Taylor Momsen

November 20, 2009

The Fug Who Stole Christmas

In our last piece on Taylor Momsen, which was complimentary, Jessica entreated her to "enjoy the [lack of wailing] as long as it lasts."

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Well, I hope it was a soothing four days for her. Although the thing is, I don't even think I have that much of a problem with the dress -- it's kind of funky,  if alarmingly boobalicious on a kid who isn't old enough to vote, much less drink. But the MAKEUP. DEAR GOD. The words to that song are engraved on my brain. It goes to the tune of "Where Are You, Christmas?" which Taylor up there ought to know since she sang it on film.

Where are you, light switch?
Why can't I find you?
Why have you gone away?

It's too dark to tell
Whether I look like hell
Is my makeup putrescent and heavy?

Where are you, face wash?
Do you remember
The girl you used to clean?

You can undo my errors
So I'm not a terror.
Did I lose you
Or did you leave?


November 16, 2009

Fug0,XFug, Fugsip Girl

Don't look so crabby, Little J.

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[Photo: Splash News]

Either the Gossip Girl costumers are reacting to the public's generally horrified reaction to Taylor Momsen's usual Crotchtacular Faux-Punk style by wrapping her in as many yards of fabric as possible, or Little J has fallen through a rip in the space/time/reality continuum and has found herself living in a Henry James novel (this incarnation of which offers extra sequins). Either way, she should be thanking God we're not all screeching about how we can see the top of her thigh-highs. Enjoy the silence for as long as it lasts, kid. 

October 21, 2009

FugFug, Fug Fug, Gossip Fug

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:

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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.

October 20, 2009

Fug or Fab: Taylor Momsen

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:

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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?"

October 14, 2009

The Fugfather

Why are you running from us, Taylor?

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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?

September 30, 2009

Jenny Fugphrey

Look, I know the people on Gossip Girl are fake, but come on -- would Rufus Humphrey really be okay with this?

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[Photo: Splash News]

Assuming my eyes do not deceive me, that is Little J's shirttail hanging out from her skirt. Which means she's wearing bottoms that are not as long as her top. And I know Rufus is kind of caught up in his own drama, what with Lily being out of town and them having a secret love child together that they think is dead, and all the time he clearly has to spend nurturing his Man Bangs and writing '90s-era rock songs about how gnarly it is when your stepdaughter drops out of college and turns into a tabloid-baiting -- albeit also amusing -- asswad. And I know he's kind of into being to his kids what the principal who announces he's your "princi-PAL" is to high-schoolers. But even amid all that, I'm pretty sure Rufus Humphrey would take one look at Little J trying to leave the house in this, or ANY of her terrible ensembles, and be like, "Jenny, your crotch is not an accessory. GO TO YOUR ROOM." So could we get on that please, Gossip Girl? It's not going to WORK, but he should at least TRY.

September 24, 2009

Clinique Fresh Fugs

Clinique and Teen Vogue kicked off their "Fresh Faces" tour this week in the following manner:

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Um. I don't know if "fresh" is the adjective I would be using myself.
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LINDSAY: I'm hungry.

TAYLOR: No, I am.

LINDSAY: I'm disaffected.

TAYLOR: No, I am.

LINDSAY: I'm really into eyeliner.

TAYLOR: No, I am.

LINDSAY: I'm wearing nine yards of cheap fake hair.

TAYLOR: No, I am.

LINDSAY: I'm bleaching the hell out of it, too.

TAYLOR: No, I am.

LINDSAY: I'm wearing an insect ring.

TAYLOR: No, I am. ... Wait, no, I'm not.

LINDSAY: I'm wearing thigh-highs.

TAYLOR: For once, I'm not.

LINDSAY: I'm all messily orange and shit.

TAYLOR: Not I!

LINDSAY: I look like I got punched in the lips.

TAYLOR: Nope.

LINDSAY: See? We're nothing alike.

TAYLOR: NOTHING.

September 11, 2009

The Pretty Fugless

Holy MOLY, Momsen. I don't even know how to be funny about this. I get what Taylor's perception of herself is, I think, but SERIOUSLY?

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I know you think you're a rock star now and everything, but it bears repeating: YOU ARE SIXTEEN YEARS OLD. WHERE IS YOUR MOTHER? MRS. MOMSEN, I SWEAR TO GOD, IF YOU ARE OUT HAVING COCKTAILS WITH DINA LOHAN AND TOASTING YOUR AWESOME PARENTING SKILLS THEN I AM GOING TO ... shoot, what am I going to do... aha: I AM GOING TO CONTINUE USING ALL-CAPS UNTIL YOUR DAUGHTER PUTS ON SOME MOTHERFREAKING CLOTHES. YES. TAKE THAT.
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MISCHA BARTON: Hey, Taylor.

TAYLOR MOMSEN: Hi, Mischa. How are you feeling?

MISCHA: Well enough to wear unflattering formal shorts!

TAYLOR: Aha! So you're back to normal.

MISCHA: I thought I was off-limits for criticism due to my recent, very sad mental trauma.

TAYLOR: Oops. You are.

MISCHA: Thank you.

TAYLOR: Although now you're claiming it was wisdom-tooth pain and not any deep psychological pain, so maybe you're NOT off-limits after all.

MISCHA: Well, just to be safe, let's leave me alone for a while and focus on YOU. Because you have problems.

TAYLOR: I do?

MISCHA. HONEY.

TAYLOR: ... I guess I AM wearing a really expensive tube top. Like, REALLY expensive.

MISCHA: You look like a bad special effect in Twilight. Please pull yourself together before you, too, suffer from heinous wisdom-tooth pain.

TAYLOR: I'll think about it. But first, I HAVE to ask you one more thing.

MISCHA: Fire away.

TAYLOR: WHY is your new show called The Beautiful Life: TBL? What is that about?

MISCHA: Isn't it AMAZING? They should change your show to Gossip Girl: GG.

TAYLOR: Are you joking? It's like an extra-stupid reversal of CSI: Crime Scene Investigation. I mean, hello, by the time we get to the colon, we all already know what "TBL" stands for.

MISCHA: We do?

TAYLOR: ... What did you think the colon-TBL was about?

MISCHA: I thought it was, like, the airport code for a REALLY EXCLUSIVE private airstrip in New York.

TAYLOR: ... Yeah, I think we're done here. Seriously, I'm glad you're okay. Stay strong.

MISCHA: Thanks.

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