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January 26, 2006

Random Fug: Jemima Rooper

British actress Jemima Rooper really out did herself at a recent premiere, don't you think?

Leggings and leg warmers? Over sneakers? With a messenger bag? And what looks like a shiny spandex figure-skating skirt? Seriously, the only possible and acceptable explanation for this is that she's just come from three hours at the rink, where she's training to do her own stunts in a remake of Ice Castles, and it was a really, really rough day because today they were practicing the scene where she goes careening into a bunch of folding chairs and sits up all blind and shit, and things went horribly wrong and now she IS blind and this is the first outfit she picked out after she lost the ability to see.

Posted by Jessica at 07:42 AM | Permalink

January 25, 2006

Fug, Is It Me You're Looking For?

There are several things about this picture of Nicole Richie that make me sad:

[Via Oh No They Didn't]

1) Nicole,  say what you will about her alarming lack of body fat, is probably the only person in the western world who can pull off the boho thing and still look elegant, which she does 96% of the time.  But I think the lack of protein in her diet has gone to her brain, because this outfit just ain't right. And if her clothes go south, I don't know what we've got left with her.

2) Look how fly Lionel looks. For real. I can't help but think that he's looking at his little -- and I mean that in all senses of the word -- girl and saying to himself, "I am really upset about how thin she is. Also, what is that vest? Damn." So in addition to hurting our eyes, Nicole is also hurting a man who by rights should be dancing on the ceiling, all night long (all night), over how great he himself looks.

3) No, really. What is up with the string vest? God, people, if anything is a cry for help and attention, it's a string vest. Let's get this girl straightened out.

Posted by Jessica at 12:18 PM in Nicole Richie | Permalink

Fug to the Future

Crispin Glover and Courtney Peldon and the wedding of the year?

No snark, but merely a heads up that the Queen of GFY, Ms Courtney Peldon, does appear to be wearing an engagement ring on her left hand, and she and Crispin "McFly" Glover sure do look cozy here, don't they? Let's be honest: despite our rampant bitchery on the subject of her wardrobe, we secretly love La Peldon, and want her to be happy in all her tacky, mismatched, trashy glory. If McFly makes her happy, well...that does make some crazy kind of sense, doesn't it?

Frankly, we're a sucker for the man who told Lea Thompson that she was his density.  And when it comes right down to it, who's denser than Courtney Peldon?

We just hope we're invited to the wedding.

Posted by Jessica at 07:51 AM | Permalink

January 24, 2006

Fugerly Fugert

Maybe I'm going soft in my old age, but I am starting to feel bad for poor little Kimberly Stewart. I mean, look at her:

That sad little Alice band, the pathetic little rabbit-fur collar, the so-summer-2005 white motorcycle bag, the nipples, the knee-length leggings? This outfit is a louder cry for attention than even her "engagement" to Talan ever was. If she REALLY wants attention, of course, she needs to get hospitalized for exhaustion -- actually, no one would notice that, would they?  I take it back. The only way for her to get us to really notice her in a way above and beyond the level of "ew" is obviously to marry a low-level Scientologist and have his baby. Or, you know, quit partying, go to college, get a job and turn out to be ultimately well-adjusted, but that seems terribly unlikely, don't you think?

Posted by Jessica at 12:53 PM | Permalink

January 23, 2006

You Fug Us! You Really Fug Us!

What a delight to wake up this morning -- bleary-eyed, hair on end, and desperately, desperately needing sweet coffee, the elixir of life -- only to find that  Go Fug Yourself has been nominated for three Bloggies! We haven't been this pleased since the day we learned that Britney and K-Fed served chicken fingers at their wedding reception.

So many thanks indeed to the kind readers who put us up for nomination. And if we win, the next round of chicken fingers is on us.

Posted by Jessica at 01:02 PM | Permalink

Fugdance: Bai Ling

At this point, it's hard to be surprised by the wacky antics of Miss Bai Ling, don't you agree?

Although I do enjoy that she's wearing two belts. We all know she'd be SO EMBARRASSED if her skirt fell down and people could see any of her lady parts! No! Not her lady parts! She's so private and discreet, that Bai! She is SO CAREFUL to keep things covered! Two belts, see? Two!

What I really enjoy most about this picture though, is that the man over her right shoulder is paying NO ATTENTION to the attention whore in front of him. He's all like, "No, I have to go to the Gersh party tonight and make the rounds and then I have a screening of something at like ten -- NO, I COULDN'T GET INTO ANYTHING EARLIER, I ALREADY TOLD YOU THAT -- and then I'm going to try to meet up with this girl I met on the shuttle from the airport. I think her name is Jennifer. Shit! There's some moron in front of me getting her picture taken and I almost totally wiped out trying to avoid her. I don't know who she is. Whatever, dude."

And the woman over her left shoulder is, of course, Lizzie Grubman, and Lizzie Grubman's expression says it all. It says, "wow, I can't believe I'm actually seeing this. And when I, Lizzie Grubman, who ran over a bunch of people with her car sort of kind of on purpose, although not really, but maybe a little, am mildly grossed out and alarmed by the actions of a starlet, that really sort of says something, don't you think? God, I'm kind of having a good time, though, in spite of myself. Wow, is she wearing two belts? Amazing."

Posted by Jessica at 11:00 AM in Bai Ling | Permalink

January 20, 2006

Milla Fugovich

Well. I wouldn't buy a newspaper from this woman, that's for sure:

I think I'd be afraid that the ink was tinged with whatever hallucinogens compelled her to a) wear the hat in the first place, and b) pair it with a figure-swallowing scarf-dress. I don't even know what to say about the fact that she's allegedly getting her own design line, except that I'd love to put Milla, this badly bastardized wrap dress of her own creation, and genre mastermind Diane von Furstenberg in a room together for two days with nothing but a pair of pinking shears, a copy of Martha Stewart Living, and one Diet Coke. Let's see who comes out alive, Milla. I don't think it will be you. And I really don't think it will be that thing.

Posted by Heather at 02:57 PM | Permalink

The Prairie Home Fugpanion

Prithee, Mistress Lohan,  whither art thou tights?

Dost thou not agree that when a maiden taketh on doublet -- howsoever bare -- and breeches and disguiseth herself as a lad, in the manner of such good works by Sir William Shakespeare as As You Like It or Twelfth Night, the maiden needth likewise spare a thought to the hairlessness of her legs which will surely give away her disguise, revealing her to be a lady fair and not a brutish hairy man, and puteth on some hose? And indeed, Mistress Lohan, while thy lack of tights will surely destroy the historical accuracy of thine perplexing disguise of Shakespearean pantaloons, thou shouldst be aware as well that in this, the first month of the year, the month of the pagan lord Janus, thy lack of hose shall surely also lead thee downst the path to that most dreaded of afflictions, "hypothermia," and surely thereafter to thy most vile enemy, "exhaustion." Thou are indeed aware that when thou last fought "exhaustion," thou emergest from Ceders Sinai in a form both skeletal and creepy. I pray, Mistress Lohan, if thou insist on wrapping thyself in the robes of thine Shakespearean ancestors, prithee, give a precious thought to thine health! None of us art equipped, either in heart, brain, or humours, to deal with yet another of thy stints in the infirmary. Not again.  No, not e'er again.

Posted by Jessica at 07:24 AM in Lindsay Lohan | Permalink

January 19, 2006

Fuget Fugster

Adorable showkiller and Go Fug Yourself regular Paget Brewster strikes again:

What does it say about her fashion sense when my thought on seeing this dress-cum-beach towel is, "at least she's not carrying a fish purse?"

Posted by Jessica at 03:23 PM | Permalink

Golden Globes Fug Carpet: Anne Hathaway

I had to sit with this photo for a while before deciding to post it. Because, see, there are some celebrities to whom I just can't warm, at all, and Anne Hathaway is one of them. I put her in the category of people who, much like Miss Emmy Rossum, exude a certain aura of insufferability -- whether that is true to who they are or not -- that makes me instantly dislike them despite knowing almost nothing about them (except, in the case of the former, that I have yet to like her in any role, and in the case of the latter, that she was shockingly bad in Phantom of the Opera and needed to close her mouth, find an expression for her eyes, and stop sliding off key).

My point: I didn't want to fug the dress because of my arguably irrational lack of appreciation for the person wearing it. But then I realized: a) it's well-documented that neither Jessica nor I has a soul, and b) I really legimately don't like what she's wearing.

Can't a major designer (I think this one is from Marc Jacobs) do better than a one-strap, off-the-shoulder mid-calf prom gown speckled with sequins as if meant to embody a "Some Enchanted Evening" theme? I swear I saw this on the rack at Macy's. And while I have nothing against Macy's, I feel like a starlet's night out at the Golden Globes -- indeed, a starlet who is in a nominated film and who finagled herself a seat next to the director so that she could be as closely visually associated with the film's success as possible -- deserves, nay demands, something a bit better. This is nothing special, and does nothing special for her. You know how people say that TV and movie sets will have to get more lush once everything is broadcast in high-definition, because you'll be able to tell that the backdrop of New York City outside the window is actually just a bad painting on canvas? That's my analogy for this dress. It's not a real Globes-worthy gown; it's a cheap setpiece.

She also needs a new color of lipstick. I saw her lips half an hour before I could make out the rest of her face.

Posted by Heather at 01:08 PM in Golden Globes | Permalink


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