April 30, 2008
Picture it: it's early. I have not yet consumed my customary metric ton of coffee. I am looking at pictures of celebrities, bleary-eyed and not really concentrating (I am thinking instead about American Idol and how boring it is this year, or something equally profound). I see this:
I think, "WHAT is Justin Long WEARING? And that's not DREW BARRYMORE. Did they break up while I was on vacation? WHAT IS GOING ON?"
Ten minutes (and a cup of coffee) later: "OH GOOD LORD. That was ROSS. What is WRONG with me? What is wrong with HIM? What is with that TIE?"
Half an hour later: "Seriously, Justin Long. I'm so sorry. You only look like Ross when I am severely under-caffeinated and a little blind. Although maybe this means you should think about a haircut. Schwimmer, I apologize to you, too -- I guess I briefly forgot you existed. And we had some laughs together. Remember that time someone at work ate your sandwich? That was a good time! And at least I took you for someone way younger than you... right? Swap out the tie and hit the Mach-5 and everything will be fine! I promise!"
Posted by Jessica at 12:29 PM | Permalink
Well, at least she's clothed.
But somehow Leelee Sobieski comes off looking not like a nice young actress, but rather somebody's wicked stepmother from a 1980s soap -- one on which, say, she just married Morgan Fairchild's father in a scandalous February-to-December union, and so we are treated to a number of scenes in which Morgan slinks around the house teasing up her hair and sneering, "Hello, MOTHER," as Leelee swans by in a cloud of linebacker shoulder pads and billowing sleeves. I'm pretty sure there would be a part in it for Emma Samms also, with the occasional appearance by Young Pierce Brosnan as a corporate rogue with dollar-signs in his eyes and fur-covered handcuffs in his heart.
And while that show would be awesome, that ship has probably sailed, so Leelee might need to go ahead and put away the bathrobe before she's relegated to playing a young Meredith Baxter-no-longer-Birney in a Lifetime movie about all the Lifetime movies she's made.
Posted by Heather at 11:15 AM | Permalink
Fug Or Fab The Cover: Julianne Moore
I have had many a conversation over the past week or so about this cover, and they all go something like this: "She looks hot! But the whole thing is sort of unseemly. But it's FRENCH! But it's just TOO MUCH. But maybe it's SEXY. But it's also sort of creepy. But that color is great. But I don't need to see her in this S&M panties-coordinated-with-belt thing. But at least it's interesting! But it makes me feel sort of uncomfortable. But maybe that's the point! But I hate it. No, I love it. No, it's terrible. No, it's AWESOME. No. Yes. No. I don't know. GOD, WON'T SOMEONE PUT IT TO A VOTE?!"
Your wish is my command, dear reader:
Flush with the glow of her Fug Madness win, our girl Bai Ling has remained wonderfully unafraid to leave the house. Incidentally, she did actually mention her victory on her delicious blog, although for some reason that entry feels to me like someone else wrote it -- no matter how much we riff on her many personalities, in my heart of hearts I can't believe loony, gentle Bai would seriously call us Earth people "stupid," even if she is simultaneously excited to be a champion of something.
Anyway, back to Bai. When I first saw this photo last week, I feared she'd gone all demure on us in the wake of being declared The Fugliest Of Them All.
It's just so very SERIOUS, like she's decided to quit acting so she can attend Austria's prestigious Milkmaid School, where you don't get to show cleavage until you are fully certified.
But I should've known that Bai Ling, especially in this recent L.A. heat, would not stay serious and amply clothed for too long.
[Photo: Splash News]
That's more like it! I feel like Bai isn't truly being Bai unless she's running the risk of some seriously inconvenient tan lines. Which isn't to say that ONE of her personalities isn't enrolled in a course teaching her how to make her own lederhosen out of cow hair; just that she's clearly doing it by correspondence so that the others can still scamper about in Carmen Miranda's old lingerie.
April 29, 2008
"Yeah, that's right, I'm Mischa Barton and I'm wearing a bathroom rug as a jacket. What of it? You'd rather I had another greasepig boyfriend with me instead? A total clap-incubator who's about to pass out on a pool of vomit he freshly delivered onto my feet? I DIDN'T THINK SO. Bet the coat's not looking so bad to you NOW."
MTV Australia Awards Fug Carpet: Lyndsey Rodrigues
Empirically, I know this is a flesh-and-blood person wearing a skirt over pants.
But I still can't help hoping that this is actually the very latest and greatest in Italian "FRAGIIIILE" leg lamps. That the poor schmo who gets this major award in the mail has a big fight with his wife in his future when he tries to put her on the bedside table.
A few weeks ago, I got secretly sucked into Girlfriends, which was on at like 1 a.m. when I was suffering from a wicked case of insomnia. It's SOAPY, you guys. And very entertaining. Much like former cast member Jill Marie Jones, here:
I know. What IS that? Is she wearing super short cut-offs under there? Ratty boxer shorts? A weird, deconstructed super-mini mini-skirt? And why would she think ANY of those things would go with her jaunty 60s-style hat? It's a MYSTERY.
Posted by Jessica at 12:15 PM | Permalink
Fug or Fab: This Week(Ish) In Gwyneth
Gird your loins -- with Iron Man hitting theaters this weekend, we're going to continue seeing a lot of Gwyneth Paltrow.
And I do mean a lot. Gwynnie must've gone on a Gam Rediscovery Retreat recently, because she's been skipping all around town in the kind of short skirts we're more used to seeing ride up around the pantyless pelvises of Young Hollywood as they slide out of cars.
Not that it's all a complaint. The girl's got great legs. It's just that I'm not always sure about the stuff she's using to show them off to us.
It's short, but more distracting is all the lattice work. Like, is there a nude slip under there, or is she just feeling naked and racy today? Am I bewitched by an optical illusion, or is it cutting her chest weirdly around her armpits and making her look unnaturally bulgey in places where, in reality, she almost certainly has no bulge? Doesn't that Bermuda Triangle of fabric on her groin make it look like she's wearing a black cloth diaper? And is there a weird face staring at me from her boobular region? And In concept I wanted to love this, but in life, it's like wearing a Rorschach ink blot. I feel like people were coming up to her all night and saying, "Ooh, it's death! The Angel of Death!" or "I see a Rolls Royce!" or "Is that a DOG that looks like Princess Leia?"
Maybe Gwynnie just really likes people staring at her in bewilderment, as I did yet again when I saw this dress from earlier:
[Photo: Splash News]
I don't want to know whose face that really is. It's way more fun to make random and hopelessly inaccurate guesses. For instance, I've decided it looks like an artist used a Lite Brite to draw a portrait of Sandra Bullock.
But arguably the most talked-about photo of La Paltrow has been a variation on this one, in which it appears you can see her Private Benjamins. That photo, I'm not entirely sure was devoid of Photoshop's mischievous caress, but it's undeniable that girlfriend is leaving things somewhat to chance:
[Photo: Splash News]
The thing is, I almost love this. She looks 90 feet tall, the tuxedo jacket is cute, and her hair and makeup work (now that she's lopped off those extra mangy inches of hair, doesn't she look SO much more like her mom Blythe Danner?). But the minidress itself is so... well, mini. Apart from my usual musings on how the hell she sits down in that thing without disinfecting the chair first, I feel like she could've gone a fraction lower with the hemline and still been sexy; this high, and I'm wondering if she's going to strap on ice skates later and perform an interpretive ode to the mighty speculum.
I Fug Who Killed Fug
Oh, Lindsay. Lindsay, Lindsay, Lindsay. Lindsay. Lindsay. Lindsay.
Yes, I am so glad you're not wearing Those That Shall Not Be Named. But must you replace Them with something that makes you look weirdly as though you're wearing one of Disney's Teacups? Is THIS how you're attempting to get back into The Mouse's good graces (because, dollface, I think that relationship is probably seriously unsalvageable)? You just look droopy, babe. (I'M TALKING ABOUT HER HAIR, YOU PERV. Er, mostly. A wee bit of tailoring on those straps wouldn't go amiss, but you didn't hear it from me.) Also, white shoes? For seriously? You make me sad. AGAIN.
April 28, 2008
I guess Emmanuelle Chriqui has a ton of movies coming out -- at least, according to IMDb, she does -- but to me, she will always be Eric's long-suffering girlfriend on Entourage. I guess she's not on that show anymore, although I couldn't really tell you because I think I missed some of it because I canceled HBO because nothing on it is interesting to me anymore, not even the porny one with all the disaffected couples. I mean, if I wanted to immerse myself in the world of whiny women who aren't wearing enough make-up while they argue with their partners, I'd still be dating [REDACTED]. But since she's working so much, you'd think she'd have the resources to find something other than a costume from the North Hollywood Community Theatre production of Valley Girl! The Musical:
Maybe none of her checks have cleared yet?
Posted by Jessica at 02:32 PM | Permalink