Lindsay Lohan

June 29, 2009

Tales of a Teen Age Fug Queen

So, this weekend was Lindsay Lohan's 23rd birthday.

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[Photo: WENN.com]

Happy birthday, Lindsay! I bought you a present! Guess what I got you!?

May 28, 2009

Freaky Fugly

Lindsay, you're doing it wrong:

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[Photo: Splash News]

Use the bag to cover your heinous acid-washed jeans and 1993-era flowered bustier, not your face.
May 20, 2009

I Fug Who Fugged Me

You know what, Lohan? You go ahead and stick out that tongue at us all you want.

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[Photo: FlynetOnline.com]

Because we -- and I think I can speak for everyone on this planet, and perhaps a few beyond it -- are not the ones showing up at a business meeting in a genie jumpsuit made of someone's leftover powder-room wallpaper. So you go right ahead and wiggle that thing until it withers and falls off; it just means you'll have two strikes against you, while we'll be able to taste sweet superiority by dint of still having actual taste buds. AND NO JUMPSUIT.

May 18, 2009

Fugly, Fully Loaded

So, now we're just wearing our bathing suit and cover-up all over town, even when we're not in Hawaii?

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[Photo: FlynetOnline.com]

Girlfriend. You're shopping in Sherman Oaks. There's no ocean close enough to Sherman Oaks to justify the fact that you're not just wearing your bathing suit out, you're wearing it with the saddest, most droopy, downtrodden cover-up ever. You wear this to the snack bar to get an ice cream, not out in PUBLIC where people will SEE YOU. I KNOW you want attention, but this is BUMMING ME OUT.
May 12, 2009

Mean Fugs

Last night, I randomly caught Mean Girls on cable, and got sucked into watching pretty much the whole thing. What can I say? Regina George victimized me into watching, and then I got hypnotized by LiLo's pretty red hair and THEN got stuck on how much smaller her eyes looked when they had her wearing all that heavy black pencil around them -- you know, really important details that are totally worthy of lengthy scrutiny when I have a pile of about seven New Yorker magazines I could've been reading instead.

Anyway, for the eleventy-zillionth time, I was struck with just how unkind life -- or maybe more accurately, Lindsay herself -- has been to our girl since that movie.

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[Photo: FlynetOnline.com]

I mean, there's nothing THERE any more. She went from being a girl with a promising career and enough meat on her bones to be slender yet curvy, to being a brittle twig with no promising prospects who wears see-through Flashdance shirts with bikini tops, has my grandmother's hands, and clearly doesn't enjoy any of the finer things in life, like chewing food. Was it really worth it? Would she REALLY do it all over again -- the rehab, the dribbling out of clubs, the bad reputation -- just to fit into size 00 jeans? Someone really needs to sit her down Clockwork Orange-style and make her watch Mean Girls over and over again before we find out the hard way whether it's possible for a person to occupy negative space. I'd also recommend ditching the clogs, but whatever -- let's take baby steps here.



May 1, 2009

Fug of a Teenage Drama Queen

Oh, Lindsay.

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[Photo: FlynetOnline.com]

When I repeatedly IMPLORED you to leave the leggings by the wayside, I meant that you should THEN PUT SOMETHING ELSE ON THE LOWER HALF OF YOUR BODY. Not that you ought to run all over the place in what are, for all intents and purposes, basically undies. I know you are in Hawaii. But Hawaii is not an alien planet where all the rules of polite society can be safely ignored. In fact, it actually is part of the United States of America. And, like the rest of Earth, it is peopled with human beings, the majority of whom are not visually impaired. You are in the parking lot of a mini-mall. You are not on the beach, at the pool, in your hotel room or your backyard or your own balcony. Those are the ONLY PLACES that we, as a society, have agreed that it is okay not to wear bottoms. You are not trotting across resort property to grab a daiquiri and a club sandwich. You are in a public place. I guess Dina never taught you this, but when you go to the Ritz Camera for a new memory card, you NEED TO WEAR PANTS. Or shorts. Or a sarong. OR SOMETHING.  WE EARTHLINGS HAVE SEEN ENOUGH OF YOUR INNER THIGHS. PLEASE RELEASE US FROM THIS NEVER-ENDING CYCLE OF PANTLESSNESS.
March 26, 2009

Fug or Fab the Cover: Lindsay Lohan

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[Photo: Nylon Magazine]

(a) Congrats to Nylon for making it 10 years; especially considering the current state of print media, that is an accomplishment.

(b) Congrats to whomever scrubbed the spray tan off Lilo. I hope you got a bonus.

(c) I had boxer shorts in the same print as whatever those bottoms are IN 1999, and I felt like Kelly Taylor when I wore them around. Kudos for verisimilitude!

(d) IS Lindsay Lohan REALLY a "pin-up for a new era"? I feel like, "a hot mess for a new era" might be more accurate. Or, "a Meredith Baxter Birney for a new era."

(e) Those are...some extensions.

(f) If cropped sweaters are coming back, I quit.
 
March 4, 2009

Tales of a Fug Drama Queen

Riddle me this, Batfuggers:

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[Photo: Splash News]

If we've gone from pants to leggings, and then leggings to PLAIN OLD TIGHTS, how long is it going to be before Lindsay leaves the house wearing NOTHING AT ALL?

Just wondering.

February 18, 2009

Fugly, Fugly Loaded

You guys, I'm worried that Lindsay is back on the sauce. Or something. Let's talk about what happened at Matthew Williamson's store opening party-thingy a few nights ago at Fashion Week. She showed up looking like this

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She looks great, right? Okay, a little zonked out, but otherwise pretty sexy and fabulous. Which is why I think she has to be back on the sweet yam yam, because otherwise NO ONE should have been able to change out of this, and into THIS:


February 16, 2009

Fugly: Fully Loaded

Its totally understandable that Lindsay would have to wear a Charlotte Ronson shirt -- which is what I assume this is -- if she's attending her girlfriend's sister's fashion show.

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But there is nothing in the etiquette books that dictates Lindsay must consent to donning a see-through top with stirrup sleeves and a bra-strap-ventilation system which, for all we know, snaps at the crotch like all those bodysuits we bought in the early '90s. What was the inspiration here? Early Melrose Place Characters Who Were Written Out Because, Even Amid Stories About Billy's Dad Who Sold Carpets, They Were Too Boring For Words?

Actually, I might eagerly go to that fashion show. But I wouldn't WEAR it. Not until Halloween.

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