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June 21, 2006

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.

Posted by Heather at 11:33 AM in Hilary & Haylie Duff | Permalink

March 08, 2006

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."

Posted by Heather at 04:04 PM in Hilary & Haylie Duff, Oscars | Permalink

September 26, 2005

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."

Posted by Jessica at 10:49 AM in Hilary & Haylie Duff | Permalink

August 16, 2005

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.

Posted by Heather at 01:33 PM in Hilary & Haylie Duff, Misc. Awards Shows | Permalink

December 01, 2004

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.

Posted by Heather at 10:38 AM in Hilary & Haylie Duff | Permalink | Comments (6)

November 01, 2004

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.

Posted by Heather at 09:51 AM in Hilary & Haylie Duff | Permalink | Comments (5)

October 28, 2004

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!

Posted by Jessica at 01:32 AM in Hilary & Haylie Duff | Permalink | Comments (11)

August 30, 2004

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.

Posted by Heather at 10:24 AM in Hilary & Haylie Duff, VMAs | Permalink | Comments (6)

August 10, 2004

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.

Posted by Jessica at 01:15 PM in Hilary & Haylie Duff | Permalink | Comments (5)

August 02, 2004

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.

Posted by Heather at 03:28 PM in Hilary & Haylie Duff | Permalink | Comments (3)

 

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