Aubrey O'Day Archives

September 15, 2008

Fugbrey O'Day

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girl groups,
WTF

"Are you there, God? It's me, Mr. Snuggles."

"Can you help me with something? Would you get rid of this camera that wants to photograph me, and then maybe zap Aubrey away with it? Her outfit gives me a headache. It's puzzling -- first, because the damn thing is SHAPED like a jigsaw piece, and two, because I have no idea what in Satan's chafing dish I am supposed to make of that pink layer. Is it sewn onto the dress? Sold separately? A metaphor for intimacy, or an ACTUAL dickey? What? And why does the rest of the pattern make me feel like I'm hallucinating the existence of a vortex right in the area of her upper thigh? Oh, I can't look. I'm just going to stare at the floor.

"Except, then I might see my shadow, and that will just depress me, because you know what? DOGS ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO HAVE PONY TAILS. OR PINK HAIR. Or pink stomachs, or pink... well, you know what, I am not going to show You. I am keeping my legs crossed because unlike 90 percent of this silly town, I cherish the mystery of my own privates. Humph. Why is she dragging me into this? Is it because I am cute? Because I have news for her -- NO accessory is going to make this next outfit okay:

Continue reading Fugbrey O'Day.

August 22, 2008

Fugmaged

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Dear Aubrey O'Day,

I take back everything I've ever said about you. I love you. I love you deeply. And for this:

A boa as a shirt, worn with leggings and possibly the ugliest boots ever crafted by the hand of man or beast? Yes. YES. In the dim, dark, dank days of August, when all the real celebrities are locked inside writing fanfic about having Michael Phelps as a swim teacher with sexy results, or sitting on their yacht in Portofino or whatever drinking a Bellini and laughing about those of us who are stuck at work, you, Aubrey, come through for me. You don't leave the house in a tasteful A-line shift with killer heels or a classy shirt-dress or an interesting toga or cute jeans and a beautifully complicated top. No. You think to yourself, "You know what? Those fashion and gossip bloggers are all at home in their caftans right now, crying into their Diet Cokes about how no one is leaving the house, and dreaming of those days in February when everyone and her mother is trotting around in some bullshit get-up pretending she's in the running for an Oscar. And so I am going to go out there and give those bloggers something to write about! Something just awful! And I am going to do it in boots I bought out of the trunk of some guy's car! Yes! YES!"

And for that, Aubrey, the Bellinis are on me.

Much love,

Jessica

August 5, 2008

Fugspray

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So, rumor has it that Aubrey O'Day here -- who, if I'm not incorrect, recently told people she was having a fling with Ashley "O Town" Parker Angel, who then had to tell the world that, actually, she was totally smoking crack: awkward -- is now having a fling with model/heiress/the woman who lured Chuck Bass away from Blair (like, I'm so sure. Blair + Chuck 4EVA!), Lydia Hearst:

[Photo: Splash News]

Can I get an additional "I'm so sure?" Directed toward: the idea that this affaire is anything other than a bald ploy for attention of the Lilo/Ronson variety; the fact that Aubrey is wearing a fur shrug in AUGUST; the very existence of Aubrey O'Day, whom Heather and I once mistook for that girl who used to go around impersonating Paris Hilton; Lydia's hideouso make-up; her side-boob; the fact that she's wearing a satin sheet with a newsboy cap that appears to be made of eyelet; and the combined "acting" "skills" of the two of them, which took what was surely intended to be a "pretend we're madly in love and I just said something hilarious" moment and turned it into, "let's awkwardly grimace on a street corner." Yes, surely it's true love.

July 28, 2008

Fugbrey F'Fug

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Seriously, is Aubrey O'Day bored? I thought she was taking a break from Danity Kane to do Hairspray. Are you telling me she has no time to work with the band that made her famous while she's on Broadway, but she DOES have time to hang out at TRL and chit-chat all the time wearing dresses with built-in capes?

Maybe not the best use of her time. I'm just saying.

This is, however, better than any of the t-shirts, headbands, and briefs Aubrey is selling (because these days pretty much any person with a Mystic Tan account also has a clothing line). We should all say a quick prayer of thanks that Aubrey has decided not to run around town hawking her own wares. But the tragedy of it is that ANTM winners Jaslene and Caridee were dragged into the fracas. It's like Aubrey's only editorial directive was that all the girls should hang open their mouths in a semi-drugged stupor:

Continue reading Fugbrey F'Fug.

July 22, 2008

Aubrey O'Fug

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In the scheme of things, I'll admit this isn't the worst of all the garments into which Aubrey O'Day has stuffed herself.

But I can't look at it without feeling suspicious that the last time I played The Sims, I bought this rug for my caddish French brothers Jacques and Croque Monsieur and put it right by the pinball machine and the big-screen TV, the better to try and steal the mysterious Bella Goth away from her oddly disinterested husband Mortimer. It probably had a description like, "For the totally undiscerning man who wants his decor to say, 'I am desperate. For YOU. Or anyone.'" And when Croque led Bella over to the rug and tried to lay a handsy hug on her, I believe she shook her head violently, conjured a thought-bubble full of an airplane and a typewriter and a giant red X or something, and made the same noise a real human would make while chewing a mouthful of tripe. In other words, the rug Croque-blocked him. I can't decide if seeing it on Aubrey means my poor tragique Sim has a soulmate after all, or that she shops at a store for the totally undiscerning woman -- or both -- but I'm pretty sure that wherever Bella Goth is, she's having some SERIOUS red-X-typewriter-airplane flashbacks right now.

July 15, 2008

Aubrey O'Fug

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Some days, the words escape me. So I figure you can write your own fug with this one. I'll help:

"Hi everyone! Aubrey here. Do you like this [ADJECTIVE] thing coming out of my head? See, I had a [NOUN] with my [ADJECTIVE] hair extensions, and it made me so [ADVERB][ADJECTIVE] that I threw a giant [NOUN] and ended up with a HUGE [NOUN] on my [NOUN]. Hence the giant flower, which looks a bit like I [VERB]-ed my skull on a [NOUN], or on someone's [NOUN]. Or, wait, maybe that actually happened. I don't know. I feel a bit [ADJECTIVE]. But, hey, at least it distracts you from this dress, which is like a [ADJECTIVE] mosquito net mixed with a [NOUN] and then stuffed in the bottom of a [NOUN] so it could get properly [ADJECTIVE]. It totally still makes you want to [VERB] me, though. Admit it. You're totally [VERB]-ing about it. I look like the Hawaiian Tropic girl, except with more [NOUN]. Some people say I look like that [NOUN] Paris Hilton, but I think I'm way, way more [ADJECTIVE]. What do you think? Maybe if I [VERB] it up a little? Here:

Continue reading Aubrey O'Fug.

May 21, 2008

Fuggity Kane

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Okay, if that's how you want to play it, Aubrey:

Personally, I would have gone for something a bit less Malibu Barbie Whips Up a Little Something Apres Shower and Decides to Wear It Out, but what do I know? I'm not even wearing shoes right now.

March 19, 2008

Fuggity Kane

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

December 5, 2006

Billboard Music Awards Fug Carpet: Danity Kane

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girl groups

Danity Kane reminds me of a line of dolls -- like Bratz meets Barbie -- whenever I see them. They feel so literally manufactured that it's hard to remember that they are each individual people, with individual feelings and motivations, as surely they must be:

Like maybe the one in the middle didn't want to dress like she just came from a Sharon-Tate-in-Valley of the Dolls-inspired lingerie ad. Maybe she wanted to wear the shiny, shiny dress on the end, which someone hemmed until it looks like something the protagonist would wear in the final scene of Ice Princess II, when she has to go out and skate the performance of a lifetime or else Communism will prevail. (For serious, Sarah Jessica Parker wore that dress sometime in the last year, and it was about, oh, six inches longer.)

And maybe the one in the coffee-colored nightgown -- seriously, it's very romantic for your trousseau, but leave that in the hope chest -- would rather switch outfits with the Trumpet of the Swan over on the other end. She might be covered in feathers, but at least she's covered.

Sadly, no one wants to be the one who looks like she ripped the gray taffeta tablecloth off the dressing table of the girl with the hope chest and belted it. Not even her.

Aubrey O'Day

Fugbrey O'Day

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Fugmaged

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Fugspray

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Fugbrey F'Fug

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Aubrey O'Fug

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Aubrey O'Fug

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Fuggity Kane

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Fuggity Kane

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Billboard Music Awards Fug Carpet: Danity Kane

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