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August 17, 2007

Celebrity Terror Watch: Sarah Jane Morris

Poor Sarah Jane Morris.

She probably had no idea when she donned this otherwise innocuous, sweet summer dress that -- during her big photo opportunity, no less -- it would rise up and try to throttle her on the spot. No motive has been identified for the attempted assassination of a completely harmless person who was probably just trying to get inside for some free crudités, a glass of champagne, and a swag bag. But we can only assume that after years of celebrities committing fashion crimes, the fashion itself has developed a vicious streak.

So, be careful. Be vigilant. And maybe stay away from things with strange flaps, or scarf-bodices, or built-in dishtowels -- or whatever that thing is -- that could randomly nooseify themselves. Save your necks.

Posted by Heather at 03:03 PM in Celebrity Terror Watch | Permalink

June 29, 2007

Celebrity Terror Watch: Eric Balfour

Add Eric Balfour to the Big Bad List of Celebrities Who Look Like They're About to SNAP and Murder You:

He looks way crankier at the Pink Taco opening than any man ought to look at the opening of a pink taco. ZING! AND SOMETIMES THEY WRITE THEMSELVES.

Ahem. Sorry. The coffee was overly strong this morning. I mean, really -- a Pink Taco/pink taco crack? What I am, like, a twelve year old boy, who just discovered TastelessEuphamisms.com? I'm so ashamed. Please, look away.

Posted by Jessica at 12:03 PM in Celebrity Terror Watch | Permalink

June 20, 2007

Celebrity Terror Watch: Shane West

Joining Ginnifer Goodwin on The Big List of Celebrities Who Look Like They're Thinking About Choking You Out, I present the usually dreamy Shane West:

Seriously, I'm kind of nervous just looking at him. I only have, like, thirty bucks in my wallet, Shane, but you can totally have it if you just go away.  I mean, I don't know -- maybe he's campaigning for the lead in a made-for-TV-movie about Peter Braunstein. But while that's totally the sort of movie I would get sucked into watching (I love poorly made movies about terrible crimes. I once spent four hours watching a mini-series about the Menendez brothers on Lifetime), I do not think it's really a look anyone should be sporting, you know, off the set. TERROR LEVEL: HIGH

Appendix: POTENTIAL SERIAL KILLER TERROR LEVEL CHART: ON-LOOKER ADVISORY VERSION.

SEVERE:

Get to a safe place and call 911. Celebrities CAN crack. Look at Phil Spector.

HIGH:

Leave the room now. You don't want to be deposed when they lose it in the near future. AND THEY WILL.

ELEVATED:

Be guarded and don't take any drinks from this person. Do you want to be played by Tori Spelling in the made-for-TV movie of this incident? We didn't think so.

GUARDED:

Sure, be alert, but don't freak out. Maybe they just went though a bad break-up, or need to wash their hair?

Low:

Go about your business.

Posted by Jessica at 02:11 PM in Celebrity Terror Watch | Permalink

June 19, 2007

Celebrity Terror Watch: Fergie

In theory, we're all for celebrities acting like normal people and wearing something more than once. In practice, though, there are things like high-waisted overalls, which fall distinctly into the "Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me" category of fashion.

Such was the affliction I thought had grabbed Fergie in its toxic clutches.

And then, with a heavy heart, I realized this is not the same pair of camel-toe-causing high-waisted overalls. Which means... it's hard to put this in print, because that means it's real... there are TWO types of vagina-crunching, waist-pinching, armpit-encroaching denim overalls in the world. Judging by Fergie's face, this one is particularly likely to have been dumped on an unsuspecting public by the same people who bring you Monistat. [Miss Fergie Ferg must be seriously reconsidering the creative decision to peddle her latest single dressed as a farmhand.]

Unless her apparently misery has to do with how tightly the belt is cinched, at which point the suspenders become merely decorative. Yes, that's right: They're IMITATION lady-cave-spelunking high-waisted overalls. I'm not sure which is the more insidious creation; all I do know is, it just got a little bit less safe for us out there. 

Posted by Heather at 10:14 AM in Celebrity Terror Watch, Fergie (the Pea, not the duchess) | Permalink

June 12, 2007

Celebrity Terror Watch DOWNGRADE: Jon Favreau

It is our great pleasure here at GFY HQ to announce a Celebrity Terror Watch downgrade, in which a formerly afflicted celeb shows up at an event not looking cracked out, tanned up, bloated, greasy, frighteningly thinner than usual, or compromised in any way that the CDC would need to hear about. Instead, we are extremely  gratified to present to you Jon Favreau, as witnessed over the weekend:

That's a nice suit, Jon.

Allow me to refresh your memory as to how he looked last time we checked in:

Not that he doesn't pull off the Disgruntled Lumberjack look, but it's nice to see him back in be-suited Vegas Baby Vegas mode, no?

Posted by Jessica at 12:31 PM in Celebrity Terror Watch | Permalink

January 22, 2007

Celebrity Terror Watch: Tyra Banks

We here at GFY HQ would like to issue a Tanorexia orange alert, pun fully intended, because of word of an epidemic sweeping the America's Next Top Model gang: It would appear that Jay Manuel's rampant affinity for turning himself orange is terribly, toxically catching.

To wit: Here is Tyra Banks in her Emmy dress (and exposed wig tape) late last year.

And here she is as photographed at the PGA awards -- which is thrown by the Producer's Guild of America, and not, in fact, a ceremony devoted to the very best in golf, at which her presence would be a tad more confusing. At any rate, have a gander.

That is one tall orange woman. We have never in our lives seen Tyra Banks that unnaturally orange -- and, thanks to her campaign for global domination, we've seen a lot of her. Was she so engrossed in lying on the beach eating ribs that she forgot to turn over? Did she shoot an episode of her show entitled, "Confronting Your Fear Of The Surface Of The Sun?" Did she too hastily try cracking open a can of whoop-ass on a poor unsuspecting Tyra Banks Show guest, only to find out too late that she grabbed a can of self-tanner instead? And most vitally of all, WHY did she agree to leave the house looking so ... fluorescent? Nobody in the world needs to be neon orange.

Perhaps this is all for her talk show's Undercover series, in which she pulled the wool over all our disbelieving eyes by masquerading as an overweight woman, a stripper, and a male member of the entourage of a somewhat mortified Chingy. We can't imagine what she's pretending to be -- mama oompa loompa seems too obvious; a cautionary tale about the dangers of eating a surplus of carrots, too self-sacrificing -- but we hope her radioactive hue dies down soon.

Appendix: TANOREXIA WATCH TERROR CHART

SEVERE:

Jayden James Spears-Federline -- as in, find his inescapable prison, the one formerly enjoyed by Suri Cruise,and lock yourself in it until your flesh tone returns.

HIGH:

The Simpson sisters

ELEVATED:

Jennifer Aniston

GUARDED:

Hollywood Starlet whose agent gave her four gift-certificates to Mystic Tan

LOW:

Sane, sensible person

Posted by Heather at 08:37 AM in Celebrity Terror Watch | Permalink

January 17, 2007

Celebrity Terror Watch Golden "Globes" Police: Katharine McPhee

Undeniably, Katharine McPhee is a stunner. And now that she's working some leg muscle, she's done a good job picking edgy minidresses with plunging necklines that show off her new figure. Take this one, for example, from the American Music Awards earlier this year:

It's a tough dress to carry, but she's glowing in it. She looks happy and sexy and young, and I would really like to know what witch doctor she's going to for that thick, shiny hair, because I am totally up for turning over my tresses to the dark arts. Even if it means mixing the hair of a spider, the toe of a chicken, and Essence of Newt in my Le Creuset and sticking my head in it.

At a Golden Globes afterparty, though, Katharine decided to change up her look. Which I can understand -- there's only so many short skirts and deep vees you can wear in a row before people start to wonder if you're just dying the same one a different color -- except that I don't like the direction in which she went: upwards.

Her hair is still gleaming nicely -- that newt juice is a miracle -- but the dress, aside from being a frumpy length, is totally pulling a ScarJo on her breasts. They're hiked up higher than Paris Hilton's skirt on most Tuesdays. And Wednesdays. And Thursdays, and... look, essentially, they're WAY up there, in a really painful-looking way. Moreover, she doesn't need to be this obvious. She's got innate sexyness that was shining through much better without this desperate shove skyward. Don't get me wrong, I'm all for propping up the girls and working your assets -- seriously, if Salma Hayek gave a class, I'd go twice -- but this isn't flattering as much as it's making me afraid they're going to burst. And having cleavage that is literally explosive can really put a damper on a girl's evening.

Posted by Heather at 11:45 AM in Celebrity Terror Watch, Golden Globes | Permalink

January 08, 2007

Celebrity Facial-Hair Watch: Ryan Gosling

Please let this be for a role. Please let this be for a role.

Please.

Fortunately, Ryan Gosling's IMDb page claims he's currently filming a movie called Lars and the Real Girl, the one-line summary of which appears as follows: "A delusional young guy strikes up an unconventional relationship with a doll he finds on the Internet." At the risk of offending anyone with upper-lip hair -- it's not personal; it's situational, a face-by-face case -- that synopsis would seem the appropriate context for a mustache so cruelly rendered across an otherwise intriguing face. And yes, I saw The Notebook; as such, I don't mind him with the scruff, or even the full beard, but there's something ominous about this manner of follicular lipicide. The mustache has taken something from us. It has trapped him in that cruel purgatory between clean-shaven dreamyness and the totally rugged, ragged I Wore Overalls With No Shirt On Underneath In The Blazing Sun While I Built The House Of My Dreams To My Lost Love's Specifications, Because I'm A Hopeless Romantic Who Fought In The War And Loves Even Harder Than I Grow Facial Hair thing. It's launching a horrific bid to turn half of Canada's golden couple (Ryan Gosling + Rachel McAdams = The Squeeeeeeee! Heard Around The World, Or At Least Around Toronto And Vancouver) into a vacuum-cleaner salesman who was fired from his teaching job because of a seedy predilection for dirty massage parlors and, probably, Circus Peanuts, because nobody with innocent intentions would ever eat those.

So, I repeat: Please let the 'stache be for Lars And The I Will Never See That Movie Because Dolls Are Creepy, because if it is, it's (hopefully) going away soon, or about to be joined by the rest of the scruff. Fingers crossed.

Posted by Heather at 08:47 AM in Celebrity Terror Watch | Permalink

December 14, 2006

Celebrity Mild-Alarm Watch: Teri Hatcher

Okay, somebody needs to give Teri Hatcher a sit-down, because more and more lately she is looking all wrong.

And I'm not talking clothes; I'm referring to... her face.

When she's smiling, and/or caught from afar, she seems mostly normal, but still with a whiff of something off. Almost as if she's smiling while trying not to breathe through her nose, or perhaps just trying to put on a brave face despite her dark, secret fear that her face is about to crack into a million pieces from all this muscle motion.

Still, on the whole, it's not bad. She seems happy, if a little timid, but overall her Fug Factor is on the low side -- by her standards, at least; there is no horrible goth getup, no mismatched animal prints. Indeed, I wouldn't have thought anything was amiss had I not checked out a close-up. That is when I started to get worried.

This photo could be captioned, "The subject stares into a bright light after a few glasses of champagne -- not having slept in 24 hours, which impaired her judgment during self-administered Botox injections -- and tries desperately not to sneeze."

I mean... am I crazy, or is the right side of her face tighter than the left by the eyes, and droopier down by the mouth? Like it's being yanked in two directions? 

This isn't a rare shot, either; in all of the straight-faced photos from this event, Teri appears either lopsided or slightly drunk. Part of me suspects that her face doesn't take well to eye makeup, and that she desperately needs to find somebody who can do her up without making her appear overtired, cranky, and/or evil.

Mostly, though, I call shenanigans. There does appear to be tomfoolery at work. Maybe her right eye is in the middle of an allergy attack. Or, maybe Eva Longoria accidentally tragically whacked her in the face with a purse because she happened to be running straight at her and swinging a bag to and fro. Or it's possible Teri slept on it oddly. Really, really oddly. However, I suppose it's also possible she ran late on the set and only had time to get needle-stabby with half of her face, leaving the poor thing utterly unaware of what to do with itself when in repose. 

Whatever it is, though, we're not putting her on a full-blown Botoxorexia Terror Watch -- not yet. We're feeling all warmed from within by mulled wine, and toasty-cozy in the gay apparel we're donning in anticipation of decking the halls, so she is getting off with a mild alert today.

A few more sets of closeups like this, though, and we might have to rethink our stance.

Posted by Heather at 09:34 AM in Celebrity Terror Watch | Permalink

December 13, 2006

Celebrity Terror Watch: Think Of The Children

I'm sorry, Dakota. Really, I am. This isn't about you. Whenever I see you interviewed, you seem very well-adjusted and mature, and properly parented. And I'm pleased about that, because it greatly diminishes the odds of you drooling booze onto a Hollywood sidewalk six years from now while Paris Hilton celebrates being kicked off Dancing With The Stars for trying to have sex with her partner during the tango.

So, don't take this personally. Like I said, it's not you. It's the world. It's The Scourge.

It's found you.

Are you HAPPY NOW, Leggings? Are you PLEASED with yourselves? LOOK WHAT YOU HAVE DONE. You have INFECTED THE CHILDREN. Even Wilbur is like, "Dude, I don't want any part of that."

Does it make you feel all WARM INSIDE to have SCRAMBLED THE JUDGMENT OF OUR NATION'S YOUTH? To have claimed the innocence of America's Underage Sweetheart? Oh, you are a dangerous, caddish stretchy-cotton plague. Curses! A POX ON YOU.

It bears repeating: Constant vigilence is required here. If your guard comes down for even a second, you could find yourselves in a tunic and leggings faster than you can reach for an old photo album to ward off the demons.

Be strong, Dakota. Wrest yourself from their spandex talons. We're here for you.

Posted by Heather at 12:11 PM in Celebrity Terror Watch | Permalink

 

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