Carrie Underwood

It wouldn't be a country music awards gala if Carrie Underwood didn't wear eleventy-four different outfits through the course of the night. So, people of the jury, get comfortable in your chairs and prepare to sift through the evidence to determine whether a crime was committed. You may deliberate in the comments.

Exhibit A:

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The prosecution frowns that this mirrored dress mostly eliminates her waist, and reflects the red carpet in such a way that it becomes an artistic interpretation of internal bleeding. The defense snorts that the prosecutors are all a bunch of Crabby McCrabbersons, and puts in a call to some wig vendors to see about replicating this coif, because it's cute, and so is she.  The prosecution wonders if this would've been better at knee length, but quiets down when one of the defense attorneys tries to take a pair of scissors to her jeans in order to prove the point that not EVERYTHING needs to be knee-length, THANK YOU VERY MUCH.



Exhibit B:

Let's get the good news out of the way: Carrie Underwood -- Queen of the Costume Change -- started the evening in something only offensive in the sense that it incited me to a brief slumber in my seat:

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It's perfectly pretty, floaty, girly... there's nothing much to say about it, hence my spontaneous nap. I'm not inclined to rave, and I'm not inclined to rant.

But do you see that expression on her face? The pursed-lipped look of barely suppressed amusement, as if she's got a mischievous secret she almost can't keep? There is a reason: Carrie knew what she had in store for us later, and she deliberately lulled us into a false sense of peace. Check it out:
Good old Carrie Underwood. No matter what's happening in the world, you can count on her to wear at least three different things on any given awards show night, and generally they all leave me scratching my head and wondering if any of them are secretly cute, or overtly awesome, or obviously evil. It's like I have no fugdar with her. That's why the Fug Justice System exists. Take your seats, ladies and gentlemen of the jury. It's time for Exhibit A in The People vs. Yet More Carrie Underwood Outfits.

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The prosecution opens by noting that this looks like what a witch might wear to her local planetarium. Excited, the defense's second-in-command jumps up and announces that this has given him an excellent idea for his child's Science Fair project and asks to be excused. A prosecutor sneers that, if the idea if stomping on empty aluminum cans and then gluing them to a trash bag, then by all means, go, because then the defense will lose the Science Fair too. Dejected, the defender sits down and swigs from a hip flask. The judge holds him in contempt for not using a flask that straps to the ankle, which is more interesting.

Moving onto Exhibit B:

It seems this year's winner of the Needless Multiple Costume Changes award at the People's Choice shindig was Carrie Underwood, who wore a relatively tame three different dresses -- I mean, if this were MTV, she'd have changed 20 times -- and I can't quite decide how I feel about any of them. So let's put her on trial, shall we?

Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I present to you Exhibit A:

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The prosecution leaps to its feet and screams that this is a bit reminiscent of Sarah Larson's unpopular, shiny water-lilies-esque Oscar gown -- but as if this came from Monet's little-known Crabass Period where he threw a massive hissyfit over having to paint the same damn flowers all the time and rebelled by doing a portrait of the wallpaper in his mother's downstairs powder room. The defense narrows its eyes and points out that Carrie Underwood is seriously pretty and could make just about any old wallpaper look good, then casually asks if the pretty little souped-up four-wheel drive parked out front belongs to the prosecution, and sends a paralegal out to it with key. 



Next up is Exhibit B:
November 4, 2008

Fugly Underwood

We generally don't make a habit of off-topic posts like this, but it's Election Day, and we've been planning to poll you like crazy. So we're going to do things a little differently today -- mixed in with your regularly scheduled fuggings, of course -- and solicit the vote on a few vital issues of the day. Like, say, stuff that comes out of Carrie Underwood's mouth. VITAL.

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It seems that Carrie Underwood up there (it's an old photo; don't worry, she did not trot out the polterwangian pantsuit again) got cranky to TV Guide about the spectre of celebrities throwing public support behind one candidate:

"I lose all respect for celebrities when they back a candidate.... It's saying that the American public isn't smart enough to make their own decisions."

So I guess she's saying celebrities, by dint of being famous, should shut their mouths and clam up and not choose to be activists if there's anything they believe in, JUST because their fame might imply that America is too dumb to have an opinion without them? That seems extreme. Maybe she needs to go back to telling us all how long it's been since she talked to Tony Romo. And yet at the same time, I've rolled my eyes plenty when CERTAIN celebrities start talking about politics. Like, for instance, I know she's a person, too, but I can't bring myself to care what Paris Hilton thinks about the state of the world. I just can't. Ditto Heidi Montag.





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It's not that Carrie Underwood really looks bad here. It's just that she doesn't look like Carrie Underwood. At all. Every time I love at this cover, I think she's someone else: Kate Hudson, Katherine Heigl, some random girl I've never heard of, a very very Photoshopped Madonna. And pourquoi? Carrie Underwood is a babe. And she looks like a babe here. But a babe we've never met. Why even get a celebrity for your cover if you're going to make sure she doesn't even look like herself?
May 22, 2008

Carrie Underfug

If we had a GFY Suggestion Box, it would have been stuffed to the brim this morning with little pieces of paper suggesting, "CARRIE UNDERWOOD ON AI LAST NIGHT!" See, I was irritated with American Idol this morning. Not because of who won -- in fact, I really like Cook -- but because when I fired up the old TiVo and fast-forwarded through all the yadda yadda to get to the big reveal, this is what greeted me:

RYAN SEACREST: "And the winner...of American Idol... 2008....is.... David......" DING! Would you like to delete this recording? ACK! What? NO! SHOW ME MORE! I NEED TWO MORE MINUTES! (I actually think Seacrest is very good at his job, but the dramatic pausing is going to get him killed. POTENTIALLY BY IRRITATED TIVO OWNERS.)

Anyhoodle,  I was in no mood. But I crabbed to Heather, "I guess I need to look at Carrie Underwood," and she said, "Oh, no. YOU WANT TO."

And I did:

As ever, I apologize for the poor quality. You'd think the combination of me kneeling before my ancient television with my camera would produce better photos. Clearly, I need a 60 inch flat screen HDTV immediately. IT'S FOR WORK.

But yes. That is....a floaty shawl-like item attached only to the sleeves of her jacket and flittering around behind her like some kind of twee, toilet-paper-cape-esque accessory. Confused? Me too. Let's take another look at it:

In fairness, she IS singing about a drunken Vegas wedding, so perhaps we can excuse as being a rather literal costume. After all, you'd have to be drunk to wear it.

Oh, Carrie Underwood. I know I spent years and years railing about your habit of wearing formal shorts to perform, but I have to say, I rather prefer the shorts to this:

You're adorable and in great shape and very young. Now is not the time to dress like you're the headliner on Carnival Cruises' Nifty At Sixty Salute to The Golden Girls as interpreted by someone with a long-term Barry Gibb fetish. You are doing your bum a disservice -- which is not to say that your bum looks bad, merely that your bum would probably prefer to be encased in something less agonizingly cheesy. But maybe the front is better:

I love a good sequined dress. There's an adorable one hanging sadly in my closet because I have no occasion to wear it, and I may have enabled Jessica awhile back into purchasing a really hot one -- which, tragically, she has not had occasion to wear either, because we don't often throw ourselves formal parties and we're not big Los Angeles party girls. We'd generally rather eat red velvet cake -- or drink a Black Velvet, belt out "Black Velvet" in the car, watch Blue Velvet, or gently pet a velvet Elvis -- than contend with any velvet ropes.

That said, there are times when the mighty sequin backfires.


[Photo: Splash News]

One such time might be when you are Carrie Underwood, and you are wearing a dress that Liza Minnelli would employ as a blouse. The angel on my shoulder keeps saying to the devil that's dancing on my collarbone, "But look! It's so shiny and pretty!" And the devil breaks into "New York, New York," at which point the angel mutters something about Lucille Two and how Arrested Development was amazing, and the devil pulls out a photo of David Gest, and suddenly the angel is doing shots of Jim Beam. It's a confusing time.

For someone who seems like kind of a classy girl -- she doesn't talk much about her personal relationships in the press, she seems to wear all the appropriate undergarments, and she can certainly wail -- sometimes Carrie Underwood shows up places looking like she just raided Tabitha's Tack-o-Emporium and Ice-Dance Fire Sale:

I mean, okay, I'm glad she's not showing off her traditional Bustier-With-Train-Over-Jeans look, and, sure,  her legs look fantastic, but Lil' Miss Before He Cheats here also looks like she's about fifteen seconds away from strapping on ye olde figure skates and showing us all how to perform a proper double axel.

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