February 12, 2008
Grammy Awards Fug-or-Fab Carpet: Nelly Furtado
As ever, I with Nelly Furtado would stop making that face on the red carpet like she just downed an entire roll of SweeTarts that had been marinating in lemon juice. But I will try and set that aside, as it might take a lifetime to deprogram that instinct from her and I have far too many seasons of The Wire to get through; instead, let's focus on the rest of it.
I've never liked the blonde hair on her. Especially here -- it looks like she dipped a comb in some peroxide and ran it through once before leaving. As for the gown, I think it's a perfect example of how all the romantic draping can backfire on a girl -- instead of making her look floaty, it pulls around her hips, gets all bunchy, and essentially makes you stare at her midsection trying to figure out what's her and what is courtesy of all those folds. She's looked better, is what I'm saying.
And she can't even stand comfortably in it without creating some weird, unflattering angles. Learn your angles, Nelly! Did Tyra Banks create magical, magical television for NOTHING? DO NOT MAKE TYRA'S LABOR IN VAIN.
I do, however, love the color.
It's like she came so close to a victory, but in the end, has to settle for Miss Congeniality. Although in this case, it's Miss Biting The Insides Of Her Cheeks Because She Kind Of Wants To Cut That Bitch Who Won The Crown But Instead She Needs To Keep Smiling And Just Think About World Peace. So I'm throwing it open to the masses to see if the hue saved her or if nothing could -- or, if the world thinks she's a beacon of deliciousness and I should just let my tiny ship crash on the rocks and reveal my secret cargo of hot pants. One thing's for sure, though: Based on that last sentence, I should not fug before I've had breakfast. Strange things happen.