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January 31, 2006

Hooked On a Fug

Here at Go Fug Yourself HQ, we operate under very few rules.  But there is one rule we live, and, yes, die by. One rule that can not be broken. One rule we hold close to our hearts and cuddle and treasure like a tiny blind three-legged puppy that saved our mothers from a house fire.

And that rule is: don't hassle the Hoff.  Because once you've lived through his mind-blowingly masterful video of "Hooked on a Feeling," and, therefore, known true joy, you realize that this man?

Is pure goodness and truth. "But, Jessica," you say, "he's wearing a frock coat." SHUSH. "Um, did you not notice that the frock-coated is STRIPED SATIN?" you ask. HUSH. "It's a STRIPED SATIN FROCK COAT! A FROCK COAT!" you scream. And to that I reply, BITE YOUR TONGUE, CHILD. This man wore OVERALLS OF FUR with aplomb.  He rocked a GIRDLE UNDER SWIMMING TRUNKS. He was man enough to concede stardom to a CAR.  I say, he can take that shiny, shiny, ridiculous, Las Vegasean striped satin frock coat and wear it all over town! ALL OVER TOWN, I TELL YOU! I shall NOT hassle the Hoff! Not for you! NOT FOR ANYONE!

Posted by Jessica at 12:38 PM | Permalink

January 30, 2006

SAG Awards Fug Carpet: La Fanning

An open letter to the Fanning family:

Dear Fannings:

Congratulations! Nice job on the DNA -- you popped out one very talented young girl, and apparently her sister isn't awful either. You two are the Richard and Oracene Williams of child actors, although hopefully without the once-crippling sibling rivalry that would lead to speculation in 10 years that Dakota totally threw her performance in the remake of Armageddon because you both felt it was Elle's turn for Oscar recognition (which she would then choke and fall short of by failing to nail down the appropriate amount of grief during her starring turn in the remake of Pearl Harbor).

At any rate, well done. But you have got to stop dressing Dakota like one of those Madame Alexander dolls that were super popular back in the late 1970s and early 1980s. [They might well still be popular, but as dolls come in second only to clowns in unbearable creepyness, I have stopped keeping track.] I mean, look at her up there. She's a March sister on the verge of spinsterhood. I know she's eerily wise beyond her years, which will either come in handy when she's an adult and has to make her own life decisions, or come back to bite you in the ass when she marries a backup dancer with unsinkable seed and uncleansable seediness. But I do think she needs to have a bit more fun. Luckily we can't see any bloomers here, but I don't trust that they're not there. Unless she just walked off the set of a Bugsy Malone-style remake of The King And I, then that sort of garb is a wee bit old for your still-young child. She only has the eyes of a 30-year old, people. Let her look her age.

Sincerely, and also, props for keeping her from getting really messed up after her little-seen first-ever movie role in the Jerry O'Connell-Jake Busey-Shannon Elizabeth instant classic Tomcats,

The Fug Girls

Posted by Heather at 01:29 PM in Misc. Awards Shows | Permalink

SAG Awards Fug Carpet: Rachel Griffiths

Oh, Brenda.

I think I've seen this outfit before. Where was it? Where was it? It's right on the tip of my tongue. Oh, yes! On the cover of the bodice-ripping novel Love, Remember Me, wherein the beautiful English heroine is kidnapped and sold into a harem in some unnamed but beautiful and exotic Middle Eastern country, where she's forced to have threesomes with other girls in the harem and she's very against the threesome in theory, but when she does it, she sort of secretly likes it, but not as much as she likes the English lord she was engaged to before she was kidnapped, even though he's not as kinky as the guy who owns the harem. At one point in that book, she wore this outfit. And then the harem housemother made her take it off because the color washed her out. 

Posted by Jessica at 12:49 PM in Misc. Awards Shows | Permalink

SAG Awards Fug Carpet: Bahar Soomekh

I can't get on board with this trend of busy cropped overlays on dress bodices. From a distance, Bahar Soomekh looks like she's had a rather unfortunately timed explosion of chest hair.

Posted by Heather at 10:55 AM in Misc. Awards Shows | Permalink

SAG Awards Fug Carpet: Reese Witherspoon

After that flap at the Globes about her ugly "vintage" dress and how Kirsten Dunst wore it first in 2003, Reese Witherspoon clearly decided to play it safe at the SAG Awards, opting for an extremely ill-fitting modified apron that nobody -- BUT NOBODY -- would have been caught dead in before. "Take THAT, y'all!" the saggy, unflattering bodice is drawling at us. To which we say, yes indeed, she certainly showed us.

Posted by Heather at 10:23 AM in Misc. Awards Shows | Permalink

January 27, 2006

I Didn't Fug Your Boyfriend


Ashlee Simpson Named DERELICTE Spokeswoman.

Los Angeles -- January 27, 2006.  Ashlee Simpson is officially the new face of the DERELICTE line, DERELICTE spokesman Harve Montalban announced at a press conference held today at  DERELICTE headquarters in downtown Tarzana.

"Ashlee has really impressed us with her grasp of the DERELICTE lifestyle," Montalban told reporters. "For the last several months, she has lived, slept, breathed, ate and walked DERELICTE. When we thought she could not get more DERELICTE, she proved us wrong, as you can see from the photo to my right [attached to this press release].  Ashlee IS DERELICTE."

Montalban rejected reports that DERELICTE was looking to replace its former spokeswoman, Mary Kate Olsen, because she had shown up at several events looking clean and happy. "Mary Kate decided it was time to focus on her acting," he said. "We're sure she's still DERELICTE on the inside, and we wish her the best."

Speaking through her agent, Simpson said that she was thrilled to be the face of DERELICTE. "I've been a fan of DERELICTE for a long time," she said. "Finally, someone's noticed me."

DERELICTE Inc. is a leading international fashion line offering clothing, accessories and personal care products for men, women, children and babies under the DERELICTE brand name. Worn almost exclusively by desperate starlets and lazy rich people, DERELICTE takes its name from the word "derelict" and embraces the idea that it's cool to look homeless when you're actually a millionaire.  Fiscal 2004 sales were $204,562.39. DERELICTE Inc. operates about 7 stores in the United States, the United Kingdom, Canada, France and Japan, and is considered one of haute couture's hautest lines.  For more information, please read US Weekly.

Posted by Jessica at 12:56 PM in Ashlee & Jessica Simpson | Permalink

Fugamund Pike

It's a Brit frenzy today on GFY. May I present to you Rosamund Pike, actress and latest perpetrator of what we affectionately call The Scrolldown:

Right when you think we've gone off our respective rockers, you get to her feet, and it all becomes clear. Bobbysocks and cheap wedding shoes? Wedding shoes that, from some angles, might possibly have a thong between the toes that is -- I can't believe I'm writing this sentence -- interrupting the flow of her sock? It's... man. I tend to assume that some rules just aren't going to get broken because nobody actually wants to look like the Norwegian entry in the Eurovision Song Contest in, like, 1986. But, Ms. Pike proves that's not true. That'll teach me to be complacent. Constant vigilence is required now.

Posted by Heather at 12:14 PM | Permalink

Tara Palmer-Fugkinson

Tara Palmer-Tomkinson is one of those British equivalents to New York socialites: upper-crust, hungry to be a celebrity, yet tragically devoid of any talent by which she has been able to earn honest fame (one bio claims she fought allegations of her stupidity by trumpeting her number of A-levels in the paper, and then promptly became a low-grade bra model).

Ergo, Tara P-T's shtick is basically finding a way to get invited to things, playing along with OK! and Hello! and Now and Heat, perhaps dropping by a rehab clinic, getting alarmingly skinny, and wearing whatever actual working famous people are wearing so that she'll look like one of them.


Yes: formal shorts. And tights, too. Maggie Gyllenhaal would be proud. She is one part Sporting English Lass Who Fancies Herself Heir-Bait, one part Sienna Miller, one part Fuggie and her shiny tights of doom, and about a quarter-part Olsen twin.

Posted by Heather at 11:30 AM | Permalink

Fuggie, Fuggie, Fuggie...

Maggie Gyllenhaal fascinates me.

No matter what she's wearing -- gown, jumpsuit, fur-trimmed bathrobe with unnecessarily complicated belting system and dowdy tights -- she always looks from the neck up like she's just come from the gym. What exactly is she trying to achieve with that hair?

Posted by Heather at 10:50 AM in Maggie Gyllenhaal | Permalink

January 26, 2006


It's sort of a no-brainer that this outfit is weird. Fishnets, pixie boots, the whole Santa's-On-Vacation-So-Let's-Throw-A-Cocktail-Party-Before-He-Gets-Back-And-We-Have-To-Start-Making-Toys-Again aura that the ensemble projects, the fact that Lisa Sheridan really ought to stand up straight... it's all sort of right there in your face, along with all the Invasion jokes about what manner of aliens appear to have begun inhabiting the part of her brain that manages her wardrobe.

But what really makes me sad about this photo is how pre-crazy Katie Holmes it is. Look at her -- she's got that vibe, that sort of weird awkwarness to her expression, like she's still sort of nervous about having to smile at these things; there's the shiny hair, the bangs, the unprepossessing manner, that slouch... all those things are hallmarks, to me, of what Ms. Holmes used to do when she'd go out in public. And, ergo, all those things make me sad that Katie Holmes herself isn't getting to do this stuff. She should be going out to things at TCAs and promoting her work -- real work that she got herself, and which hasn't been selectively edited -- and she should be making cringe-worthy fashion choices and buying ill-advised pixie boots while she and Michelle Williams talk about gay cowboys, instead of shopping for pumps at Barney's with Posh Spice. We should be getting to make horrible puns like, "Wow -- Dawson's Reek!" And, "Poor little Joey Potter -- they always said she had 'It,' but we didn't realize 'It' meant 'sartorial dementia.'"

As it is, we have to settle for "Kate Cruise," leech on a man-alien, incubator to the Rambaldi baby (or whatever that thing is in there), and altogether pitiable pregnant lady who just makes us all hurt a bit for how miserable she's going to be soon, if she isn't already. And while she tries to convince herself that selling her soul so she could be famous for who she's with rather than what she's done at work was actually a really stellar idea, her rightful place in the annals of Ugly But Youthful Fashion Errors is being usurped by other pretty girl-next-door brunettes like Ms. Sheridan, who are clever enough to shack up with tiny men who are at least hilarious and awesome, like her alleged fiance Ron Livingston.

So: Bad outfit, Lisa, but good on you for not going all the way toward being Katie Holmes.

Posted by Heather at 01:02 PM | Permalink


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