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April 21, 2006

The Fuggie O'Donnell Show

Do you think Rosie O'Donnell's wife, the very cute Kelli O'Donnell, ever thought to herself at some point in the evening pictured below:

"Oh my God, I'm bound forever to a woman who thinks it's okay to wear a black denim vest in public?"

I know Rosie fancies herself a comedian, but does that mean she is contractually required to dress like Louie Anderson?

Posted by Jessica at 02:04 PM | Permalink

Fuggerman III

We haven't seen much of GFY Good Sport Kiki Dunst lately:

But it's comforting to know that even when she's laying low, chances are good that she looks mildly to moderately homeless.

Posted by Jessica at 07:58 AM in Kirsten Dunst | Permalink

April 20, 2006

The Sweetest Fug

Oh, yeah. This is a great look:

This outfit reminds me of a moment in my youth. Picture it: Southern California.  Late spring, 1993.  My senior English class sits in a warm classroom, all of us staring out the window and not down at our copies of Heart of Darkness. We have all been accepted to college. We are done with high school. My English teacher, Mr. Moran, asks a question about the book. None of us can answer. Not a single one of us has read even a word of it. We are all slacking off. Instead of berating us for this, however, Mr Moran just looked at us all for a long beat, sighed, and said, "Fine. I'll just TELL YOU what happened."

The look of resignation on his face, the look that said, "I could fight this, but why bother?," the total expression of having simply given up, but not really caring that he'd given up anymore, that's what we're seeing here on Ms Simpson. Her sister's cuter than she is now, her dad doesn't love her anymore, no one wants to see her movies or eat her Pizza Bites,  her best friend is cannoodling with her ex-husband, that skinny twerp from Maroon 5 dumped her via text...why bother? Why even wash your hair? Just toss on a schmatta and last season's LV and go out and eat some chicken wings with your accountant.

Posted by Jessica at 02:29 PM in Ashlee & Jessica Simpson | Permalink

Gretchen Fugson

I didn't understand this Kelly Kapowski-meets-Joan Collins halter-vestlette-fabric swatch until I went poking around for information about Gretchen Wilson and learned that her new album is entitled All Jacked Up, at which point the clouds parted, everything made sudden sense, and Handel's "Messiah"  burst through the heavens to fete my eureka moment.

Posted by Heather at 06:03 AM | Permalink

April 19, 2006

Fug Feet Under

The people with Lauren Ambrose realized a few minutes ago that she had thoroughly violated the Trouser Code's rule of the rise -- specifically, if it's long enough to park a car in, then it's too long. Alas,  something tells me Lauren Ambrose herself failed to figure this out until about two seconds before the camera clicked.

It guts me that we couldn't have prevented this tragedy, but hopefully, this public-service fugging will save from Mom Jeans mortification all the girls who are out there, somewhere, about to put a leg into pants it'll take them six months to zip up. Stop, girls! Let Lauren's folly be your friend.

Posted by Heather at 10:34 AM | Permalink

Fug Magnolias

So, Julia Roberts is one of the best paid actresses in the entire world, right?

Then why the hell is she wearing jeans that she: bought at the Gap in 1997; bummed around town in for six years; used as a dust rag for six months; rescued from the rag bag in 2004; wore when she moved to New Mexico; wore when she created her compost pile in New Mexico; forced Danny Moder to wear around the house while she was pregnant, so she could be with them at all times; wore when she was bumming around the house losing the baby weight and thinking pretentious, irritating thoughts about Phinnnnnneauaeausususs and Hazel; wore when she drove her moving van to New York; and wore, apparently, to every performance of whatever play she's in, ever.

Look, I get the appeal of the Grubby Jeans. Everyone has a pair. I have a pair. They're about nine sizes too big, have a giant hole in the crotch, and boast a pen and ink drawing of a flower on the right knee. I wear them only in the privacy of my own home, usually when I'm moving furniture or watching The Notebook and eating a packet of Mallomars flavored only with the salt of my tears (note: this has never actually happened).  But because I was raised IN A SOCIETY and not BY WOLVES I would never EXPOSE people to the HORROR of the grubby jeans.  For sweet pete's sake, Julia. Buy a pair of jeans manufactured in this millenium.

Posted by Jessica at 08:57 AM | Permalink

April 18, 2006

Just My Fug

Lindsay Lohan's Internal Monologue:

Shirt? Check.
Bag? Check.
Tights? Check.
Grandma sweater? Check.
Pants? OH MY GOD.

Posted by Jessica at 05:03 PM | Permalink


An excerpt from an IM conversation had by the writers of our sister site, Go Fug YourScientologist.com, located deep within the Scientology Center:

HALEY: Ew, did you see what Kate Cruise is wearing today?

JENNIFER: I know! She's FULLY wearing the 8-month pregnancy pillow instead of the 10 month pregnancy pillow. SO. GROSS.

HALEY: I KNOW. Why doesn't she just put on some LEGGINGS and call it a day?

JENNIFER: HAHAHAHAHAHHA. You're so funny. I can't believe John Travolta didn't think you were clear enough to ride on his plane last week.

HALEY:  Shut up, that really hurt my feelings. I heard he flew right past Xenu.  I can't believe I missed that.

JENNIFER: He totally didn't, unless Xenu lives in the Capital Records Building.


JENNIFER: Seriously, though, don't tell him I said that.


Here's the thing: Katie Holmes, of course, is dressed fine -- incorrect-sized [ALLEGED] pregnancy pillow aside.  But she looks like hell. Which is what HAPPENS when you've been PREGNANT for ONE YEAR.  For REAL. This is officially the WEIRDEST CELEBRITY RELATIONSHIP EVER. I mean it. Sweet fancy Moses (not you, Paltrow), what is going ON WITH THEM? Anything could happen with these two and I wouldn't be surprised. To wit:

  1. Katie Holmes "has" "the baby," and enters a nunnery. Tom Cruise raises the baby on his own. There's a lot of "I LOVE THIS BABY." Not surprising.
  2. Katie Holmes "dies" in "childbirth." Tom Cruise raises the baby on his own. Holmes is occasionally spotted around town, like Elvis, except in the shoe department at Neiman Marcus. Not surprising.
  3. Katie Holmes mysteriously disappears. Foul play is suspected, but there's not enough evidence for anyone to be charged.  Years later, it is revealed that -- with the help of a sympathetic Scientologist on the inside [Veronica Mars's Jason Dohring] -- Katie's parents, Joshua Jackson, Kevin Williamson, and Michelle Williams and Heath Ledger staged a dramatic kidnapping at Cruise's headquarters, spiriting Katie away to a small town in Ledger's native Australia where she lived out the rest of her life under the pseudonym Josephine Witter.  It is also revealed that an attempt to kidnap the baby was thwarted when Dohring and John Travolta quarreled over the last jelly donut at the Celebrity Centre and Dohring was rendered persona non grata at Casa Cruise in solidarity, thus removing the team's access. Not surprising.

Look. When InTouch and US Weekly are speculating that the pregnant starlet girlfriend of one of the biggest stars in the world is wearing a prosthetic belly, you are, at the VERY LEAST, in the middle of the most poorly -managed public relations disaster this city has seen in many, many, many a year.

So let's INDUCE THIS KID and get on with chapter two, already.

Posted by Jessica at 05:02 AM | Permalink

April 17, 2006



So, this tan little blonde number is Brittany Murphy [no. For real. I double-checked. I promise] :

With Paul Oakenfold, who looks both thrilled and terrified by what's happened to him, all because he agreed to work on Ms Murphy's tune, "Faster Kill Pussycat." He's like, "I don't think it's appropriate for me to actually grasp your spandax-catsuit-clad thigh. Is it? I don't think it is. I think I'll just sort of let you hold your leg up here and pretend to grasp it. Oh, God, take the picture already. Is she on drugs, do you think? I didn't think she was, but...look at the catsuit. If I've learned anything from my years on the music scene, it's that people in catsuits are generally on drugs. Right?  This is awkward. God, why did I agree to work with Jessica Simpson?"

Posted by Jessica at 06:33 AM | Permalink

April 14, 2006

The Emancipation of Fugly

There are some celebrities who show up at events wearing a ceremonial Native American headdress and a white Elvis jumpsuit and you just chuckle and say, "Oh, Cher. You so crazy. Don't ever change."  At some point, these certain fugly-dressing celebs -- the ones who push the limits of crazy dressing until it becomes, basically, mere costumery for their equally crazy personalities -- would disappoint us if they showed up somewhere in something tasteful. What would horrify us in, say, Lindsay Lohan, elicts only delight on someone like, say, Mariah Carey:

Oh Mimi. You're wearing a cropped demin jacket as a shirt, and you appear to have stolen your boots from Chewbacca. Don't ever change.

Posted by Jessica at 10:16 AM | Permalink


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