America Ferrera

Well. America Ferrera looks fantastic from the neck up.

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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:
Here is the thing: America Ferrera HERSELF looks great. Just cover up her dress with your hand and see for yourself:

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Very pretty! Which is why it's so sad that she decided to wear something the color of much-used dishwater to the SAG Awards. I am hoping this is one of those things where someone who was there would be all, "DARLING, it was GLORIOUS in person, like a very SUBTLE violet-grey-beige-taupe-y color, simply DIVINE. Really. And that terribly sad black tulle sash was actually a BRILLIANT commentary on MELANCHOLY as expressed via FABRIC. It was TO DIE, truly. Truly, it was." Or else I'm afraid I just don't understand it.

November 11, 2008

Fug or Fab: America Ferrera

At first, I was all, "she looks so pretty!" and then I was like, "but is it too busy?" and then I was like, "BUT I LOVE IT," and then I was like, "but does it look like her navel is leaking ink?" and then I was like, "I WANT TO BUY IT."

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I think -- after literally hours of pacing, crying, tearing out my hair, and sobbing to the heavens for guidance -- I'm coming down on the side of LOVE. I think.
 

July 29, 2008

Fugly Betty

For a while I was undecided enough about this to make it a "Fug or Fab," but then the following happened: I got a huge headache, and a 5.8 earthquake hit southeast of me and lasted for a very long-feeling 30 seconds, knocking some stuff crooked on my walls. When I came back to my computer, I hated the dress. Perhaps this is the Earth's way of nudging me toward a conclusion.

From the neck up, America Ferrera is hot:

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From the neck down, though, I've decided that I am clearly SUPPOSED to like it, and yet I will not give in to its chicanery. The fit around her boobs looks really off, like they're being squeezed into a tube; the black bar looks like an afterthought, as if Tim Gunn had just floated by the designer's station and said, "I'm worried. It's boring. Work very hard on adding some interest"; and the shoes -- gorgeous on their own -- are distracting here because they're too close-but-not-quite to the dress color. She should probably just go ahead and send those over to me.

And it's just so very swirly. And shiny. And SWIRLY. Which is not always bad, but somehow here it's got me both squinting and cursing that I was born with a propensity for seasickness -- although the fact that my floor was rocking back and forth may not have helped. With those same shoes in black and maybe a shrug of some kind, maybe the fabric might not have distracted me as much. I don't know. I need a drink. All my pictures are crooked on the wall. Maybe the quake dented my brain. This fug is brought to you by the letter AAAAAAAARGH, the glass of Bailey's I'm about to drink, and the hyperactive tectonic plates of Southern California. I guess America Ferrera can at least say that what she wore to the Hooray, Magic Pants: More Trouser Magic premiere made the Earth move.

There are many things I like about America Ferrera. For one thing, I think she's adorable on Ugly Betty, in a role that could too easily be cloying, or sad-sack-y.  I loved her in The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, not that I saw that, or cried at it. And I love that she's probably the only actress her age in Hollywood currently sporting her own hair, breasts and teeth.

I also love her in this dress:

The color and the cut are both really good on her: they flatter her skin tone and her body without being boring. She looks tall and curvy. Which, by the way, I don't mean as a Euphemism For Fat. I hate the fact that "curvy" now means, in Secret Hollywood Patois, "tubby." For example, according to Star Magazine, Jessica Alba recently said to a journalist, "I know I'm curvy. I'm working on it." Fast-forward to Jessica Alba dropping ten pounds she didn't need to drop. CURVY IS GOOD, PEOPLE.  Curvy is sexy and feminine, not Marlon-Brando-In-A- MuuMuu-Fat. Women -- all women: naturally very thin women, naturally not so thin women, flat-chested women, big-breasted women, ALL WOMEN -- have, as we learned from America's debut film, some curves of some size somewhere on their body.  IT'S OKAY.

I was thinking about this yesterday (in between trying to figure out what our government should do about Darfur and meditating on the existence of God in the 21st century, obviously), and I came to the conclusion that I seriously think America is so freaking cute and fresh-faced, and her body looks GREAT here, and therefore, I really hate the idea that at some point, she is going to drop twenty pounds and start Mystic-Tanning the shit out of herself, just because someone told her she had to do that to be considered for more mainstream roles. Because you KNOW someone is going to do that. Because, as you may have noticed, as a rule, certain people in Hollywood tend to have their heads up their asses regarding the subject of How All Women Are Supposed To Look In Order To Be Considered Sexy.  When, really, America shouldn't do a thing: as Mark Darcy said to Bridget Jones, we like her very much. Just as she is.

Which, for the record, is adorable in a perfectly-tailored purpley/navy number.

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