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January 13, 2006

Globes Fever: Classic Fug

Aw. She looks so happy. I don't have the heart to tell her that, although the punch IS spiked, the Golden Globes aren't the same thing as prom night at the honky-tonk bar.

Posted by Heather at 04:27 PM in Classic Fug, Golden Globes | Permalink

January 12, 2006

Globe Fever: Classic Fug

The day Sharon Stone stops thinking she's every man's dominatrix fantasy is the day Courtney Peldon wins a Golden Globe. Look at this woman -- she's a nutjob, and proud of it. Are those her nipples I can see through that shiny armor? Are those hot pants she's wearing under those strips of filmy fabric?

You know what? It doesn't matter. They are what she says they are, because she makes the rules, you weak little maggot, so get down on your knees and beg mommy for a cookie before she rips out a hunk of your hair and spanks you with a slice of Honeybaked Ham.

Posted by Heather at 03:46 PM in Classic Fug, Golden Globes, Sharon Stone | Permalink

January 10, 2006

Globe Fever: Classic Fug

It's true that including Bjork on a Web site devoted to fugly fashion is a bit like including Michael Jackson in a game of Death Is Not An Option -- which is to say, unfair, because in the case of the latter, MJ will always lose, because nobody on Earth would actually want to sleep with him [and indeed if posed with something like, "Michael Jackson or John Madden?" would find a way, any way, to make death a very viable option].

My point is, when it comes to all things fugly, Bjork is an island -- The Island of Misfit Clothes. But it's such a fun island sometimes (I hear the hallucinogens are top-notch) that it's impossible to avoid visiting it completely.

This ensemble is from the 2001 Golden Globes. The red and pink shoes are a little frightening, and that bejewelled owl purse might give me nightmares, and the shawl looks more like somebody in the retouching department made a small error with the square brush tool. But what really puts this ensemble in the Bjork Hall of Fug is the glittering homage to Michael Jackson on her skirt. That little detail, that mysterious shrine to a plastic man (assuming that's who it is -- looks like Thriller-era MJ), pushes her beyond the woman on the left who is dressed in aluminum foil. What sort of statement is she making, exactly? What motivates a woman to decide that a wearable portrait of a half-man, half-alien pop star is the perfect complement to an award nomination? Does she find her outfit thrilling? Does she think awards shows are bad, bad, really really bad? Is it some sort of homing beacon for the mothership to pick up Bjork when the ceremony is over?

Whatever it is, one thing is certain: It's time for her to act again. We need her back on the nation's red carpets.

Posted by Heather at 05:35 PM in Classic Fug, Golden Globes | Permalink

February 11, 2005

Grammy Fever: Classic Fug

Flashback courtesy of The Sarah Jessica Diaries: 2004:

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"Yeeeeeah, I'm sorry. I'm realizing right now that the sandbox-chic shorts and the sleeves just sort of make me look delusional, like I think I'm a kid again. But... I am really whimsical! Younger than my years! And Matthew told me I looked tomboyish in this, which means I'm super hot, because for some reason, he gets really turned on when I downplay my feminine side. It's just how he is. We're simple! Playful! Why, just the other day, I came home and he and some extra from The Producers were wrestling on the floor! We love being playful!

"And besides, I was Annie when I was a kid -- this is just adult moppet-wear, kind of like the blue knickers-based outfit Aileen Quinn wore in the movie version when she accidentally kicked Albert Finney in the knee and then told him to screw off with his adoption and his Tiffany locket because she wanted her real parents. So really, if you think about it, I look awesome and awesomely youthful in these evening shorts. And when I get home and put my hair into a ponytail, I know Matthew's going to get so hot that he insists we play a rousing (arousing?) game of Robespierre/Young French Revolutionary. I've tried to tell him that most revolutionaries were guys, but... I don't know, I think he's just progressive with his fantasies, you know?"

Posted by Heather at 10:36 AM in Classic Fug, Grammys | Permalink

February 09, 2005

Grammy Fever: Classic Fug

A while back, Jennifer Love Hewitt spent a lot of time trying to convince people she was a rock star. We weren't fooled, nor were we interested. It didn't work.

Indeed, in the days thereafter and continuing through the present, the only press thrown J.Lo.Hew's way came/comes when she says something self-deprecating about her boob size. Which she started doing a lot.

You can whiff a bit of that desperation in her Grammy ensemble from 2004:

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Her chest is very half-heartedly propped up by the peekaboo top, her thigh is presented to us like a Thanksgiving Day drumstick, and the whole thing looks a little bit like it was originally designed as a hybrid bikini/lounging dress for Kelly Taylor on Beverly Hills, 90210: The Beach Seasons. Indeed, if the Peach Pit After Dark ever opened a beach outpost, this is how the cocktail waitresses would dress.

Which is a shame for Ms. Lo.Hew, because as the number of stalled careers she's had begins to mount, it's probably best not to remind the world how well she'd do at the Grammys in 2005... as an after-party drinks server.

Posted by Heather at 05:24 PM in Classic Fug, Grammys | Permalink

August 26, 2004

Back to the Fug: Famous Fugs in History

Ah, August. When celebrity events are few and far between and Hollywood's fugliest have retreated to their barracks to rejuvenate with refreshing chemical peels and microdermabrasion, and the chroniclers of Fug find themselves Fug-free, and at loose ends.

Friends, it is then that we look to the past. Shakespeare -- a man who really knew how to wear a pair of pantaloons -- said, "What is past is prologue," and, as usual, he was right. What goes around once usually comes around again, and, man, have we seen some fug in our time. And what better way to fight the fug than to acknowledge its place in our shared history?

And thus we begin with one of the defining moments in the history of fug, Demi Moore's Fug Heard 'Round the World:

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Cue Bruce Willis's inner monologue:

"Dear God, what is Demi wearing? Did she forget the front of her dress? Or is it... a train? Or... something? I'm so confused. Should I say something to her? But what would I say? 'Honey, you didn't attach the front part of your dress'? But maybe she's wearing this on purpose. But how is that even possible? Everyone can see her whatcamacallits -- her control top body slimmer short thingies. But how could she have forgotten something as basic as her skirt? All the rest of her is totally done up. The short thingies totally don't match the rest of her get-up. It's got to be a mistake. Should I have said something before we left the house? I should have. She's going to kill me for this. But no, it must be on purpose. She would feel the draft otherwise. But how could this be on purpose? She's wearing bicycle shorts. I don't understand. I'm just going to stand here in my tuxedo and look uncomfortable. Man, I don't know if I can take this anymore. Maybe we should get a divorce."

Posted by Jessica at 12:00 PM in Classic Fug | Permalink | Comments (0)


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