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September 21, 2006

Fugly Fug

Giving credit where credit is due, Fergie came across as fairly sweet on The View the other day -- when you get her in full conversational flow, she drops that idiotic street-talk cadence she adopts everywhere else, and so she actually seems sort of human. Maybe even regular.

If you close your eyes, that is. Because half the time she's running around in stuff like this, which just makes me laugh, shake my head, admire her abs (again -- due credit) , and then shudder and laugh again.

This whole decision that her debut as The Dutchess (why the stray T, Fergie Ferg? Are you shouting out to all your peeps in The Netherlands? Holla back, Amsterdam!) requires folding her clothes in half strikes me as a bit hilarious. This is not the first time she's done it -- you may recall she wore a white shirt and tie this way at the VMAs, when she performed her single. Which by the way was so wrong for The View that I could only cringe in empathetic embarrassment while she was grinding and bouncing around, and I silently thanked God that Baba Wawa wasn't there to see it, because knowing she was there somehow would have made the experience even more discomfiting for me.

Anyway. With shirts like this, Fergie reminds me of a very awkward pre- or early-teen standing in front of the mirror and tucking her shirts up under her bra in idiotic configurations, just to see what wearing a belly-shirt would feel like. I think a lot of girls did that when they were younger; I certainly did. First you tuck it under your bra outright, then when you realize that is not going to work, you try that thing where you bunch it all into one long tail, pull it up and under your bra, and then yank the tail out the neck hole. This looks completely idiotic but it kept the shirt up; the whole strange enterprise was a rite of passage of sorts, I think. I never did it because I particularly wanted to wear a belly shirt (okay, sometimes maybe there was an air of, "Could I... could I maybe... possibly...?" but it was always followed by an immediate return to consciousness along the lines of, "Wait, no, sweet God, no, the world is not ready for my negative-six pack") but, well, Madonna wore belly shirts, and anything Madonna did sartorially was pretty bodacious -- except maybe for the conic bras -- and worth trying to imitate in the privacy of your own home.

I stress: in privacy of your own home. Fergie Ferg, it is never, ever a flattering or attractive idea to tuck a shirt under your bra -- or look as if you have -- unless perhaps somebody is about to operate on your stomach and a very attractive person is holding your hand, wiping the delicately attractive sweat of pain off your brow, and staring into your eyes while whispering that there is No Other Way.

In conclusion, her shirts are silly, and I have revealed too much. 

Posted by Heather at 01:20 PM in Fergie (the Pea, not the duchess) | Permalink

 

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