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December 19, 2005

Fuggy Holidays

Just when I feared she might have gone into hibernation for the holidays, Courtney Peldon has appeared once more to gift us with that special brand of fug that's all her own.

Were we printing up our own Christmas cards, we would want something like this on the cover. It's a perfect storm of fug -- the hugely unflattering cut, the furious tableaux that occupies 80 percent of available real-estate, the arm straps -- and it's the perfect postcard for us to send as we sail off into our two-week seasonal hiatus. Yes, believe it or not, even cold, dead, tar-hearted vixens of negativity need some warm-and-fuzzy time during the waning days of December.

We invite you to peruse our extensive archives during our absence; we'll be back in full force on Tuesday, Jan. 3, after all the wine and cheese and cake and starches and little chocolates shaped like Santa and egg nog and chocolate martinis and Christmas Eve bangers-and-mash dinners have settled in our round bowls full of jelly, and we're feeling sufficiently less lethargic that we can haul our carcasses up off the couch and sit down at the computer for brief, energizing spells of bitchery.

And don't worry -- we may be gone, but we're still watching. Waiting. [Britney, we know you're going to leave the house again soon enough and venture out in public to pretend you're still happy -- just rip off the Band-Aid, pet, and let us see what you've been moping in lately.]

Happy Holidays! And thanks to all our readers for making 2005 such a blast. We'll see you next year!

Posted by Heather at 03:30 PM in Courtney Peldon | Permalink

Random Fug II

This dress is somewhat unflattering, rather see-through, and wholly hideous -- I mean, lady, I GET IT, you have breasts, and that's great, but if you're so determined to show them off then just call Lil' Kim in prison and ask if you can borrow something -- but there is another reason I wish that this Lina person hadn't worn it.

Quite frankly, her navel scares the life out of me.


[Photo by Daily Celeb.]

That is chapped evil, right there. You are staring into the eye of Satan. Have you ever seen the South Park "Woodland Critter Christmas" episode? If you have, then you'll understand why the words "blood orgy" are so appropriate here. And if you haven't, well, you are figuratively (and in some ways literally) staring at the belly of the beast in this photo. That thing is all monster. Don't stare at it too long, or you'll be compelled to drink the blood of a righteous woman while carving pentagrams into the walls.

What is it planning? Why did it insist on rending a gaping hole into this dress, forcing Lina to go outside in something that does not show her off to her best advantage? Was it hoping to cross paths with a jewelry-toting hobbit? Was it trying to blink a message to the TomKat fetus? Was it hoping to brainwash her into going to a screening of Just Friends, so that Lucifer could use The Eye to gaze upon his most recent cinematic handiwork? What? WHAT? WHAT DO YOU WANT WITH US?

Posted by Heather at 11:30 AM in Random Fug | Permalink

Random Fug

This "Lesa Amoore" woman, in addition to once being in a Corey Haim-related reality show -- and the host of something I don't want to know about called Munch Kidz that claims it's an "animated/family" program -- purports to be a celebrity stylist.

And I believe her. You can tell by her carefully slovenly appearance:

Ms. Amoore plainly wants you to think she was sleeping peacefully until a big earthquake hit, and in a frantic effort to escape wearing just enough that she could still feasibly make all her social commitments, she pulled on the nearest pair of tights -- and snagged them! O, the tragedy! -- and her boots, and her dining room drapes for a little extra "coverage," and made a break for it.

It's the L.A. version of Mary-Kate Olsen's Homeless Co-Ed In New York movement. Yep -- earthquake-chic. It's coming.

Posted by Heather at 09:02 AM in Random Fug | Permalink

The Family Fug

Sarah Jessica Parker thinks nobody warned her against wearing this dress, but in actuality, she simply couldn't hear them: The skirt first enters the room so many minutes before her body that it absorbed everyone's cries of protest.

Posted by Heather at 06:40 AM | Permalink

December 16, 2005

Fug's Anatomy

First of all, a little housekeeping: thanks for your patience this morning while the site was partially down. It was a snafu on the Typepad side of things, but everything seems to be up and running now!

So let's get down to business:

Now, look.  Katherine Heigl is beautiful. She was beautiful when she was some kind of alien-girl on Roswell, and she's beautiful now. And as anyone who watches Grey's Anatomy knows, she's got a totally smoking Real Girl body (and no, that's not a euphamism for "fat," the way "curvy" is in People magazine.) Girl is hot.

So I am very confused as to why she would wrap said body in what appears to be kitchen curtains covered with some kind of terrible Salute to Split Pea-colored tulle overlay. I'm not against ladylike, retro clothes, at all. When done right, they work beautifully (see Parker, Sarah Jessica and Witherspoon, Reese). But this dress is like an Homage to Pleasantville Told Through The Assorted Fabrics of  My Grandma's Sitting Room, and that, my friends, suits no one.

Posted by Jessica at 04:54 PM | Permalink

December 15, 2005

Celebrity Bloat Watch: Luke Wilson

A sly reader alerted us to the fact that Luke Wilson might not just be The Non-Stallion Wilson, or The Non-Genius Wilson, or The Non-Crazy-Nosed Wilson -- he is also becoming The Non-Non-Puffy Wilson.

Research indicates that although this camera angle displays budding bloat better than others, it's not a swelling effect that is created by the photo itself. No, it seems that Luke is in danger of coping with not being Hollywood's most beloved Wilson brother by retaining whatever water he can find -- that way, at least he has something that Owen doesn't.

So the GFY terror-watch experts are nudging Luke up to Terror Alert: Blue, with a hearty warning that he's headed for the Yellow Brick Road (see Appendix) if he keeps this up, and thus is not too far from having to eliminate pretzels entirely from his diet.

Appendix: BLOAT WATCH TERROR LEVEL CHART

SEVERE:

MY GOD MAN, GET AHOLD OF YOURSELF.

HIGH:

Think about getting back on the smack.

ELEVATED:

Seriously, cut down on the sodium.

GUARDED:

Maybe look into a seaweed wrap?

Low:

Keep up the good work.

Posted by Heather at 03:34 PM in Celebrity Terror Watch | Permalink

Fugmerican Idol

Simon Cowell's girlfriend Whatshername is currently suffering from what we here at GFY HQ refer to as "the scroll down." In other words, at first glance, her ensemble looks fine, even good. But when you scroll down to see the rest of the photograph -- and the outfit -- your face catches on fire.

Waist up: hot! Sexy! Sexy! Hot! Sure, I think that's a lariat around her neck, but let's all look the other way! La la la!

Waist down: ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGH SWEET FANCY MOSES AND HEAVENLY GOD IN... HEAVEN! CROPPED! HAMMER PANTS! This outfit is 2 Legit 2 -- AAAAAAAAAAAAAGH, GOD, I CAN'T EVEN GET THROUGH AN ENTIRE HAMMER JOKE. WON'T SOMEONE PLEASE STOP THE BURNING?

I do have to admit that if my face hadn't been rendered unto ashes thanks to her cropped Hammer-panted jumpsuit (a phrase which I believe actually brings forth the End Times), I would note that her shoes are totally fierce and I need them.

Posted by Jessica at 08:46 AM | Permalink

December 14, 2005

Kelly Fugbourne

Apparently, it's not just fugly that's the new pretty -- looking like you're headed down Carol Channing Ave. toward its intersection with Norma Desmond Blvd., complete with crazy face paint and a wig that looks like it's been bound to your skull, is ALSO the new pretty:

By all accounts, Kelly Osbourne is not actually an insane old lady who is clinging to her youth by trying to slap eighteen inches of cake makeup on her face, the better to both hide her age and maintain the sickly pallor that was so popular back when she was a girl. And yet, she is all done up like one, complete with that head thing that seems to be anchoring the hair in place, and foundation that's a clown-like shade of white. I'm fair-skinned myself so I'm attuned to jokes about being wan and looking like cold death, but... she looks like a complete moron. And maybe a dead one.

Kelly, let me level with you. You are pretty, and can look charming -- when you get it together. This is not one of those times. Perhaps it is I who is the old crone, because of what I'm about to say to you: Young lady, you need to march upstairs and scrape that gunk off your face RIGHT NOW, from the chalk to the Hollywood Blvd. lips to the other layers of chalk that you'll get to once you dig beneath the first three. And don't come down until you're all scrubbed, or else... um... I'll give all your Converse to the Salvation Army. You hear me, young lady? Don't hide your pretty face. And don't look at me that way. I just want what's best for you. When you're mother's out there talking about having sex with your father every night they're together, well, you don't need to put on a DEPRAVED face; you need your BRAVE face. Now go.

Posted by Heather at 07:21 PM | Permalink

Fug Kong II

Hopefully the King Kong premieres aren't over yet, because it seems we could fill the site with photos of what Naomi Watts is wearing to them.

Apparently, Naomi does not watch Las Vegas on NBC, or else she would have learned about the dangers of billowing dresses from the tragic death-by-wind of Lara Flynn Boyle, whose extra fabric got caught by a gust the right way-- er, or wrong way, I guess -- and blew her clean across the Strip and through a hotel window to her (ostensible) death. Such are the perils of insane sleeves, and certainly, there is enough superfluous stuff on this outfit to sew three backup dresses. The whole thing mildly evokes the weird fashion of our favorite Icelandic nutjob who herself seems fond of odd-shaped gowns that may or may not have a bizarre cape element to them. Paging Bjork!

Posted by Heather at 11:55 AM | Permalink

Fug Club

Well, I've heard that there ain't no party like an S-Club party, and former S-Clubber Jo [AKA, The One Who Could Really Sing During That Time When S Club Had That Saturday Morning TV Show That OKAY, FINE, I TOTALLY WATCHED], is certainly DRESSED for some kind of party:

Honestly, this outfit isn't that bad. Sure, she's obeying the command in the hit S Club song, "S-Club Party," that asks for "hoochie mamas" to "show [their] na-nas" -- I presume "na-nas" are boobies -- but the tights and the undertank keep her from looking like a real hoochie mama. The skirt is a leetle short and a leetle acid-washed, and she's a bit OLD for this entire outfit, but...okay, fine. She looks fine. She looks just fine. I mean, the weird halter top thing makes her look like she has NO NECK WHATSOEVER, but other than that, this outfit is okay.

I JUST WANTED TO SAY "HOOCHIE MAMAS, SHOW YOUR NA-NAS." IS THAT SO WRONG?

And if S Club Jo had to be sacrificed for that cause, I'm fine with that.

Posted by Jessica at 11:39 AM | Permalink

 

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