestly catchy and Jamie Lynn is seriously quite dumb, you guys.

DON'T BE ESTRANGED!

xoxo

Britney

I need to sit down. Well, technically, I am sitting down. I need to stand up and then sit back down.



I feel like, in comparison to Lady Gaga's usual, this is the equivalent of one of us -- the pants-wearing people -- leaving the house in like, a pair of jeans layered over leggings, worn under two skirts and a pair of Bermuda shorts. Sure, I'm pretty sure this is what the cocktail waitresses at Vegas's newest American Revolution-themed casino -- Paul Revere's Alehouse and Whist Emporium -- are going to be eventually be forced to wear, but that doesn't mean it's not progress.

Behold, another notch on the downward spiral:



Not Lindsay's -- mine. I find of this VERY depressing.

I know that whatever a woman wears to take her kids on a hike is her own private business, generally speaking. But... you guys, I just had to make sure I am not hallucinating these pants.


[Photo: PacificCoastNewsOnline.com]

You're seeing tie-dyed harem leggings too, right? Are those even actually TECHNICALLY harem pants? What is the term for pants that are tight on the legs but have enough room in the crotch to hide Gwen's other child? Why do we live in a world where such a noun is necessary? Crotch-slings? Knee bags? Pantaballoons?

Also: Whenever I see anyone in pantaballoons like these, I wonder how they do not drive themselves insane wearing them. They're built to replicate the feeling of having your pants fall off as you're walking. Incidentally, I saw that happen to a guy on Ventura Blvd. He was strolling along with low-rider pants, and with each step they sank lower and lower until they finally fell off his ass and started flopping toward his knees, exposing his boxers. He kept right on going as if nothing had happened. Maybe HE'S the guy who pioneered pantaballoons.

I love you, Carrie Fisher.  Even without the many other reasons, I will always cherish you from When Harry Met Sally -- especially the offhandedly supportive way you delivered the line, "She doesn't have a problem with chins."

But we have got to discuss this.


[Photo: Splash News]

This look a bit like the New Year's Baby threw up on your head. The memoir you just penned is called Wishful Drinking, not Wishful Blinking, which is how I'd refer to your optimism that you -- or anyone for that matter -- could pull off applying makeup by confetti cannon.

** AHA. Apparently this was taken after she left the stage of a Wishful Drinking performance. Which I have seen, and yet somehow I don't remember the confetti. Or her eyes. But at least it makes more sense as theater makeup. Sigh. Oh, Carrie. I knew I never should have doubted you.

I think what we have here is a problem of proportions.


[Photo: PacificCoastNewsOnline.com]

That's probably a perfectly cute bronze jacket, a relatively fine or at least unobtrusive black top, and a normal skirt. But together, as worn on the town for Lo's birthday, they hit her in too many different places: The shirt cinches under the boobs, then the jacket falls below that, then the shirt cuts her across the widest part of her hips, and then finally the skirt. They do not work in concert with one another. And personally, on MY birthday, I don't want to look like I'm hiding a baby bump unless I actually AM. IS THERE SOMETHING YOU'D LIKE TO TELL US, LO?

Okay, probably not. In which case, Lo might want to take the $100,000 per episode that she makes just to stand around and look pissy and nod, and give it to a personal shopper.

Let's take stock of what's happening here with RiRi:



....actually, taking stock of what's going on here would require my ability to find the nouns to describe each of these pieces. Is that top a bra? Abutting a Units-like lace piece? Or...a bustier-like undergarment? Is the bra attached to the lace piece attached to the harem pants, in some truly HORRIFYING re-imagining of the old The Hip Bone's Connected to The Thigh Bone song, except the things that are connected are every part of her outfit and the only bones involved are the ones to which I am chilled?

Cheer up, Olivia Thirlby!



I totally remember my mother wearing this back when I was a little girl,* and it didn't seem to do her any lasting harm. YOU'RE GOING TO BE OKAY.

*I have just received an email from my mother in which she claims she never would have worn such a thing and I must be thinking of someone else. I HEREBY RETRACT THIS STATEMENT IN THE NAME OF FAMILY HARMONY.

Kimberly Wyatt, AKA The Pussycat Doll Who Is Currently The Only Pussycat Doll Leaving The House Which, If You Think About It, Is Kind of Weird, is deeply perplexing:


[Photo: Splash News]

Like, this is surely not the first time I've noted that a celebrity is wearing something previously modeled by Frank, the dude who lives in my alley, but it is definitely the first time I have meant it. 

Anne Hathaway just did orange in a gorgeous way, and now Alia Shawkat -- our beloved Maeby Fumke -- has done it in a Defcon 1 kind of way.



It goes to show that all those fashiony terms like "construction" and whatnot really have a purpose -- the top of this dress seems built to make her boobs frown. If that was the objective all along, then congratulations. You are the winner of this week's Rack Is Wack challenge. If not, then it's a shame for poor Maeby, and no amount of neck belts, corsage cuffs, or flowery coif-pieces can distract me from the fact that her chest -- in this dress; not in life -- is shaped like an upside-down Wienermobile.

Let's start at the top: Why does it look like Eve is wearing a toupee on top of her actual hair?



The rest of the outfit looks kind of like Rapunzel with a support-garment fetish. Personally, I'd hack off the sleeves and call it 100 percent better, but since I'm also a bit sick of boning and corsetry, I could stand to repave either the skirt or the top or both with some fabric that doesn't show all that. Also: Boning and Corsetry should be the title of a randy bodice-ripper with Fabio on the cover. It could be Project Runway but set in the 17th century, and with a lot more sexual allusions drawn to things like "broken bobbins" and "one day you're in, and the next, you're out." Excuse me, I have to go start writing...

In the meantime, while I am churning out pages of this future literary masterwork, what would you do to Eve's dress? (It goes without saying, I think, that the hair needs to be destroyed.) Have at it in the comments. The usual rules apply: be on-topic, be nice, be excellent to each other, and party on, dudes.

I get that whether your face looks good is totally beside the point of a Maxim cover. But come on:



This looks like it's her a mug shot from being arrested for Public Greased-Up-Itude. Also, what's with the veiled "empress has no clothes" insult? Usually when you invoke The Emperor's New Clothes, you're referring to someone who believes he or she is one thing, but who is in fact less than that. It's only because I know Maxim that I'm confident the editors legitimately are just saying, "LOOK! BOOBS!" -- otherwise, I'd take it to mean that Maxim got her naked and then decided it didn't find her that hot or special, and is using the cover line to snark on her subtly to all its douchey dude friends. Which, gentlemen, isn't the greatest thing to do to a girl when she's taking off her clothes. That kind of behavior gets you a boot to the nads.

At least if you're going to use careless literary references that are accidentally insulting, Maxim, pick a photo of Audrina's face that doesn't look like she's in a police line-up, okay? Give a girl a break.