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October 17, 2005

The O Fug


MISCHA BARTON, a young actress, stands in front of her closet.


What should I wear to the Ivy tonight? What to wear....what to wear....? The Jaclyn Smith Women's Collection caftan? No, that's so Mary Kate, and no one's seen her out and about in ages.  The argyle sweaterdress with the mukluks? No, too Ashlee Simpson. God forbid. I'd rather die. The gray twill jumpsuit? No, what if someone thinks I'm Maggie Gylllllenhallalalalll or whatever her name is? Like I would ever make a movie where I end up peeing myself just so some guy can spank me, or whatever happened at the end of that movie. God. I hate EVERYTHING I own. Everything! Except....

Yes! My BIKE SHORTS! I can even go to spinning class on the way to dinner. Excellent!


Posted by Jessica at 03:54 PM in Mischa Barton | Permalink

September 29, 2005

The Sixth Fug

Well, naturally. What do you wear to walk the dog if not a belted tunic stolen from K-Mart's very exclusive Peter Pan Collection, and some slouchy rattan boots?

Seems like the obvious choice to me.

Posted by Jessica at 12:18 PM in Mischa Barton | Permalink

August 23, 2005

The Fugcameron

Mischa Barton, having finally popped the festering zit that was her relationship with the walking oil slick Brandon Davis, has been out and about quite a bit lately -- and in a series of unfortunate outfits.

It's unclear to me what this is. It certainly looks like a negligee tucked into a fug festival of a skirt -- one that's part artist's rendering of a Disney forest scene and part fashion Rorschach test, where your psyche is evaluated based on whether you see Frosty the Snowman down on that hem, or if you see an antelope skull, or a baseball, or all three -- but I suppose it could also be one of those suits where she's supposed to have a matching jacket on over the shell. God, can you imagine MORE of that skirt print? She is a paintball game at the Los Angeles County Carnival of Fug.

And yet, while she's suffering from shirtus interruptus up above there, in the next photo she has the opposite problem:

That thing is a misshapen, dumpy sheath that goes on way longer than it ever should. Also, those shoulders... this was made for a cross-dressing linebacker, not a waif starlet in the sweaty and unnecessary throes of Legging Fever. It's a KNEE-LENGTH SPARKLY GUNNY SACK, Mischa. Why leggings? WHY? Why any of it? Did you leave your mind in Italy? Did Hayden Christensen pack it in his suitcase by mistake? You're wearing something that even Krystle Carrington herself would've looked at and said, "You know what, that's really ugly, shapeless, and designed for a broad-shouldered man. Now bring me my satin nightdress -- I have to wait on the bearskin rug for Blake so we can kiss chastely." And if it's too drapey and outmoded for Linda Evans, well, then it belongs in your Goodwill pile.

Posted by Heather at 10:59 AM in Mischa Barton | Permalink

June 07, 2005

The Fug.C.

On the Olsen scale, with 1 being "adorably quirky" and 10 being "homeless, deranged, and overly swaddled," Rachel Bilson is quickly approaching a 7 -- which roughly translates to, "Unauthorized use of layers/ill-advised dash of Brat Pack Envy."

Her co-star Mischa Barton isn't faring much better. Although she's eschewed  the popular "wear everything resemblng anything" approach to getting dressed, she has veered sharply into Don Johnson's closet:

The linen pants, were they the right size, could pass. But with those two matching, reedy suspenders that are about as helpful to the trousers as her skin is in covering up that collarbone... well, they are something of a baffling, baggy problem. Hopefully, the bags Brandon is pretending he enjoys carrying all contain garments that don't make her look like she is a pair of designer waders and a bait hook away from her very own bass fishing calendar.

Posted by Heather at 08:56 AM in Mischa Barton, Rachel Bilson | Permalink

March 11, 2005

Is This Because I'm a Fugbian?

Mischa, Mischa, Mischa. This is getting somewhat pathetic.

If you want my attention so badly, just email me. I'd love to chat with you! I have ever so many questions. How greasy IS Brandon? Do you want to kill yourself everytime you're forced to double with Jason Davis and Courtney Peldon? Or do you just want to kill her and dump her body in the river? Is she just impossible to talk to? What does she do all day? Could you find out for me? How do you feel about the direction The OC is going this year? Don't you think last night's episode was like a potential 9th season episode of 90210 that Aaron Spelling dismissed as being too hacky? And yet, at the same time, do you not love Julie Cooper-Nichol? Isn't she the only thing keeping you from switching over to Survivor? Do you actually wear Keds? What's the square root of 436? Seriously, WHAT ARE YOU WEARING? Did it come like that, or is it one of your own designs? Weren't you proud that your number wasn't in Paris's Sidekick? Is you hair naturally very fine, because it looks like it might be? If so, how do you get it to hold a curl, because I just can't do that? Did all the mirrors in your house break? Are you suprised that the more I fug you, the more i start to like you because you have such amusing facial expressions? Have you thought about using those expressions when you're acting? Can you believe that I like your shoes? Do you want to go to the Coffee Bean?

And so forth.

So, really, there's no call to try to get my attention like this. Because you really are just starting to look a bit deranged.

Posted by Jessica at 01:20 PM in Mischa Barton | Permalink

March 08, 2005


Okay, Mischa, are you taunting me? Because you kind of look like you want a piece of me. Like you're saying, "come and get me, bitch. I'm ready for you. Bring it on. Let's see what you've got."

Is that what you're doing? Is this a conscious ploy for my attention? A cry for help? Or is this some kind of sartorial version of You Got Served? Is this like the part where the kid spins around on his head, except the spinning has been replaced by purple velour sweatpants worn -- sweet God, no -- with a RICK-RACK SEQUINED CARDIGAN?

Do you REALLY want to do this to yourself, Mischa? Do you really want to hurt me? Do really want to make me cry? Do you want to make my eyes bleed? What other reason could you possibly have for dressing like your boyfriend's grandmother,  Barbara Davis, from the waist up? Not to mention the fact that, according to W magazine, Barbara Davis raises kajillions of dollars for charity each year and when she sees you in those pants, she may very well think the you need some of that money to BUY YOURSELF PANTS THAT ARE APPROPRIATE TO WEAR WITH A CARDIGAN and, oh, will it be embarrassing when she tries to write you a check at brunch next week.

My only theory -- other than the I Am Going to Wear The Craziest Outfit I Can Think of Out Shopping So As to Taunt The Fug Girls HAHAHAHHAHA COME AND GET ME FUG GIRLS I AM SO READY FOR YOU SO BRING IT! Theory -- is that, at some point en route to the Grove, Mischa spilled a Slurpie on her regular pants and had to fish her old Lounge Around The House Watching Lifetime and Eating Peanut Butter With a Spoon grubbies out of the trunk so as to avoid going pantsless in public.

Look, Mischa: I am trying to help you out. I sort of like Marissa now that she's a lesbian, so I'd like to throw you a bone. BUT YOU ARE NOT MAKING IT EASY FOR ME. LOOK AT HOW SHOUTY I AM.

Couldn't you at least have bought some pants? WORK WITH ME,  KID.

Posted by Jessica at 09:00 AM in Mischa Barton | Permalink

March 02, 2005

Oscar Post-Party Fugshion: Mischa Barton

[Photo courtesy of Daily Celeb.]

Mischa Barton seems not to realize that when you're going to an Oscar party, you don't have to dress like Oscar's sister. Although maybe she got the dress from the gift bag -- it certainly looks like the kind of gold cellophane wrap that would line a vat of expensive freebies.

Mischa's sister, incidentally, looks amusingly humiliated.

Posted by Heather at 10:57 AM in Mischa Barton, Oscars | Permalink

January 21, 2005

Mischa Fugton

Somehow, in a way I can't articulate, Mischa Barton looks like something you might find in a Bed, Bath and Beyond:

[Photo courtesy of Daily Celeb.]

Now, I like the color. I think I also like the shoes. But the dress has an unfortunate "tulle lampshade" look to it, which might not matter, if the dress didn't also add her to the list of people who put on strapless things that make their breasts look like they're sinking like stones. Not to mention that it exposes those kicky tan lines stamped on her torso.

Posted by Heather at 02:28 PM in Mischa Barton | Permalink | Comments (20)

January 04, 2005

At Least She's Not Wearing THE HAT

My dear Mischa,

I thought you said your New Year's Resolution was to wear fewer sequins.

Giving up so soon? Or was this photo snapped prior to the first of the year, and this is your Farewell to Sequins swansong? In which case, way to go out with a bang, sweetpea.

I admire your sense of adventure, fashion-wise, but don't you think this might be a little bit much, you know, for a beach cover-up? Maybe it's a little....clash-y? I mean, there's a lot going on there. You look a little bit like a slot machine, all bright blinking lights and distracting spangles and sparkly trim.

I must admit, however, that your ice cream cone looks divine. Chocolate-dipped cone? Well played, my dear. Well played, indeed.

Posted by Jessica at 10:05 AM in Mischa Barton | Permalink | Comments (5)

December 08, 2004

Welcome To The Fug Blog, Bitch, II: The Fuggening

Thanks to the efforts of one our helpful -- and, in this case, extremely brave --readers, we can now present the entire horror of Mischa "Marissa Cooper Dresses Funny" Barton's misguided, bow-encrusted previously-mocked fashion atrocity:

Behold, the ill-fitting trousers. I've seen sexier pants on the PGA Senior Tour:

And the piece de resistance, The Bow:

As Summer would say, "ew."

Posted by Jessica at 04:24 PM in Mischa Barton | Permalink | Comments (3)


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