Met Ball Fug Carpet: The Olsens

ASHLEY: People will get this, right? That I'm going as a superhero's VICTIM? With the ripped clothes?

CHRISTIAN LOUBOUTIN: POW!

MARY-KATE: You know who'd have loved this? Frankie Sinatra. Oh, he was a card.

ASHLEY: What?

LOUBOUTIN: ZAP!

M-K: It all reminds me of the time I did Carson with a lit cigarette in my hair. How McMahon did laugh! He was all hands, that Eddie. And what a tongue!

ASHLEY: I don't understand.

LOUBOUTIN: KER-BLAM!

M-K: Somebody get me a scotch, neat, and make it a double. God, that reminds me of that night with Carol Channing and the Hardy Boys. I've got stories about that hussy that would make your toes curl.

ASHLEY: How is it that we're related? Sometimes I think this whole thing is a bizarre accident.

LOUBOUTIN: WHAMMO!

M-K: It's like Bette Davis used to say: "If you can't take off your clothes, then it's not worth having dinner." Or was that Paris Hilton?

ASHLEY: The worst part is, people might think you're ME. Clearly I have to dye my hair again.

M-K: You want to talk about buying new drapes? Let me tell you about the day Phyllis Diller came over for canasta and absinthe -- we'd both been having these WICKED hot flashes, see, and...

LOUBOUTIN: SPLAT!

ASHLEY: Time to go.

While We Were Gallivanting: Mary-Fug Fugsen

In our absence last week, an immense number of e-mails arrived in our Inbox claiming that Mary-Kate Olsen threw caution to the wind and wore something totally deranged.

I can't figure out what those people meant. Caftans and velvet inner-tubes are all the rage in my house.

New Fug Minute

Somewhere amid the blurry flurry of Fug Madness voting, Mary-Kate Olsen snuck past me in a satin shorts-suit and a purse longer than femur.

It's as if she's getting ready to go on safari in Sharon Stone's closet. Which... yeah, I'm going to need to go with her.

Fuugs

Oh, MK. When first I saw this, I thought, "Oh, MK. Why are you wearing a high-fashion version of the beach over-up my Great Aunt Doris bought in San Juan in 1986?"

I mean, no offense to my Great Aunt Doris -- she was awesome, and used to buy me acid-washed Guess jean jackets and other items deeply coveted by junior high school students without regard to what my mother would allow -- but she was a sun-worshiping, chain-smoking septuagenarian. And MK is...well, 21.

And then I realized that this is not merely the high-fashion version of my Great Aunt Doris's 80s Puerto Rican Vacation Cover-Up, but it is also A ROMPER. Did you hear me? I said it was A ROMPER! This moves her from the realm of Something Your Elderly But Still Sassy Relative Would Wear on a Tropical Jaunt and into What The Stay Puft Marshmallow Man Wears On Summer Vacation.

You know, if he were taking strip class there. That's quite a pair of shoes.

Fab or Fug: Mary-Kate Olsen

Oh my god, M-K. Take a seat, so we can chat. You know I kind of love you now -- I loved your Harper's Bazaar cover, I love that you're not a lazy dilettante, and everyone loves a twin, right? -- but you concern me sometimes. No, no -- I'm not worried about your weight or your love life (I have my own weight and love life to think about, after all). I'm worried about your lip stick, gloss, stain or colorant of your choosing:

Namely, where is it?  I'm not wild about the shroud you're running around in either -- it's inching toward the city limits of Blandsville-- but you do love a nice long frock and it does seem very Calvin Klein-y minimal-y and who doesn't love the whimsical use of an elephant belt, am I right? If only the rest of you didn't look so bedraggled, like your car broke down and you had to walk thirty blocks to the event in really painful shoes, and now you FINALLY made it and you're EXHAUSTED and SWEATY and you chewed off all your lip gloss trying to hail a cab and oh my god, yes, fine, it's true, this dress WAS made from a window treatment, but it was a very SUBTLE and CLASSIC window treatment, so shut up and take the picture already.

And yet....somehow, someway, part of me feels like you almost make this work. Have I accidentally brainwashed myself from reading multiple articles about how you work really hard and aren't all fame-whorey and whatnot? And if so, how do I get deprogrammed? Do I have to lock myself in the bathroom with a pile of Atlantic Monthlys? Because, honestly, that would probably do me some good.

But, seriously, while I'm incarcerated, you've got to get some Revlon on up in there.

polls by twiigs.com...

Well Played: Harper's Bazaar Cover/Mary-Kate Olsen

I was noodling around at the Borders last night night -- I love the section of the newsstand featuring all the super obscure publications, like, I don't know, Pants and Periscopes Monthly -- and this cover caught my eye:

I gotta admit, I think she looks kind of adorable and great here. Lately, I've sort of been taken by the Olsens. Do they often look as though they're wearing something they've been composting? Yes. But they seem to take their (multitude of) jobs seriously, and they're rarely vomiting out of the side of a limo and, I don't know, I just think they're sort of charming all of a sudden.  Which is why it's nice to see M-K modifying her traditional pouty fish-face into sort of a charming smirk and looking all clean and sort of glamourous, and yet relaxed and grown-up and confident. So, although I am not wild about HB's headlines layout (I know they're going for "uncluttered" but it looks sort of like the cover of Blush, the magazine on Just Shoot Me! -- which, seriously, doesn't Just Shoot Me! sound totally like a made-up show now, like a television show from a chick lit novel about a harried but charming 20-something television producer who eventually finds love with the guy who owns the bodega downstairs? I blame the punctuation), I have to give them a well-played for this one. Maybe on the next cover, we'll even see her teeth.

Fuggy-Kate/Fugley Olsen

I've become kind of fascinated by Mary-Kate Olsen (no offense, Ashley [ed note: oops: see below]; I'm sure you're really interesting, too, but since you never got to be The Tragic Olsen, well, it's not the same). I don't get Showtime, so unfortunately I can't watch Weeds; ergo, I don't know how M-K is doing on it, making New York Minute the only time since Full House that I've seen her speak. But she went through something awfully private in a very public way when we all found out about the anorexia thing, and she seems healthier now. If she's gotten up to any other mischief, she hides it pretty well from the press. And love her clothes or hate her, at least she's consistent with her message.

[Photo: infdaily.com]

That message -- when it's not something along the lines of, "Double, double, toil and trouble" -- is clearly that all her blood circulates in her feet and nowhere else. How else to account for the fact that it's warm enough for open-toed shoes, yet freezing enough for a giant sweater and trenchcoat? You're witnessing a biological marvel, people. That she's a miracle of science should ratchet up New York Minute DVD prices by at LEAST ten cents.

** Apparently there was a snafu with the photo captioning, and this is in fact Ashley despite the photo being labeled MK. Do you know what this means? Do you? It means... that I have a reason to be fascinated by BOTH of the twins now, instead of just one. Thank you, Jesus, for loving me. THANK YOU.

Fuggy-Fugte Olsen

So, we've covered Ashley's Catwoman Takes The Coliseum boots. And since they like to be considered independently of each other, and we are nothing if not obliging, it's now time to turn our attention to the sartorial trevails of Mary-Kate Olsen.

Yep, nothing to see here -- Mary-Kate still looks like her favorite place to shop is the Neverland Ranch Staying-Out-Of-Country Clearance Sale, and the world is therefore still spinning on its axis without incident.

poll by twiigs.com

Scrolldown Fug: Ashley Olsen

Have you ever had one of those days when you just want to enjoy a summer evening breeze bare-legged, but unfortunately, you shaved your legs in a steamy shower after three margaritas and did a horribly crazy, botched job of it, and you lack the time and sobriety to try mowing the lawn a second time? So you're stuck either wearing boots, or wearing cute heels and hoping nobody stares at your calves and wonders if you are a huge The Tudors fan, because why else would you decide to recreate the leafy maze at Hampton Court on your shins?

Well, thank Ashley Olsen, then, because she's got just the footwear solution for you.

Perfect! They cover a multitude of Schick sins and still let you air out at least half the skin on your legs. As a bonus, if this turns into a toga party or a sequel to Gladiator spontaneously breaks out in the middle of the nightclub, you are completely ready for your close-up.

Shoes aside, the rest of her ensemble is actually pretty fetching and chic on her, with the tiny exception of the way the skirt makes me want to yank it down so that it no longer blouses out over the top of her cummerbund. Still, it takes guts to wear a cummerbund. In fact, if she'd worn less aggressive shoes, this whole thing would actually work for me. I like a lot of the risks she takes.

Especially if that is actually a box of crackers in her hand -- being seen out on the town with something that you put in your mouth and swallow? Something that has texture? And isn't indecent -- or, since for many in this town crackers are indecent, something that isn't going to get anyone arrested for exposure? Who'd have thought?

Fuugs

Oh, M-K. Just a few days ago, I was singing your praises. And now, like a rebellious child chafing under the approval of a parent you would prefer to annoy, you have chucked your clean cheeriness right out the window and replaced it with a variety of items that I'm pretty sure you found crumpled in a series of increasingly mustier balls underneath your bed:

Speaking of balls, there's something about your hat/hair combo which reminds me weirdly of former Mischa Barton lover Cisco Adler:

Now that I think about it, adding a little Cisco to your life -- as a boyfriend, a stylistic inspiration or (HEAVENS FORFEND) the both -- is probably an incredibly effective way to irk the parents or parental figures in your life (plus is cheaper than drugs, smarter than getting arrested, and more advisable than attempting to bleach your toddler's teeth).  I hate to give selfishly-motivated man-advice, doll, but it might be easier on everyone's eyeballs if you channeled your rebelliousness into the dudes rather than the duds. (See what I did there? Apparently, it's Corny Wordplay Monday.)

Full Fug/Well Played: Mary-Kate Olsen

I have a couple of questions about Mary-Kate Olsen's look here. 1) Is that a man's Hanes tee shirt, or one of the super expensive tee shirts from her fashion line, The Row? 2) If it IS one of the super expensive tee shirts from The Row, why does it look so much like a man's Hanes tee shirt? 3) The crucifix is very classic Madonna, and I can't dock a girl for that, can I? 4) While I'd never expect to see M-K show up somewhere in a frilly party dress -- and don't want to. It's not her style -- and I'm pleased that she's showing some skin and not draped in pile of fluttering robes, will we ever see her legs, do you think?

The final question is mostly rhetorical:

5) Seriously, how cute is she when she smiles? I don't know if I've seen a picture where M-K looked this happy since...well, practically ever.  Now, everyone knows I'm not a huge fan of Heidi Milkmaid Braids, but her make-up is fabulous and she looks healthy and happy and it's all rather refreshing, no? Here's hoping she banishes the old pouty duck face expression and harsh lipstick for good.

Full Fug

Pop Quiz:

Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen are:

A) pixie-sized vampires, carrying cut-glass vials of human blood in their bags, which they mix with vodka to approximate cosmopolitans at parties.

b) pixie-sized zombies, wearing long skirts and sleeves to conceal their rigor-mortis-ravaged limbs.

c) pixie-sized superfans of The Cure!

d) screwing with us.

Fug House

BOB: It's so nice to be here with the twins now that they're legal. And still talking to me. I mean, seriously, these are good kids. You don't see Stamos here, do you? No. But they are.

MARY-KATE: I wish Stamos were here.

ASHLEY: Bitch STOLE MY LIPSTICK.

BOB: Although... you know what, I wonder if I should have a talk with Mary-Kate. She's basically wearing a boxer's robe. And that's messed up -- I mean, if anyone tried to fight her, they'd get a KO just by sneezing on her hard.

ASHLEY: Seriously, I can't believe she stole that. We don't HAVE to be LIPSTICK TWINS, beeyotch. You already have MY FACE without my permission.

MARY-KATE: Stamos loves a red lip. He told me that. He was talking about someone his own age, but whatever -- we're soulmates. I knew what he meant.

BOB: And also, she really needs to get her roots done. Like, I'm happy to see her, but the reverse skunk stripe thing is annoying the crap out of me.

ASHLEY: At least I did my makeup without scribbling on my face with a black crayon.

MARY-KATE: When Stamos is here, he always takes me into a corner and wipes all the smeared eyeliner from underneath my eyes. It's the most special time I ever spend with another person. Why else would I show up in public looking like this?

BOB: I'm not good at these kinds of talks. I wish Stamos was here. Everyone listens to that sexy bastard. Even I can't stay mad at him.

ASHLEY: I'm totally texting Stamos later -- he'll understand. He'll feel my pain.

MARY-KATE: I can't believe Stamos didn't show. Sigh. Smile through the heartbreak, Mary-Kate.

ALL: Oh, Stamos.

Golden Globes Post-Party Fug: The Olsen Twins

This is about as much collective joy as I've ever seen on the faces of perenially pouty Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen. Aside from being thrilled she remembered her black tube top to wear under her turn-of-the-century PTA party gown, I suspect Ashley is mostly excited that with her new hair, she bears enough of a resemblance to the pretty but generic Kristin Cavallari that she can reignite her acting career by playing the Cavallari's little sister in something really classy, like, National Lampoon's Dick Orgy: Campus Private Eye.

Whereas Mary-Kate is just grateful that she's upgraded from mail-order bride to society madam.

Fuggy-Fug Fugley Olsen

Lest you had forgotten that they are two and not one, the Olsen twins are doggedly continuing in their quest to look as different as possible after all those years of being "Mary-Kate Ashley Olsen" -- an era that began with them being so literally interchangeable that I thought for a long time it was just one actress with a pretentious name.

Ashley has chosen understated clothes, an air of impermeable ennui, and a brunette 'do that I actually rather like; it makes her eyes pop, and after all those years of that fried-looking blond mop, it gives her a welcome sleekness. [Jessica isn't so sure about it, though; she thinks it's blah, and she's not really wrong either. It's kind of all of those things mixed into one. We were going to arm-wrestle to settle this score once and for all, but I am afraid it would be a rout; like George Costanza [edited to note that it might be Monica Gellar, actually... but they're very similar so the confusion is understandable], she is inhumanly strong, and also, her family's mutant power is that they are all really good at arm-wrestling. I think they should pitch an Over The Top sequel. I will make a cameo as the toothless regular who licks her chops at the idea of toppling this clan of upstarts, only to get my ass beaten with a quickness. At which point I will upend the table and speak only in grunts until I'm thrown out of the establishment. Look for it in theaters next fall -- it'll be Oscar bait.]

As pleasant a digression as that was, let's swing back on-topic. I'll hand it to the less-tragic Olsen -- she is very good at choosing outfits that are slightly unusual, and pulling them off anyway. She looks a bit like she's just come from her job as a D.A., but it works, especially with the adorable shoes.

Her twin's divergent direction is, in my estimation, somewhat less successful.

Mary-Kate prefers costuming herself as the Russian mail-order bride of an old heavyset man named Bud, who showed up to claim her at the airport with a wilted bouquet of daisies, a packet of beef jerky, coffee and beer stains on the undershirt that showed beneath his torn sportcoat, and a genuine imitation cubic zirconia rock that he got in a box of Lucky Charms. He will then whisk her away to the most middling suite available at the Sahara in Las Vegas and make an honest, frightened woman out of her.

It's a sad story. Maybe if she'd stuck with her sister, which got her pretty far in life if you think about it, this wouldn't have happened. Although it also sounds like Oscar bait, so she could also turn this to her advantage. So, Mary-Kate, you have two options: run to your manager, or just run.

Full Fug

Let's get one thing straight:  I actually don't dislike what either one of them is wearing.

The long hair and the flowing sleeves and goth-y eye make-up and impenetrable expressions make them look like priestesses in an arty film set in the Middle Ages, during which one of them  would spend a lot of time flitting around a turret holding crystal breakers full of mysterious and possibly dangerous potions. She would wear shoes lined in fur, and a crystal around her neck. The other would play a sort of charismatic, seductive temptress who sleeps with men in order to get a sample of their DNA so as to help her sister create a potion that will allow them to rule the world.  She would spend a lot of time naked, and carrying a serpent. Men would know that she was likely to kill them after having her way with them, but they would take off their capes and doublets and submit to her wiles anyway. It would all be very dramatic, and the absolute opposite of what you would expect from Michelle and Michelle Tanner.  I kind of like it, even though I can think of several reasons why I shouldn't.

However, I DO have a comment: Ashley's new hair color has thrown me for a loop. Newly Brown Olsen IS Ashley, right? It took me twenty minutes to figure that out.   Give us a smile, Brown Olsen.  It can't be that bad.

Fuggy-Kate Olsen

Oh, Frankie. That's good advice. And I'd like to relax -- really, I would -- but, see, I live in L.A. also, and it's making me tense knowing that a pack of rabid chihuahuas is running around trying to tailor people's pants with their fangs. Mary-Kate-or-Ashley (with the latter's new hair color, who can say without a clear look at the eyebrows?) is putting on a brave face, but I'm not so stoic.

Mary-Fug Olsen

Every so often in a girl's life, she goes out and she stays there too late. We here at GFY like to call that experience "college." And also, "The summer of 2003." But let's focus on the college part.

Harken back to the time you, say, went to a dance or a formal party in a cute dress, stayed out all night, did a few kegstands -- just like God intended -- and crashed out on somebody's couch because you didn't want to drive home, and also, you just sort of accidentally fell asleep on it. Then you woke up the next morning cloaked in the clammy chill of beer sweat, your hair so stringy and greasy from the evening's exertions that you could wring it out and fry a chicken. You had to get home. You had a paper due, maybe, or you just desperately wanted to rinse off in the comfort of your own shower shoes. But, what to do? Put back on the dress you wore last night, screaming to everyone that you're skulking home from an all-night rager? Or try to concoct a semi-plausible alternative -- say, by borrowing a flannel from one of the people who lives where you crashed, keeping the tights and shoes on under it, rolling up your dress and putting it in a shopping bag, and hoping that if you walk with enough assertiveness the whole thing will pass for trendy?

The answer, of course, is both. And neither. Because the thing is, it doesn't really matter what you do -- it's hard to hide a Walk Of Shame. It always emanates from you, to the infinite amusement of everyone who saw you that morning in college staggering back to the dorm with a nonchalant expression on your face, or wobbling through the dining-hall waffle line in boxers and heels.

But what I want to know is, why recreate Walk Of Shame couture as some sort of fashion statement? Why would you want to look like yesterday's Beer Pong tournament?

Unless this actually is a walk of shame, in which case... well played, Mary-Kate. Way to embrace college even if you're not attending it any more. But next time, may I suggest a hat? And perhaps fashioning a skirt out of some dishtowels?

Fug York Minute

As we've all learned from soap operas, if you've got a set of twins, there is always a good twin, and a bad -- occasionally even evil -- twin. This is just how it works. And the rule applies doubly when it comes to fashion -- there's the twin who generally looks good, and then the twin that usually ends up looking like an ass. Take Elizabeth and Jessica Wakefield. Jessica Wakefield had the cute striped bikini and flirty skirts and sassy little wedges. Elizabeth Wakefield had pleated pants belted right under her armpits and a pullover with snowflakes all over it and dock shoes. Or Brandon and Brenda Walsh -- which is admittedly a tough call, thanks to the gender difference.  However, despite Brenda's unfortunate tendency toward wearing a man's tie over her bodysuit, Brandon often looked like he was raiding Jim Walsh's closet and his coiffure seemed, at times, to be doing its best impression of a rogue wave, which doesn't work unless you've got Luke Perry's face under there.  So we're giving the Ass Award to Brandon (also because no one rocked the Peach Pit uniform like Brenda As Laverne, and because Brandon was kind of a douchebag). And then, of course, you've got the Olsen twins.  Mary Kate mostly looks like she just rolled out of the back of a dumpster, while Ashley -- we thought -- had mastered the art of looking unusual, but also chic and, you know, clean.

Until now:

Oh, ASH. Where did it all go so terribly wrong? Please tell us this is some kind of Twins Switching Places tomfoolery, or that you and Mary Kate have had your brain switched by Dr Drake Ramoray in order to continue getting complex carbohydrates into M-K's body, or that you've become a Method actress and this outfit is for a role as a crazy, blond old lady. Just don't tell us you think this looks good.

Fug-Fug Olsen

It's nice to see that Mary-Kate Olsen...

a) Still doesn't brush her hair;

b) Still clings to those ribbed tights and staunchly believes that they're viable "bottoms" even though if a stiff wind blew up her overlong tee, her own bottom would be exposed, and not in a cute way, but in an "I see London, I see France, I see the cotton crotch of those uniform tights and that's frankly totally unsexy" kind of way;

c) Still refuses to look anyone in the eye;

d) Has turned to wearing jazz shoes as imagined by the kind folks at Easy "Looks like a pump, feels like a sneaker" Spirit;

e) Still wears strange, inexplicable clothing layers (there is some kind of floaty thing over her tee but under her jacket); and yet...

f) Still seems to be doing better health-wise.

I am such a softie. Well, this second, anyway.

Independent Spirit Awards Fug Carpet: Mary-Kate Olsen

In the hustle and flow of the Oscars, we all momentarily forgot that there was another awards show this past weekend: the Independent Spirit Awards, where the nominees get to "dress down," and, as a result, often look much better than they do when they're all trussed into a formal. Not, however, in the case of our former Derelicte Princess, Mary-Kate Olsen:

The good: her shoes (I'm a sucker for red shoes. When Carson Kressley announced on Queer Eye that only whores wear red shoes, I turned it off and haven't gone back ); her skin; her hair color; her body fat percentage; the sassy interview she gave recently where she gave the impression that she wants nothing to do with the Lindsay/Paris/Kimberly Stewart social scene because she finds that all kind of tiresome, and indeed, you never see her out and about with those girls, which I have to applaud; her chunky awesome ring and the corresponding lack of other crazy piled-on accessories; her continuing relationship with Uncle Jesse.

The bad: that dress. This long, voluminous, bit-part-in-Hidden Tiger, Flying Whatever type outfit works best on tall girls, who won't be overwhelmed by all the fabric (like, Mandy Moore maybe, if she wanted to go a little goth).  And while we all know M-K loooooves to bury her light under a bushel of dollar-a-pound vintage, this is just too much on her tiny little frame -- which, thank God, doesn't look as scary little as it used to. Add to that her too-long hair, and it's all just too much. She looks like she's playing dress-up in clothes that were made for a woman a foot taller than she is.

The ugly: that New York Minute has been surprisingly absent from my late-night cable rotation lately.  And shut up: the ten minutes that M-K and A spend in the House of Bling beauty salon getting made-over -- in a kicky montage, of course -- are pure bliss.

The Fugsen Twins

[Photo courtesy of Zap2It.com.]

In one terrifying moment of clarity, Ashley Olsen realized too late that she and her newly person-sized twin had been told a lie: They were not, in fact, so cute that they could make a Hanes XXL look like high fashion. And she had no idea where she'd left her trousers.

Counter-Fugwise

One thing The Simpsons has taught us about Australia -- aside from the rules to "knifey-spoony" and some vital lessons about the legal system, which involve a massive boot to the behind -- is that everything there is upside-down, backwards, or clockwise when it should be counter-clockwise (no matter what things like "experts" and "science" tell us, we believe the musings of a room full of eccentric former National Lampoon writers).

Further proof of this phenomenon comes from an Aussie reader, who sent us this link to an article in which The Olsen Twins (No. 4), Kate Hudson (No. 5), Lindsay Lohan (No. 6), Sienna Miller (No. 8) and Kelly Osbourne (No. 9) were all put on a Best-Dressed Celebrities list.

Presumably, the only criteria is that they were, in fact, dressed.

Mary-Fug Olsen

It's like she's having twin withdrawal, missing her other half so much that she's wearing enough clothes for both of them.

Fug York Minute

Okay, Mary-Kate. We get it. We know you're into swaddling your skeleton in as many large layers as possible to compensate for your lack of body fat. But it's not fooling anyone:

The cowgirl-doily look wouldn't be flattering on anyone, with or without the giant picnic blanket knotted around her neck. But honey, my stick figures that I drew in elementary school had more meat on their bones. Very scary. What happened with you and Ashley? You were so cute together in New York Minute. Um, not that I saw it. But if I had, I probably would have secretly thought you and your sister were sort of sweet -- I mean, I assume, although of course I have no idea what my reaction to that movie would have been. right? Yes.

What about your counselors? What about the rest of your wardrobe? Did it ever occur to you that you wouldn't need seventeen baggy layers and a wad of plaid if you just had some of nature's insulation?

The thing that's most wrong about this picture is that her "boyfriend" is leading her down the street and not toward another rehab center. Please get her some help, Scruffy Boyfriend. Otherwise, it's going to end tragically, either from the disorder or from you having sex with her and accidentally snapping her in half. Then we'll get some kind of badly written television event in which Ashley makes her first solo acting debut playing Mary-Kate, and... well, that's quite a rabbit hole.

So somebody, please give Lohan and Richie and their ilk a good example to follow, and GET THE GIRL SOME HELP so that she stops losing weight in places where there is no weight to lose.

Also: Please make her stop wearing tents.

VMAs: Beating Fugorexia

If you've just come out of rehab for an "eating disorder" and you are making your first public appearance, perhaps it's not wise to a) look as if you are being held up by the comparative heft of your twin, and b) wear a shapeless sack made out of the tablecloth you stole from rehab so that you'd Always Remember. [Nice of Ashley to generously show solidarity by wearing a shapeless shift of her own.]

The rumor is that Mary-Kate came out of rehab ten pounds heavier. This dress choice makes it look like she lost weight. I really hope she just has no sense of style, and not that she's dressing this way because she's hiding her newfound obesity. Poor kid. CINCH IT, Olsen twin -- you have nothing to hide. Also, keep eating meatball subs. You won't be sorry.

Fug House

Sure, I'm glad she's not wasting away and/or strung out on coke anymore, but... is there such a thing as style rehab?

Let's just run this down. Mary Kate "Skinny Cokehead" Olsen appears to be wearing: lace-trimmed men's basketball shorts layered over black capri-length leggings, a long black shapeless [sweater?] vest over some kind of patterned bra/bikini/halter top, purple jelly shoes, a turquoise clutch and, as the finishing touch, a bright orange plastic-y necklace. At least she looks like she may have, in fact, had a sandwich in the last two weeks. Sadly, the nutrients probably sped right to, like, her vitals organs or some shit, leaving nothing for the Outfit Selection cortex of her brain.

Ashley "Fat Twin [Save the Hate Mail, I'm KIDDING]" Olsen is no better in what looks like khaki Bermuda shorts, heels and some kind of I'm All Grown-Up Blazer thing. I'd say more, but it's too hard to see her in this photo and God knows, I wouldn't want to make assumptions.

And I know we're all worried about their mental health and their lunch selections and Oh My God Are They Still Virgins? and whatnot, but why hasn't anyone said anything about their hair? It's. So. Stringy. Comb your hairs, Olsens!