Fug or Fab The Cover: Hilary Duff

We've gotten several emails about this cover, but I have to admit that when I got it in the mail the other day, I didn't really think much of it, other than, "The orange and pink together is SO Lucky. Is that Hilary Duff? I wonder what she's been up to. Do we have any ice cream?" Now that I look at it more closely, of course, I must concur with the kind reader who pointed out that her lipstick appears to be a new shade from Revlon called Dead Like Me. As for the rest of it, well...what do you think?

polls by twiigs.com...

Fug the Film Set: Hilary Duff

Hilary Duff's latest project is apparently called Greta, and the IMDb summary claims it's the touching tale of a waitress who falls for an ambitious chef -- "but as their love blossoms, she has to overcome the concerns of her grandparents," who clearly don't understand that having a hot dude who will cook for you is, like, the Holy Grail of booty calls. Separately, my fascination with this movie just shot up several notches to "existent" once I saw that IMDb claims both Ellen Barkin and Ellen Burstyn are in the film. I've decided they're either they're playing lesbian grandparents -- one of whom is strangely young -- in a really progressive movie, or that whoever filled in the page for this movie couldn't remember which "Ellen B" was supposed to be in it and just put them both down for shits and giggles. And, well, obviously those two fine ladies would compete for roles, because they bring exactly the same qualities to the table. Like talent. And vaginas.

And frankly, we'd like to see them both fight for it. Imagine the differently layered scenes we'd get as Granny NoCharacterNameYet scolds Hilary-as-Greta for twirling around town in what appears to be a yellow bikini under a Forever 21 halter, further stuffed underneath a glorified Yuletide tutu that makes her look about four feet tall.

[Photo: infdaily.com]

We imagine Burstyn would skitter around the kitchen making cornbread while sassily lecturing her granddaughter on wearing petticoats out in public. Conversely, Barkin -- annoyed that she's playing a grandmother at all -- would simply pour herself into a tight dress, fluff up the ladies, and suck on a martini-soaked olive while purring, "Listen, Stumpy. You're not in a music video. Scrap the moldy old prom dress and start living each day like it's 'Skin To Win' season. Your legs are depending on you." And, no offense to Burstyn, we'd rather see that movie.

Unless they can convince the producers to cast Barkin as Burstyn's daughter, in which case, they should've just confused the hell out of everyone by casting Ellen Page in the Duff role, making Ellen DeGeneres her aunt, pitting them all in a battle of (t)wits against obnoxious restaurant hostess Ellen Pompeo and the evil owner, NFL tight end Kellen Winslow, Jr. The winner? Helen Hunt, because there was no room for her in this debacle.

Fugyn Manning

Whenever I look at this picture of Taryn Manning, the first thing I think is that I could resurrect my 2004 Hilary Duff Halloween costume and we could go together as Hilary Through The Ages.

And then I realized that Taryn is already kind of two Hilary eras in one. From the waist up, she's Latter-Day Duff, with the floaty yet trendy shirt, the godawful hat, and the dark hair that occasionally looks like it's been out in the rain and hastily re-dried with one of those hand-blowers in the women's room.

And on the bottom, she's 2004-05 Duff, back when she never hemmed her pants. I mean, on the whole the outfit is kind of trendy, I guess, but SERIOUSLY, honey, tailor those jeans. Do you not understand the power of a cute shoe? Even Hilary knows that.

Not that I have nothing against Hilary Duff -- she hasn't humiliated herself in the tabloids (even that Lohan feud was mostly on Lohan's part), she hasn't dated anyone who makes us want to brush our teeth since that time we saw her at a bowling alley in Studio City making out with Aaron Carter, and I can't resist Raise Your Voice if it's on (in part because that British kid is super cute, and in part because the dubbing job on some of her singing is hilariously obvious... and then also, it's fun to wonder how drunk John Corbett and Rebecca De Mornay had to get at the end of the day to bleach out memories of their participation) -- but Taryn here is looking like a Value Village version of her, and well, we already have a Discount Duff. Her name is Haylie, and she needs the job more than Taryn does. Don't you think?

poll by twiigs.com

Fugary Duff

When did Hilary Duff turn into Beyonce?

Sure, there are worse things you could turn into -- like a newt, or Britney -- but it's a tad incongruous to see the Duffster strutting around on stage like she's just risen from the ashes of the Knowles Family Goodwill pile.

Fugnity

Why Sitting on a Tall Stool In a Mini-Skirt Holding a Tee-Shirt-Wearing Dog Makes for an Awkward Photo Op by Miss Hilary Duff:

And if you enjoyed that, please pick up the sequel: How It Is Surprising Hilarious When The Poof on the Front of Your Dress Makes It Look Like Your Dog Is Wearing An Elaborate Neck-Bonnet of Some Sort.

With Fug

You know how sometimes, there's like a really awkward pause in conversation? Like when you comment that you really hate clowns and your boyfriend shirtily informs you that HIS PARENTS ARE CLOWNS! And then no one knows what to do and everyone just stares off into middle distance and feels offended and/or embarrassed and just generally at a loss? And you're just desperate for something else to talk about? Anything? Why don't you bring up the fact that Katherine McPhee and Hilary Duff seem to be turning into each other, and ask your clown-raised lover which of them ought to be more concerned about it?

Nickelodeon Kids' Choice Awards Fug Carpet: Hilary Duff

Hilary Duff has been looking so much better lately. She's gotten a little needed meat back on her bones -- her giant veneers look much better and less Wererabbit-y when she has more flesh on her chin --  and she's developed a pretty reliably chic sense of style. She's also working an edgier brown hair color, she's got an album that's juicily pertinent to her breakup with Joel Madden (so even though she can't sing, we are guaranteed to want to listen to some of it), and let's face it, even if she secretly is a big ol' cokehead cow, we have to respect her for being that privately and not rubbing our noses in it by rubbing her nose all over the toilets in Hyde.

But for every ten steps forward, there is always one skid back, and La Duff is no exception.

I'm not always huge on yellow simply because I can't wear it myself without looking like I'm diseased, but with the dark hair Hilary can pull it off, and the dress itself is sweetly retro. But the problem is, she's forgotten that she has no neck. Which is fine; many people don't. I'm not exactly a swan myself. But when you are short on neck, you need to be long on caution, and avoid dresses that choke up on it and make what little you have disappear. This one does that and more, pulling awkwardly around her shoulders and chest, giving off the effect that she has eagerly and carelessly tied a large napkin around her neck in anticipation of the messiest lobster dinner in history.

Maybe she's just still depressed about breaking up with Joel Madden. Perhaps she needs a rebound guy -- someone better. That Shia Le Boeuf kid seems popular. The dude who was in Mean Girls is dreamy. What's Josh Hartnett up to these days? Or better, Jake Gyllenhaal? They're in different fame and talent leagues, but maybe it'd be a cross-caste romance the likes of which we haven't seen since Romeo and Juliet defied their warring families. Of course, SPOILER, those wacky kids died in the end, so we'll need to avoid too many story similarities. Still, give it some thought, Hil, if you need a nice diversion. Just ignore any advice from the Olsen twins or else you'll be dating a shady 38-year old "club promoter" and nobody wants that.

With Fug

Now that Hilary Duff's new teeth are fixed -- or she grew into them, or whatever -- I actually think she's been looking really hot, especially with her darker hair.  Which is why this scrolldown is so very tragic:

It's like, casual, casual, casual,  an extra in the Love is a Battlefield video, the floor. And while Hilary is certainly quite cute, Pat Benatar she is not.

Fug the Cover: Hilary Duff

Lush Magazine is actually pretty cool. And yet, they've decided that the best way to style Hilary Duff is to make it look like she's sticking her head into one of those cardboard figurines you find on the boardwalk that make you look like you're a bodybuilder or a bearded lady or whatever:

Seriously. That hair is not now, nor has it ever been, attached to her head, or the head of another human being.

Also, she should get someone to take a look at that thing growing out of her neck.

Fugterial Girls

Hilary Duff has done a nice job remaking herself recently into a more stylish, sleek version of the child star who favored 80 necklaces at once and rarely displayed any evidence of having a neck.

Having given her that credit, though, please allow us to pick a nit.

If she would just please learn to stand up straight and quit the coy shoulder-hunch, perhaps the thought floating through my head right now would be, "She looks lovely in that gown," rather than, "She looks so uncomfortable in that heavy bedspread."

Fuglier By The Dozen

Sigh. And Hilary Duff had been doing so well lately, too:

Although her shoes are making me twitch a little, Haylie looks quite nice.

Hilary, however, looks like she just finished a marathon of the 90210 episodes in which Brenda and Donna spend the summer in Paris, and while David is back home warbling "You Are So Precious To Me" at some new girl in high-rise ankle-baring pants, Donna learns to smoke and briefly takes up modeling with a lascivious French manager. And with Dylan and Kelly back home cuddling on the beach to Sophie B. Hawkins tunes and Brandon busying himself by dating a bigot, Brenda runs around judging Donna and then faking a bad French accent, because she met Reeeeeeek (Dean Cain) and wants him to think she is an exotic Parisienne depsite the fact that they are IN FRANCE and NONE of the other French people speaking English sound like Brenda does.

And while I completely advocate spending time with that slate of episodes ("Not all black people have rhythm, and not all Jewish people have money," Brandon haughtily sniffs at Brooke The Bigot, after she has implied that Andrea Zuckerman sounds like she ought to be loaded; "You remind me of George Michael," New Girl purrs at a squeaky, convulsive and inordinately baggy David Silver, who oozes hapless virginity), I do not advocate crafting a personal style from them.

I mean... a spandex off-the-shoulder minidress? A newsboy? Leggings that tuck into her shoes, yearning to live the dream of being stirrup pants? I think not, Hil. As beautiful as it was, 90210 is a moment in time. Let it be.

And, to Aaron Spelling, who reportedly had a stroke last weekend: We hope our dream of an all-Spelling, all-the-time network is soon fulfilled, because sir, you have made some genius television.  (We'll ignore 7th Heaven, Aaron -- we know you didn't mean to inflict that nightmare on us, or for so long.) You have a lot to be proud of, especially if it's true that you disapprove of Tori's new tattoo mannequin, and we hope flights of angels that look like Joan Collins sing you back to good health.

Oscar Post-Party Fug: Haylie Duff

It's not a good sign that the first thing that popped into my head when I saw this picture -- well, after I wondered why Haylie Duff decided to go matriarch-chic here and break into Kathy Hilton's wardrobe -- was, "You know, I really do want to see Transamerica."

We Got the Fug

Overhead at Element:

Random starlet/pop-singer/hanger-on: "I can't believe these bitches actually made me come out in public wearing a mini-dress made from children's sheets. I'm going to scratch Haylie's eyes out later. Right out of her head!"

Haylie Duff: "I can't believe Hilary's letting me come out in public with her again! I'm so happy! I feel so important! I feel so loved! I feel so pretty! I feel! I am a human being, and I FEEL! If Hilary hadn't told me that she would punch me in the mouth if I so much as opened my mouth, I would BURST INTO SONG!"

Hilary Duff: "I can't believe that bitch at Fred Segal talked me into buying these pants. I KNEW tapered legs were going too far. I KNEW IT. And they're so SHINY. TAPERED AND SHINY. I'm wearing tapered and shiny pants in public.  It's not 1987! What was I thinking? God, my new teeth are KILLING ME. Are they supposed to hurt like this? This is the worst night ever. I can't even look at Haylie. I want to go home."

Teen Choice Fug: Hilary Duff

Hilary Duff, in one swoop, is becoming the unwitting master of the scrolldown fug. During her hosting gig at the Teen Choice awards, she seemed to have significant trouble finishing what she started -- by which I mean, her dresses all look like relatively normal, fluffy, girly confections, until you scan her whole body and realize the outfits have whipped themselves into a fugly frenzy somewhere in the vicinity of her thighs.

Exhibit A: The red carpet dress. Perfectly cute bodice, and the color works on her...

[Photo by Daily Celeb.]

And then... bloomers. Or the effect of them, anyway; in an offbeat twist, I think it's actually just that her skirt is elasticized so that it bunches and billows around her bum. That ruffle is just irresponsible. I'm not sure which is actually worse -- real bloomers, or the yen to recreate the effect of bloomers by turning a dress into a drawstring sack. Is she stashing something up there? Is that where her she keeps her whitening trays? Did something bite her in the behind, causing it to swell to such insane proportions that only a pear-shaped outfit could cover it?

The whole thing is alarmingly, "Hilary Duff stars as Little Orphan Annie in the hotly anticipated sequel, Annie Warbucks: Betting Her Bottom Dollar, about the puckish sprite's adulthood as a surprise temptress."

Exhibit B: During the show.

I am not in love with the polka dots. Nor am I terribly enamored of Rob Schneider and his cuffed jeans-aloha shirt combo, but that's neither here nor there. No, my main beef is with the shredded and torn bottom of La Duff's frock, once again an outfit that started off just fine -- if a bit precious -- and tragically devolved into The Dog Ate My Wet Seal  Dress.

She has the footwear down pat. Now if she could just attend to her mid-thigh region, we might be off and running toward an unfugging.

Might.

For the Love of Fug

For the LAST TIME, Hilary, YOU HAVE NO NECK. Ergo, YOU CANNOT TURN IT INTO AN ACCESSORIES RACK. Perhaps a delicate scarf or wrap, but not every single damn one in your massive closet. It looks like your wardrobe is trying to throttle you -- or as if you are a storeroom mannequin at Claire's, on which the employees draped a bunch of leftover stuff they couldn't put out in the actual shop.

SAVE YOURSELF.

Fuglie Duff

Duffman on The Simpsons had better guard his nickname -- he's getting some serious competition for it from Haylie, a.k.a. The Unfortunate And Unfortunately Mannish Duff Sister. She just reeks of "off-duty drag queen" to me. And also probably of Britney Spears' "Curious."

I really wish she'd start wearing colors that didn't all distract the eye in a million directions. Just check the fugculus (fug + calculus) of her ensemble: White sweater + champagne shirt + orange/red necklace + green shoes + black bag = Color scheme of a child's finger-painting accident.

My Fugly Ending

Remember that Sweet Valley High book where Elizabeth gets in the motorcycle accident and ends up in a coma and when she comes out of it, she thinks she's Jessica and so she acts all slutty and difficult and almost sleeps with Bruce Pattman -- even going so far as to let him touch her boob! -- until, right before she gives it up to Bruce, she drunkenly rolls over and conks her head on the coffee table, and that knocks the Elizabeth back into her?

I think that's what's happened to Hilary Duff:

Except, for "Jessica," read "Avril Lavigne." And, as clearly demonstrated by the photo above, Hilary/Elizabeth has not yet slammed her head against any furniture. So, by my calculations, this means that Hilary is about 15 minutes away from letting that kid from Good Charlotte grab her left breast.

Paparazzi, remain vigilant!

VMA Fug Carpet: The Duffs

Hilary's recipe for dressing up as if she belongs at a rock event:

1. When in doubt, wear black, especially smeared under your eyes.

2. The more suspiciously superfluous straps, the better, especially if at least one is falling down off your shoulder.

3. Gold chains make anything look hard-core -- when you think you've got on exactly the right number, add two more.

4. Do not be afraid to mix metals, such as heavy gold accessories with heavy silver trim on your shoes. It gives the appearance of not having tried.

5. If you have stumpy gams, share them! Mere hours before the ceremony, take scissors -- the world's greatest fashion tool! -- and hack off the bottom of your designer trousers to create a kicky shorts-based ensemble.

6. Slouch! And then, slouch more.

7. Bring a tranny with you so that everyone will be buzzing about whether it's a pre-op or a post-op, instead of talking about your lame outfit.

Our Fugs Are Sealed

It appears that the overwhelming desire to fun oneself up is genetic. Take the Duff sisters [please, as the old joke goes]:

I am rather unsure of where to begin here -- there's the unfortunate headgear, the 2001-style hair extensions, the hot pink microphone -- but let's kick this off by stating the obvious: the Duffs are prime examples of individuals who don' seem to know how to dress around their figure flaws.

Hilary is guilty of this on a regular basis [Hilary, sweetpea? You don't have a waist or a neck. Stop pretending you do and start investing in v-neck tops.] For example, in this instance? Hilary, prepare yourself, because I'm not going to mince words: those are some hefty upper arms. Made heftier-looking by virtue of the fact that Hilary seems to have decided that it would be flattering if everything she wore was sort of vaguely skin-colored and a wee bit too small, the better to make her look like a walking sausage-casing [topped, of course, by the Pucci newsboy cap that she fished out of Sarah Jessica Parker's garbage bin back in 2002.] What you can't tell from this photo, by the way, is that Hilary's already unflattering pants are actually mid-calf-length capris. Which she's wearing with Converse, the better to showcase her cankles, I presume.

Hilary, Hilary, Hilary. Listen, I'm going to let you in on a secret. I'm a short girl, too, and while I've been lucky enough to escape the heartbreak of cankles, I can veer into Stumpytown if I'm not careful. Don't wear mid-calf-length capris with flats if you want your legs to look anything other than chopped off and tubby. Heels. Heels are your best friends. Wear them around the house. Wear them as slippers. Wear them in the shower. Wear them. And if you insist on flats, wear pants that skim the ankle, not the tubbiest part of your short little legs. Being young doesn't automatically insure that you look good in everything. And you could investigate wearing sleeves. Or lifting a weight now and then. Your call. Also, stand up straight. And that hair is only emphasizing the fact that, as formerly mentioned, you have no neck. You should maybe look into that.

And speaking of looking like fug despite the advantage of extreme youth, let's tackle Haylie, who, I must admit, doesn't really have the advantage of extreme youth as she appears to be approximately 36 years old. So, that shirt she's wearing? It's a knit tank top with sequins across the front. The better to emphasize what looks like a little beer belly. [And bless the beer belly. I fight it every day, and sometimes I lose. That's why I don't wear super tight knit tops on television.] Also, I'd like to congratulate her for wearing [mismatched, no less] pants with the pockets and zippers placed exactly where Ms Haylie appears to carry most of her weight: the hips and ass. Well played! Well-played indeed!

Look, I'm pleased that neither Duff is a lollypop. Go Fug Yourself doesn't recommend anorexia as a style choice, especially when the celebrity in question appeals primarily to teens. Teens: sandwiches are good! Keep eating them! However, when a girl has some body fat -- and most of us do -- she needs to work with it, not against it. [Look at Sara Rue, of ABC's Less Than Perfect. She's nowhere near a size 2, and she always looks adorable. Because she apparently owns a mirror.] Just because you can button it doesn't mean you should put it on.

And both of you, stand-up straight, for the love of God.

So Fug Today

HEM YOUR PANTS, child. And wipe off the whore lipstick. You're only sixteen -- you have two years before you can become a public skank.

But mostly, get a tailor. Short people need clothes that don't swallow their feet.

Two Duffs Are Fuglier Than One

Dear Duffs: Please stop trying to foist upon us your other and less attractive spawn, Haylie (left). It's bad enough that we have to deal with Lizze McGuire mistakenly believing she's the cutest of the tween queens, and being deluded into thinking she has actual musical talent. Her singing voice sounds as if she is speaking the words through a kazoo; if the rumor about Haylie secretly doing some of the vocals on Hilary's album is true, then both their mouths should be duct-taped in perpetuity.

If you insist on trying to make the public remember that Haylie even exists -- without forcing her to go brunette, like Asslee Simpson and Nicky Hilton and all the other forgotten blonde siblings -- then please warn her to cease and desist trying to reinvent old bridesmaid's dresses by adding pants to the mix. That outfit is a nightmare.

In related news: Chad Michael Murray has reimagined himself as a fugly hybrid of Ryan Phillippe and David Beckham.

Oy. Close your mouth, Hilary.