Random Fug: Alice Kremelberg

This girl was on a really funny episode of 30 Rock, which I adore, so it pains me to post this photograph.

However, it pains me MORE that she's wearing: a splotchy denim skirt with what MIGHT be an old nylon around the waist; the same cardigan I kept on the back of my old day job's office chair for those occasions (read: all day) when the air conditioning was on full force and couldn't be turned down and I had no other option for keeping my blood flowing; the boots that Robin Hood wears when it's his turn to muck out the Sherwood Forest outhouse; and what looks like a leotard a gymnast would wear during a routine set to the Little House on the Prairie theme song.

So really, it's all about which is the greater agony. Apparently the fashion anguish won.

Nickelodeon Kids' Choice Awards Fug Carpet: Random Fug

Actress Skye McCole Bartusiak is only 16. Therefore, she wasn't even ALIVE in the 1980s, so I will take a deep breath, empty a bottle of moisturizer on my crow's feet, ad try to give her a pass for not understanding that nobody should ever yearn for that decade except for maybe Andrew Ridgeley.

Being a teenager is a tough in front of the flashbulbs. Clearly Skye is trying some kind of self-expression, so I will be restrained and simply note: Her parents are hosed. No, seriously, their authority is totally compromised. In a year or two this girl is going to want to quit school and backpack through Western Europe for six months with her life savings and a Swedish bartender named Ulf, and when they try to stop her, she will scream, "OH YEAH? WHERE WAS THAT RED LIGHT WHEN I LEFT THE HOUSE LOOKING LIKE A CRACKED-OUT EMOTICON?" And they will be speechless, and off she'll go, returning a year later than expected with a wicked crepe habit and a tattoo that says "BITTE, BABY" on her left boob. I just hope they're prepared.

LA Fugshion Week: Random Fug

All right, I suppose if you have seen The Texas Chainsaw Massacre or Hostel: Part II, then actress Lauren German technically is not random to you (assuming you could see anything through the blood). And presumably, since she got invited to LA Fashion Week, she's a familiar face to the good people at Mercedes Benz as well.

She also seems to be on a first-name basis with the entire staff at Nordstrom's juniors department.

I hear they have developed a sport out of throwing any old thing over her dressing-room door and awarding a bonus to the salesperson who convinces her to buy the dumbest ensemble. This one, prominently featuring pants that I'm pretty sure my friend Becky wore to sleep over at my house when we were in fifth grade, has to have been worth at least a $50 prize to one such cruel genius. I guess Lauren is milking the ten months she has left in her twenties, but seriously, even my nine-year old friend did better with those things -- and this was at a time when we were madly, blindingly in love with the lead singer of a-ha, wore a minimum of two Swatches at once, and wrote things like, "Stay sweet! Have a great summer and I'll see you next year! BFF 4EVA!" in each other's yearbooks. I am not sure what Lauren's excuse is.

Random Fug: Eureka

So, I tried to figure out who this Eureka person is, but Wikipedia could not help me -- unless I am mistaken and she IS, in fact, Dorothy Gale's cat from The Wizard of Oz, a large-scale business-plan competition in India, a town in Nova Scotia, or a WWII paratrooper beacon. Otherwise, it's never a good sign when you are a performer but you don't have a Wikipedia page. Surely she has a friend who could get on that, or a few hours in her schedule.

All that may change soon enough, though. This mysterious "Eureka" person is performing at an NBA All-Star Weekend event, and based on what she's wearing, she may soon get her own entry under "Eureka (singer, Lil' Kim impersonator)":

[Photo: Splash News]

This is not an outfit. This is that page in the Victoria's Secret catalog that you come upon and the snort at, because normal people don't lounge around the house -- or a club, or a formal party, or any event that doesn't involve seducing the pool boy -- in itchy-looking sparkly sweatpants and a shiny, swirly bra that's barely holding in your goods. Only Lil' Kim, our favorite nudist sprite of yore, would have the tenacity to wear this outside and call it clothes -- and frankly, Latter-Day Lil' Kim, who got sprung from the pokey after spending all that time in full-coverage orange jumpsuits, would probably snort that this is "too obvious." So this is either a touching homage to the tiny exhibitionist we came to love back in 1999, or just Eureka's desperate attempt to get Diana Ross to grab her boob. Either way, we're pretty sure a Wikipedia page might be born today. Go stick a candle into a cupcake and celebrate with her.

However, I'm still not convinced the beacon entry wouldn't partially apply. You could probably see those pants from 30,000 feet, although they certainly would not make me want to jump toward them.

Random Fug (But Not For Long)

Relative newcomer Jess Weixler stars in an upcoming movie called Teeth about... well, there's no easy way to say this, so I'll put it simply: Her character's genitals have teeth. Her crotch is a Venus Flytrap, and it is no vegetarian.

Given that, maybe this all makes sense.

Maybe if one of us had to be associated forever with having little shop of horrors in our pants, we'd ALSO shave half the skirt off a Disney Pretty Princess costume and layer it like body armor over a black skirt. Maybe we'd WANT to distract from being The Pretty, Pretty Face Of Vagina Dentata by borrowing a color scheme from a particularly nasty bruise. Honestly, no one knows what the appropriate reaction is, because no one else has ever been faced with being so closely identified with an angry lady-maw.

Well, except for Disney, since I just dragged them into this. If Minnie Mouse starts wandering around Burbank in something similar, we'll be well on our way to a new, groundbreaking understanding. Also, we'll put in a warning call to her gyno.

Random Fug

In searching for information on actress Menna Shalabi, I accidentally stumbled through the looking glass: There is no Wikipedia page for her. How can that be? How is it that there is no self-proclaimed expert on all things Menna Shalabi -- not even Menna Shalabi herself -- who has devoted a free online page to the details of her career and salacious rumors about her personal life, or her pets, or the mysteries of her shoe size? All you get if you Google her is an unsatisfactory IMDb page, a comment on a blog entry that deems her "vulgar," and YouTube footage that indicates that she might once have been in some kind of car accident. Such is my life that when Wikipedia draws a blank, so do I; ergo, I have no choice but to infer from those fuzzy snippets that Menna is an actress who is passionately committed to swearing and has poor vehicular karma. And whose name anagrams either to A Blase Ham Inn -- which sounds unappealing, as there is nothing more disheartening than a bed-and-breakfast that is not fully enthusiastic about ham -- and Inane Lab Sham, which implies she might be prone to skulking around hospitals to pull DNA test switcheroos.

None of which has anything to do with what she was wearing. I just needed to share my frustration. Thank you, readers, for being a friend. But let's get to the point now, which is this:

Truthfully, I'm not sure how you're SUPPOSED to wear a dress with a sheer front. It's a bit like debating how high to pull up your legwarmers, or whether you should wear a turtleneck with the barrel you have poked your legs through -- is there REALLY a RIGHT way to do it? Indeed, having decided that a nude boobular contraption would blend right into nude gauze and fade away from sight, Menna appears to have strapped herself into a serious Bad Idea Bustier on this occasion. On the plus side: If Project Runway ever again asks someone to recontextualize the mighty shoulder pad, this makes for an amusing blueprint. Sure, it'll end up on a Mannequin of Shame, but it'd be worth it just to see Tim Gunn's brow furrow as he scrapes together the last vestiges of tact in his arsenal.

Random Fug

I can't decide if Carmen Lebbos here is AWESOME or out of her mind:

A cape! A corset top! Wide-legged pants! All in BLACK SATIN! It's like Dracula: Saturday Night Fever.

Random Fug

Being as she was born in 1988, Tamsin Egerton missed black mesh armwarmers the first time around. So I suppose I could give her a pass for resurrecting them, figuring she didn't necessarily know better.

Unfortunately, by virtue of the fact that they are black mesh armwarmers, she automatically should have known better. Her foremothers did yeoman's work in allowing themselves to be documented in things like that, so that future generations would live a wiser life. So unless Tamsin has been diagnosed with a near-fatal case of olecranondular hyposanguination -- the medical-sounding name I made up for what history will call Really Freaking Cold Elbow Syndrome -- then there is no Get Out Of Jail Free card available here. Indeed, this might be the photo equivalent of landing on Boardwalk with a hotel on it.

Well, maybe not Boardwalk. But at LEAST Marvin Gardens, which was always my favorite property name in that otherwise horrible, evil game that I cannot ever win. When Ridley Scott makes his movie of Monopoly -- if the apocalypse does not first arrive via a swarm of giant silver top hats -- I somehow envision Jim Carrey playing Marvin Gardens as a slightly filthier Ace Ventura who owns a combination saloon and flower shop.

poll by twiigs.com

Random Fug

Christina DeRosa, the best I can tell from the information available on the interwebs, is one of those Actress/Models/Whatevers that abound here in Los Angeles like fleas on a feral cat.

In her case, the Whatever seems to involve having to dress like the lovechild of Joey Tribbiani that time he was working as the Hombre Cologne man, the weekend floor manager at the Gap, and a stripper with a gladiator fetish.

Random Fug: Rebecca Ryan

If you are styling a 16-year old British actress starring on a show called Shameless, please don't let her out of the house in an outfit that attempts to prove her show title is apt:

[Photo: Splash News]

This kid is going to look at this picture in five years and be like, "Seriously, you people let me wear that? Why? What is wrong with you? I WAS NOT DANCING IN THE NUTCRACKER."

Still, don't worry, Rebecca. We ALL wore stuff when we were 16 that would make us cry today. Like vests, or cropped sweaters the likes of which Valerie on 90210 would wear with extremely high-waisted, possibly pegged jeans. So when you DO flip past this photo in your family album in several years' time, comfort yourself with the knowledge that -- while it IS a misguided deployment of a tutu -- it's not any of those other things. And hey, if a foot-breaking epidemic sweeps through the entire cluster of ballerinas slated to play Clara this year, you can step in and save Christmas.

Random(ish) Fug: Jaime Winstone

When we got an e-mail this morning titled, "The Most Heinous Jumpsuit Of All Time," I thought to myself, "Well, that is coming up against some pretty stiff competition." It's like saying you've found the world's foulest-tasting Brussels sprout, or the douchiest-ever Chad Michael Murray facial expression: There's just too much competition to know for sure.

But, once I laid eyes on the jumpsuit befouling wee pixie Jaime Winstone (British actress, daughter of the actor who is currently trying to make us care about Beowulf on film despite the fact that 99 percent of people who had to read that in English class -- as I did, THREE TIMES in my life somehow -- wanted to hurl themselves off the nearest bridge), I had to concede that this one is probably pretty close to the top of the list:

Listen, we all fondly remember Madonna's crazy conic-bra phase. But the only person who should attempt geometric boobs in this lifetime or anyone else's is Madonna herself. Also, I am pretty sure that thing is made of 150 thread-count sheets she picked up at a Marks & Spencer clearance sale. The tailor presumably had donated his or her hands to science before getting around to finishing this with nothing but feet and his/her teeth to do it, and it's so waistless and borderline dowdy that it resembles nothing so much as wearable fashion for the incontinent -- Depends by Talbots, or something. And finally sweet god, she caught Stumpophrenia from Kristen Bell. It couldn't be worse.

Could it?

Not only is it ill-fitting, but it's got a BUSTLE. Or a bow. Or an ass-muffler. I'm not really sure, but I do feel confident that outside of on the body of some softly lit model with giant hair from that wickedly dated fashion soap Paper Dolls, that thing should never exist in nature. Poor old brother-of-Lily-Allen looks like he is trying to laugh off the ginormous fabric scrap heap on his girlfriend's hindquarters, because otherwise, he might burst into tears and then run home and sob all over a MySpace video-blog about how damaging it was to stand next to, if not THE worst, then at least one of the world's leading shittier-than-Winehouse heinous jumpsuits.

poll by twiigs.com

Random Fug: Aline

It's got to be a little awkward when you show up at a major event and parts of your dress are the exact same color as the carpet.

But I bet it's even more awkward to when the entire crowd is speechless, trying to decide if you are paying tribute to Penicillium mold, honoring Green Week with an homage to the idea of an environmentally friendly Elizabethan England, or simply inspired enough by the concept of a Cabbage Patch Kid to style yourself as though your head is sitting on a bed of greens.

Random Fugs: German Edition

Every so often, as you have probably gleaned from how often we yap about it, we're inspired to let our fingers do the walking on our Random Fugs -- sometimes, we'd rather have another bag of Kettle Chips, of course, but other times our curiosity gets the best of us, and so far no cats have been harmed in any of these episodes.

More often than not, actually making an effort is richly rewarded by awesome information that warms our cold, dead hearts. Take actress Wolke Hegenbarth, for example. When you translate her Wikipedia page -- which we assume is probably not the most reliable or accurate way to read German, but we don't mind; it's almost better when it's jacked up -- it tells you that in addition to her TV role, she's starred in such moving cinematic poetry as One Dog, Two Suitcases, And A Very Large Love, and of course the classic Dead Trousers.

Evidently, the latter was a documentary.

In it, we learn how a girl and her obsession with bikini waxes led to the tragic ritual suicide of all her pants, which shredded themselves in protest because she refused to wear anything that covered her upper thighs. If a disco beach party breaks out -- as we assume it will, because nothing says "disco beach party" to us quite like the German Television Awards -- she'll be well prepared to do the Hustle either in or near the ocean.

Apparently, a theme at this year's boob-tube fete in lovely Deutschland was, "Have you heard about my waxer?" Behold:

"Look! Can you see? Smooth as a baby's bottom! I tucked a few of her business cards in there -- please take one!"

Whereas this lady would just like all the single men at the wedding to know that, while she hates the bridesmaid's dress, she is, ahem, groomed and ready.

Random Fug: Ingrid Rubio

Hopefully, medics were on hand to ensure that this Spanish actress was not being slowly asphyxiated by a renegade twelve-pack of black buttons and its venal fabric ally:

However, the upside is that anyone seeking the perfect elaborate neck brace -- with matching jacket! -- need look no further. When whiplash becomes the height of fashion, this woman's nape stylist will make a mint. I'll take ten percent.

Random Fug

I deeply, deeply hope that this woman is preparing to be Spain's entry in the next Eurovision Song Contest, because nowhere else would this outfit be more magical and appropriate -- and yet, at the same time, downright frumpy.

Somewhere in Vegas, a stripper is copying this look to wear to a funeral.

Random Fug

Completely missing the point of the revolution it's bastardizing, Nike is oddly pleased to announce its new line of dress sneakers to be sold under the slogan, "Looks like a sneaker, feels like a pump."

And who better to debut them than a girl who looks like she spent $2 to rent a dress from a costume shop specializing in ill-fitting nightgowns. Which I guess might come in handy if you're playing Daisy Mae in the little-known Lil' Abner 2: Lil'er Abner, wherein Daisy is frightened to learn the details of coitus and flees from her marriage bed. For the red carpet, though, I might've gone with something that actually fit, and was somewhat attractive, rather than an outfit that Forever 21 would cast out of its stores for being "too poorly made."

Random Fug

This inventive dress works brilliantly if you're attending the same formal event as, say, the old high-school rival who makes you want to drop through the floor, the coworker you're pretty sure has the SARS, or the boss who doesn't realize you're secretly a spy and are there on a very sensitive undercover operation:

To hide, simply bury your face in the cranium-sized fabric attachment or yank it right up over your hair, and everything will fly right past you. So stress no more when you bump into the ex-boyfriend who you realized was off his nut when he started talking nonsense about how he wants to name your children "Spackle" and "Rotary Phone," and how showers are too damn bossy for their own good, forcing you to fake your death to get him to stop calling you, except now you're at the same restaurant and if he recognizes you he'll mace you or, worse, put you on the phone with his psychic friend. This will hide you as adeptly as a funeral shroud.

Random Fug: Sybil Danning

I think I've figured out why Peter Pan didn't want to grow up.

The poor lad's mother was a dominatrix, and it beat the yen for puberty right out of him.

Random Fug: Nathalia Ramos (or, as we prefer to remember her, That Girl Who Played Bob Loblaw's Daughter)

Welcome to the newest innovation in efficient summer fashion: Quilted formal shorts, brought to you by the makers of Bounty paper towels.

Bright enough to conceal food stains; absorbent enough to take care of any unexpected spills, like when you overfill your martini glass, or knock back one too many and trip over your best friend's handsy cousin from Connecticut; and stretchy enough for you to comfortably kick him in the shins when he tries to help you up by the boobs. If only such a garment had existed back when Fergie needed it most. It's like an adult diaper without the stigma. And the awkward bulk.

Random Fugs: Amber and Chyna Stevens

AMBER: Well. This is... embarrassing.

CHYNA: Tell me about it.

AMBER: I don't get it. When I told you I wanted to wear this, you said I looked like a barmaid at the Mom Jeans Saloon.

CHYNA: And you told ME I this outfit only works if it's my day to fill the pig troughs!

AMBER: WELL IT'S TRUE.

CHYNA: That goes double for me!

AMBER: So if my outfit SUCKS so much, how come you're wearing yours?

CHYNA: ... Peer pressure?

AMBER: God, it's so deadly, isn't it? People just don't know.

CHYNA: Wanna go get our hair cut like Posh Spice's?

AMBER: OHMYGODYES.

CHYNA: I heard that Miley Cyrus say she was thinking about it and I want to BEAT HER THERE.

AMBER: Whee! But let's change first.

Random Fug

Was this International "Pay Homage to the Fashions of Aaron Spelling Shows" Week?

Or is this NOT something Sammy Jo or Amanda or the deadly Claudia Blaisdel and the Case of the Hideous Bangs has ever worn on Dynasty? It's hard to tell sometimes -- all the slacks and flowing fabrics start to run together into one giant billowing drape, the likes of which is just begging to get caught in somebody's flaming candles of hate.

Admittedly, this is not the weirdest Echoes of 1982 ensemble I've ever seen, but somehow I still can't get over the nagging feeling that I was supposed to be spending the week wearing a tributary cocktail of bejeweled culottes, a blouse with puffed sleeves, and a satin turban. And I would. For Aaron Spelling? Anything. Of course, these days, I'd probably have an easier time locating the sensible moccasins, khakis, and denim long-sleeved button-down shirts that the mom on 7th Heaven probably cherishes so. In fact, I might go pick some up now so I can enjoy the last day of this special week, just in case my instinct is right. Plus, that way I probably won't frighten the mailman. He's not spry enough to survive an abruptly deployed satin turban.

Random Fug: 90210 Tribute Edition

I'm not sure who this woman is.

But I'm pretty sure I know who she thinks she is: Emily Valentine, the off-key-crooning, guitar-playing tongue bandit who licked a trail through Dylan to Brandon, slipped a drug called U4EA ("It's '4'you and '4' me") into Brandon's drink at a rave so she and Brandon could trip out and eat each other's faces on the hood of his car, then turned psycho when he dumped her for it and slashed her own tires, sent menacing letters to The Blaze -- which, honey, don't piss off Andrea Zuckerman or she will THINK you to DEATH -- made prank phone calls and then, because there are only so many times you can tell Brandon his refrigerator is running and he'd better go catch it before he realizes it's a prank, finally dumped gasoline on a homecoming float and sat on it playing with a lighter.

Indeed, I wouldn't be at all surprised if this lady tried to get into the party by exchanging an egg. And Jason Priestley is happily married and just had a baby, so someone should maybe check her pockets for any vengeful-looking lighter fluid.

Random Fug

You are in a tragic state of affairs when you're attending an Australian awards show, as this young lady is, and photographed on the red carpet, but your name doesn't even pop up on Google.*

I'm told this lovely girl wearing the dramatic window treatment is named Amli, but Google claims that she is: a company providing short-term, furnished corporate apartments; the Association of Medical Laboratory Immunologists; the government's Abandoned Mine Lands Initiative; American Medical and Life Insurance;  and a town in India and/or Norway. Which makes me think that when she sits down with her team, she needs to fire both her stylist AND her publicist.

* Thanks to our crack team of Australian readers, we now know that this is Amali Ward, Australian Idol contestant, who needs to talk to her PR flack about making sure she knows the correct spelling of her client's name.

Random Fug

This is Calico Cooper. Under most circumstances, this is where I would comment that the cat I had in elementary school was named Calico. She was also a calico cat. I named her myself. At 7 years old, I was not creative enough to name her, say, Mrs Whiskers Waddlelypants or something. This was around the same time that my friend Andrea's brother named their rabbit "Jessica" (this was, mind you, pre-Who Framed Roger Rabbit?) the day their parents accidentally ran it over with the car. As a child, it is somewhat traumatic when something with your name get murdered. And because Calico Cooper's father is Alice Cooper, I feel that commenting on her name might get ME run over, just like that poor little rabbit.

Instead, I'll just say that you'd think Alice Cooper's kid would have bypassed the whole shorty Grandpa Robe and Aerosoles thing.

Random Fug

I've realized what it is about super high-waisted denim that bothers me.

(Sorry, random actress who appeared on one episode of How I Met Your Mother, which I'm sure I watched but don't remember you from, but you are going to have to be my visual aide today. PS: My grammar in that sentence is AWESOME. Conjugate that!) It's not that high-waisted denim tends to give most of us a more prominent belly pooch than we'd like, and it's not that it reminds me of my mom. It's that it reminds me of this:

Not that Steve Perry isn't AWESOME -- listen, I had this revelation while speeding down the Pasadena Freeway with the top down and the radio on, all, "Is that JOURNEY? TURN IT UP!" because "Separate Ways" rules -- but he's not exactly what I would call a style icon for young women.

Although...now that I think about it, with the high-waisted jeans, leather jacket and whimsical rocker tee, plus the long, layered hair, he kind of is totally on trend right now. I mean this...:

...does not even look nearly as weird as it ought to.

Man.  First he lands that sweet  Sopranos song placement, and now he appears to be the inspiration for starlets everywhere.  Steve Perry is on a roll, dude.

Random Fug

I was going to comment, in somewhat snippier tones, that I don't care for what clothing designer Jessie Della Femina is wearing.

And then I realized that might not be fair: Is she really technically wearing it? Or is it simply strung up there carelessly trying to decorate her? One enthusiastic shrug, one wild gesture, and the groceries will come tumbling out of the bag.

It's so sad when kids today treat their chests like curtain rods. What are they teaching in sex-ed, anyway?

Random Fug

Lunchtime quiz! (Okay, it's nearly 3pm. Late lunchtime quiz? Tea time quiz? Snack time quiz? Whatever).

poll by twiigs.com...

Random Fug: Daphne Guinness

My old pal Google tells me that Daphne Guinness' name is not just a coincidence, and she is in fact a beer heiress. Lucky girl. If I were a beer heiress I would totally make up business cards for myself and pass them out to everyone I met, because that's the best title I can think of (alongside that Banana Republic pants campaign where they made fake newspaper headlines about trends that included the words, "Chief Pants Officer") and I would want to brag.

Evidently, Daphne has a history of incredibly kooky, colorful personal style that, for me, verges on masterfully insane. She has an ensemble for every part she could possibly play in the Las Vegas Showgirl Circus, and if we cloned her and opened that very show with all of them, that would be one hell of an evening.

Perhaps Cruella De Vil could emcee.

Suggestion for Sienna Miller: THIS crazy makeup would actually look better than what you were wearing. So consider making Blow The Froth Off A Couple Cold Ones: The Daphne Guinness Story your next biopic. You could totally pass, and it'd give you a chance to try out fingerless gloves and 1,000 rings for yourself, which I'm sure you're dying to try and pull off.

Random Fug

Amy Pearson, it seems, is an Australian pop star of some sort. Having listened to her single on her MySpace, she sounds a bit like....Kelly Clarkson as reinterpreted by Hilary Duff.  Needless to say, it might be hard to concentrate on her sound when she's showing up places dressed like a grape as reinterpreted by a wedding planner:

It's always so sad when a cute girl is cruelly hacked down by vindictive fruit.

BET Awards Fug Carpet: Random Fug

This woman is bravely providing Exhibit A as to why one should never knit one's own clothes while watching Season 1 90210 reruns on SoapNet. It all seems fun at first, but then you find yourself gawking at Brandon's fluffy mullet and screaming indignantly at the galling way Brenda gets upset and climbs onto the moral high-ground when the 25-year old she's been secretly dating dares to be upset that she lied about being of legal age. Then suddenly Andrea is going on about  The Blaze being the top-ranked high-school newspaper in the country (ha!) and Kelly uses the word "dorkmeyer" and Brandon's ex from Minnesota tells him he's a "wonderful lover" and then he becomes a total self-righteous douchebag and you're yelling at the television and rolling your eyes so hard that they quit working and you're catatonic for a few days... and then, you wake up one day and the dress you were slaving over only has half a skirt. And because you've been so immersed in their world and their clothes, you start to see nothing wrong with wearing it anyway, over a pair of cuffed  knee-length jean-shorts, because hey, Kelly wore some over polka-dot leggings and she was still popular.

Don't let this happen to you. Oh, don't get me wrong, you should still watch the re-runs -- I believe today is mother-daughter fashion show at which Brenda learns Kelly's mother is a cokehead. But just don't mix the Walshes with your wardrobe.

BET Awards Fug Carpet: Random Fug

Well, I suppose it was only a matter of time before Formal Shorts placed a touchy-feely hand onto the knee of The Dreaded Manpri and gave it a loving squeeze.

What's next? We've already seen hints of man-leggings on the catwalk. Will Dress Over Pants be caught copulating greedily with a second pair of pants, giving rise to Pants-Over Pants? Oh, I can't look. It's like The Island of Dr. Moreau over here, except with cotton and no aging, corpulent overlord. And no creepy person-animals.

So really, maybe it's more like the annoying garage chem lab of that girl on Hidden Palms. Either way, I repeat: I am afraid to look... yet cannot look away.

Random Fug

I was considering wearing this to my next gynecological appointment, just to cut down on time:

Too formal?

Random Fug

There are days when I just have loads to say about a variety of outfits. The references to Judith Krantz and Dynasty and Sweet Valley High fly fast and furious. And then there are times when I simply don't have to say anything:

I mean, seriously.
 

Random Fug

Confidential to Linzi Stoppard (who is, according to the Interwebs, allegedly the "hottest electric rock violinist in the world," a statement which is probably accurate, in that she is pretty and I also can't think of any other electric rock violinists):

Just because you're attending the premiere of The Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer, you're not required to actually go in costume as the titular character.

Random Fug

Okay, true confession: There is one very specific time in which I might be caught with a dress on over pants. See, sometimes, when I go shopping, I quite pathetically realize I forgot to wear shoes that would be easy to kick off -- ergo, in the sweet, warm cocoon of a store's dressing room, I will often decide I'm too lazy to bother removing my shoes and jeans unless the dress fits my top half and appears to be worth a proper look.

However, and this is important, I will never actually exit the dressing room that way.

And while stage actress Lauren Pritchard was correct to assume this dress didn't merit a proper pantsless look, she presumably only did so because she fell into that other trap: thinking it worked just fine as a shirt because it matched her Vans.

I think we've officially reached the phase where these things should come with warning labels. We are at DressCon 1.

Random Fug (Or Not)

Because what's a party without a dude in a corset top?

* Since neither of us watch So You Think You Can Dance, largely because we don't care if they think they can dance, we didn't realize this guy may apparently be Brian Friedman, a judge on the show. Friedman is also reportedly one of Britney's old choreographers. So, maybe he's wearing one of her old clothes as a tribute to her former glory -- the campy equivalent of pouring some out for your homies.

** Seriously? A corset top?

***  Didn't he used to have more hair?

**** No, really. I know this guy choreographed "Slave 4 U," which is awesome, as well as "Toxic," which is, parenthetically, the best cell phone ring tone for an ex EVER, in case you needed one, but just...don't on the man-corsetry.

 

Random Fug

If you, like Laura Sanchez here, are a model who uses her big moment in front of the photo pit to stand hunched over with your hands over your crotch, then consider the possibility that your dress is way, way too short.

Or, in Chicken Soup For The Fugger's Soul terms: Remember, a photographer's lens is not a speculum.

Cannes Random Fug, Part Infinity

Apparently, it was Crazy Tribute Week at Cannes this year. First we had the woman who swaddled her sex organs in the festival logo, and now we get a girl who is trying to out-Bai Ling Bai Ling by wearing a dress made entirely of film.

And when I say "dress" I mean "bathing suit with strips of film glued to it." All I can think of when I look at this is, she is in big trouble if she walks past an aggressive air vent, or an oscillating fan, or a dude with a vacuum cleaner. Or a dog. Or an industrial-strength hair dryer, or a jet engine, or one of those Segways. Or, indeed, any other people. In fact, she might be better off not walking at all.

poll by twiigs.com

Random Fug

What with all the online ragging on Sarah Jessica Parker's new cheapie clothing line, she must have been in a real panic when Loveleigh of the Misshapes showed up to her Bitten party wearing this:

I'm sure the last thing SJP wanted was for people to think she was pimping giant oversized... well, they're not really overalls, and they're not suspenders, so I'm not sure what to call it exactly. It's almost cut like a gigantic vest over bermuda shorts. Or culottes. Formal culottes. What demented madman is threatening to unleash FORMAL CULOTTES on us? It's possible Carrie Bradshaw would have worn this if Patricia Field had the chance. She is, after all, the batty crone who brought us those enormous flower decals; I wouldn't put it past her to unleash this kind of foul thunder.

The whole thing just looks like a romper you'd see on a badly dressed giant baby -- meaning not merely a big wuss, but the actual fruit of Gigantor the Aptly Named's loins. So if you are Loveleigh of the Misshapes (incidentally, also aptly named) people are just going to roll their eyes and go back to speculating on whether SJP has ever had plastic surgery. Because, I mean, we all love Mary Stuart Masterson from Some Kind of Wonderful, and we're thrilled she looked good wearing Eric Stoltz's future. But that doesn't mean we need to resurrect the kind of masculine '80s-wear she would have donned to chauffeur him and Amanda Jones around town.

Random Fug

I'm sure the Cannes Film Festival is very excited to be celebrating what its Web site refers to as "the symbolic date" of its 60th anniversary.

The organizers might be slightly less excited that this woman has chosen to commemorate the occasion by putting their logo on a bed sheet and turning it into the kind of beachwear you'd expect to see at a fraternity's spring-break Wet Toga contest. Although for all I know, they're completely stoked that she wanted to wrap her privates in some free advertising.

Perhaps I should be finding this inspirational. Perhaps I should be stamping onto my linens some stills from the Dynasty credits, or the little TiVo creature, or a picture of a Big Mac value meal, or pictures of Jennifer Garner's Alias wigs, then wrap myself in them and run around town generously promoting Things I Love. I might even get a wig (!!) or a Big Mac out of it. That's WAY better than the movie passes she probably got. I mean, you can't eat -- or go incognito in -- those.

Cannes Random Fug: Elena Lenina

Elena Lenina here has appeared in a number of French-language films, according to our good friends at the IMDb. One of them is called Il Etait Une Fois Jean-Sebastien Bach (translated: Something Something Something, Johann Sebastian Bach) which I at first misread as being called Il Etait Une Fois Sebastien Bach, and thought to myself, "there's a movie about SEBASTIAN BACH, former lead singer of Skid Row? WHERE HAVE I BEEN?"

And actually, I feel like this dress would not be out of place in Skid Row biopic:

Or, for that matter, in a movie about a woman who could put her head on backwards.

Fugget Street-Porter

Janet Street-Porter is a rather well-known British journalist and TV personality who, like just about everyone else who's achieved a modicum of recognition over there, has also participated in many reality shows -- most awesomely, one by the name of Call Me A Cabbie. At first I was hoping this was a high-stakes contest in which you have to call people some taxis -- possibly while some toothless, grizzled dispatcher cracks a whip against your leg and screams, "WHAT'S THE HOLDUP? IS YOUR DIALING FINGER HURTING? [crack] DON'T YOU DARE USE SPEED DIAL, YOU LAZY GIT!" -- but in fact, the program was just about her and two other people undergoing tests and timed challenges in order to see if they could ever become a cab driver in London.

Perhaps she should have stuck with that profession; the makeshift uniform might have prevented this.

She looks like an impatient extra on the set of ZAP!, a steamy straight-to-video flick about aliens who come to Earth to plunder our natural resources and our supply of Pringles, only to discover that beach parties are way more fun on our planet. We're pretty sure Bai Ling and the Peldons would be in it.

Cannes Random Fugs: Presented By Bai Ling

BAI LING: I know, darlings. Despite the fact that my right nipple might be peeking out to say hello, I look surprisingly demure. Why? Why would my many personalities confab and decide to go lo-pro? Because look around you, darlings, it's Cannes. Everyone's tit is hanging out. I'm like Princess Diana floating in a sea of Jordans around here. Look at this young lady:

SNORE. I wore that to my 8th grade graduation.

YAWN. White catsuits with illusion nettings are so Plant Zarcon 2031. I already wore this in the future, you fools.

And speaking of fools:

When you're attending a party at which Ivana Trump mauls Crockett/Tubbs, the only way to get noticed at all is to tuck your goodies away and put on your Mysterious Face (Face Number 7, for those of you with my book, Bai Ling's Guide To Mysterious Faces).  I learned that from Tara Reid.

Random Fug

English TV presenter Melinda Messenger probably thought her dress was a marvelous ode to a Grecian goddess.

I prefer to call it, "Static Cling: The Silent Killer." But on the up side, those dryer-sheet endorsement deals should come rolling in pretty quickly.

Still Somewhat Random Fug: Jenny McShane

* Apologies if you're reading this for a second time; for a string of really stupid reasons, we can't figure out if this posted yesterday and then disappeared due to a technical burp, or just never went up at all because one of us -- okay, me -- never has any idea what the date is. It's a boring story, all this drama about whats-her-face down there, but the net effect is that we're posting it now just in case by accident nobody ever saw it earlier. So here you go: Either a fug, or a fug redux, which is like acid reflux, only with less burning and fewer attendant drugs.

---

This isn't the first time we've featured actress Jenny McShane, of the hit films Furnace and of course Tales of the Kama Sutra 2: Monsoon.

But it is the first time we've featured this much of her.

[Source: Daily Celeb.]

I'm thrilled that she's happy with her underwear. Seriously. Every girl knows the satisfaction of wearing a really comfortable pair that also makes them feel fabulous. Congrats, Jenny. But the producers of the Egyptian-themed soft-core porn epic Attack Of The Sphinxter might be really upset to find out that you raided their costume racks without asking. It's just not nice.

It also doesn't seem like the most apt attire for the event she's actually at: The 2nd Annual Sober Day Convention. Of course, the organizers of this ode to clean living did make the unintentionally amusing and slightly unfortunate move of inviting two girls whose names happen to be Caroline Bacardi and Candice Coke. True story. So maybe they didn't even notice Jenny's nipples.

Random Fug Carpet: Katherine Jenkins

Katherine Jenkins is some sort of opera singer. I say "some sort," because I'm unsure what opera contains an Italian version of Bryan Adams' "(Everything I Do) I Do It For You," and yet the clumsy strains of that rendition greeted me when I Googled her and got to her Web site. Although I will say this: The song being in a foreign language does a lot for it, because it distracts from how idiotic the lyrics are. If only somebody would translate "Have You Ever Really, Really Really SERIOUSLY Really For Reals Totally Really Really Loved A Woman" into Italian, maybe it would no longer make me want to go on a killing spree.

However, none of the above has distracted me from Katherine Jenkins' jumpsuit. Or pantsuit. I go back and forth. One piece, two pieces... it doesn't matter; it's fugly whichever way you stitch it.

This is really violating Bryan's glorious, sacred message of loyalty. It "Cuts Like A Knife," if you will. Clearly, (everything she does) she is NOT doing for me, or you, or anyone else; were that honestly the case, she would return this thing to Chico's Cache of Cocktail Pajamas -- assuming she didn't outright steal them from Joan Collins' trunk marked, "Dynasty: 1982: Clothes For Romancing Dex Dexter" -- and put herself in something slightly more flattering.

Then perhaps she can trill her way back into our hearts with a spectacular aria interpretation of B.Ad's "Please Forgive Me." I'm not saying this shameless attempt to curry favor would work, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't want it to spark a magical mystery tour through his discography that goes straight through an operatic "(I Wanna Be) Your Underwear" and lands squarely at a touching foreign-language "Summer of '69." I hope she refuses to rest until she's reimagined every last one of hits -- especially the ones off that 1991 album that has no fewer than 9 songs with titles of six words or more.

He is a delight. I don't know how this became about him, but apparently all roads lead to Bryan Adams, master of the parenthetical and court jester of the written word. Bless him.

Random Fug: Raquel Lee

If they remade Sondheim's ode to pointilism Sunday In The Park With George as a teen romp, this girl would totally be one of the main characters. As it is, she and her hugely bright rainbow tutu-dress are mostly just making me hungry for sandwiches and potato salad eaten from a really cute basket on a sunny day. While wearing huge sunglasses. And possibly with a champagne-and-strawberries chaser.

poll by twiigs.com

Random Fug: Lucy Walsh

Anatomy of a Random Fug.

Step One: Find photo of random walking red carpet in something questionable:

Step Two: Hit Google, Wikipedia and the like to find out who we're dealing with. This particular subject is identified by our photo source as "singer." Must make sure she's not actually some semi-famous New York bad-ass punk who always dresses like this, thus saving myself several emails informing me that she's, you know, a bad-ass punk who always dresses like this OH MY GOD HOW DID YOU NOT KNOW THAT? Etc.

Step Three: Discover a distinct lack of information on our subject. Her official site has no "news," no "bio," and no "discography" information.  I don't know who she is, but her people seem to be falling down on the job.

Step Four: Google informs me that she has attended events with Britney and Andy Dick... and that she used to play keyboard Ashlee Simpson's  "band." So... probably not an awesome underground rocker known primarily for eschewing conventional standards of dress, often via leggings that appear to have done hard time wrapped around the brake pads of a cross-town bus, right? PS: I might own Ashlee's first album, so I'm not judging.

Step Five: Reassured that I'm not accidentally mocking someone who's devoted her whole life to the avant garde or who is ACTUALLY seriously blind, I feel totally free to point out that she's literally wearing my gym shorts from high school.

Step Six: Hit "publish."

Random Fug: Erin McNaught

This young lady was, according to Google, Miss Australia 2006.

Her talent was cardio-funk, and boy, is she proud of it.

Random Fug

Actress Dominika Wolski is cute in a way that suggests that she probably regularly finds herself competing with Dominique Swain for roles and is probably often mistaken for her thanks to the similarity in names, as well. I'm sure she's tired of having to explain that, NO, she wasn't in Lolita and she's really not sure how to address your rude line of questioning about her post-Lolita career or lack thereof, because she's a totally different actress but she'd also like to know what the deal is with Swain, so maybe she can stop having to deal with her.

Or maybe there's a more sinister explanation. Maybe Wolski is slowly -- so slowly! -- taking over Swain's identity -- you know, mostly so she can get into parties. It would explain the sort of awkward flowered frock and moderately mismatched boots:

As well as all the posing in front of Dominique Cohen's logo. It's all Dominika/Dominique/Dominique up in here, and I must confess, it is turning even my head. Who is who? What is where? How is "Dominique" even a word, with all those vowels? Did this outfit used to belong to an underage florally-fixated cheerleader named Florita? Where did I leave my pants? I can't unravel this kind of tangled mystery so early on a Monday.

Random Fug

Sometimes things are so crazy that they stop being crazy and swing all the way around to being SPECTACULAR. Like the outfit on (the extremely pretty) Miss Poland, Marzena Cieslik, here pictured at the Grand Prix Ball in Melbourne. I do not know why Miss Poland is kicking it in Australia, but I guess that it probably has something to do with the weather.  Anyway, this dress takes Pageant Fashion and kicks it up to the proverbial 11:

Tulle! Sequins! Illusion netting! Contrasting colored boobs! AWESOME. This is so over the top that I must embrace it. It reminds me of one of my favorite scandals from my past: when I was in high school, we had a Latin teacher who was sort of quirky and interesting, but in a very... sort of scholastic-seeming way. Well, I guess she had some kind of crisis, because she left the school under a cloud of mystery, but not before donating a huge box of clothing to the school's drama department, which I was involved in (I know, big surprise, right?). In the box were several elaborate beaded, ruffled, neon gowns, all of which were cut to the navel. We later learned that Lady Latin had been a nationally ranked ballroom dancer until she had been BANNED FOR LIFE from the National Ballroom Dancing Association -- or whatever the national ballroom dancing association is called -- for behavior not befitting a ballroom dancer. The rumor, which was naturally immediately accepted as truth, was that she had been caught in a particularly shocking and perverse orgy, corrupting her fellow dancers, probably so as to throw them off their dance-game, but my guess from the adult perspective is that maybe none of this actually happened and she just decided she was tired of nude t-strap sandals and high school girls and quit ballroom dancing and teaching, in that order, and ran off to somewhere more interesting to do something else.  But I'm still pretty sure that Miss Poland's night is going to tragically end in her being banned from Miss Universe for doing something inappropriate that this ballroom-dance-inspired gown forced her to do.

Random Fug: Veronica Maccarone

See? THIS is the sort of thing we wish American starlets would go back to wearing:

You know, to give us something to talk about.

Her boobs! They're in jail! What heinous crimes could her boobs have committed? Arson? Espionage? Extortion? Conspiracy to commit murder? Assault and battery? We must KNOW. Have they been committed for life, or is there a possibility of parole? Might she let them out for good behavior? Or are they going to end up in the hole? So many questions!  At least they have each other, as they waste away behind bars.

Random Fug

Welcome to Cipes.

Cipes is apparently a "spiritual surfer" of some sort. He's out on the town because he's part of the cast of TwentyFourSeven, a reality-based version of Entourage that MTV is giving us for Christmas. It's worth noting that the starring gang, in almost every photo from the premiere party, poses together either with rampant finger-guns, peace signs, or those ultra-hip upside-down peace signs -- the latter two usually accompanied by that special brand of man-hugging wherein arms are slung around necks, or some embracing that is half-hug, half-chest punch. It's sort of gloriously terrible.

But, back to our boy: Cipes' biggest problem will not be getting hit by a stray finger-gun bullet. No, the greatest threat to his budding career as a hanger-on will be lawsuits filed by Giovanni Ribisi and his people, all seeking compensation for the mistaken-identity disasters that will surely lead to well-intentioned sightings e-mailed to Defamer and Gawker that say: "Just saw Giovanni Ribisi waiting for his car at the valet; he appeared to be wearing old pajama pants and slippers with some sort of tunic under his coat. So sad to see that he's so completely lost his mind that he no longer bothers to get dressed; guess those Friends residuals can't buy a guy some real pants."

Be warned, Cipes.

Random Fug: Keisha Buchanan

Okay, so this fug significantly less random to our friends in the glorious U.K., as Ms. Buchanan fronts a band over there called Sugababes, and is notorious within that collection of fine young ladies for being the only founding member still sticking with the group.

Which may or may not be a good idea, considering that one of the duties incumbent upon carrying the glorious title of "Sugababe" is showing up in public wearing tragic and problematic trousers.

She's looking down, all, "Daaaaamn, were these armpit-rise when I bought them?" These square waist-eaters make Mom jeans look positively trampy, like they've been out all night until a sleazy 11 p.m., sitting in a parked car with a boy inhaling second-hand smoke and sharing a bottle of soda without using a second straw. In fact, it's entirely possible Keisha's jeans are actually Chastity Capris, with the buttons doubling as a complex combination lock for added security. Tragically for Keisha, nowhere on the note subtly taped to the floor does it say, "Step 4: Run, Keisha. RUN, FOR THE LOVE OF PANTS, RUN!"

Of course, there is hope. If she sticks with it, the sisters Peldon have a scent custom-made for the likes of her. [You must forgive us our renewed obsession with these "actresses" and junior entrepreneurs, but since they've been with us here since the beginning, well, we're far too delighted by this turn of events in their lives to look away now.] Concocted by Brown and with the prose description winningly written by our favorite cherubic blonde mascot -- whom I saw with her sister and mother out in the wild on Saturday night! At the movies! Imagine! -- the perfume is called The Pop Star, and Courtney makes it come alive for us thusly: "In between musical acts she snacks a white chocolate chunk shortbread cookie nut cookie with macademia nut pieces, cookie crumbles, and a kiss of vanilla bean frosting!"

If that doesn't say "Sugababe," I don't know what does. So if Keisha can't escape the prison of these trousers, at lease she can smell like she sleeps on a dessert cart.

Random Fug: Lourdes Benedicto

Dear Ms. Benedicto:

We are sorry to hear that you were killed off The Nine in its premiere episode and that you've been reduced to appearing in flashbacks; we're sorrier still to recall your stint on Dawson's Creek. Yes, we saw you. Don't mess with Pacey Witter, okay? That's your life lesson for today. Step away from Josh Jackson.

As delighted as we were to see that you "starred" in the soapy midemeanor Titans, we regret to inform you that at this time, we cannot get behind your latest pitch because nobody is looking to remake Robin Hood. Although we cherish your take that Robin is a Pat-like gender-bending female character who turns England on its ear by redefining just what exactly "Sherwood Forest" means, we suspect that nobody is terribly interested in seeing anyone -- male or female -- parade around in ill-fitting capri pants and pixie boots. But we appreciate your interest in the genre, and recommend that you consider seeking work at Medieval Times, or other such historically relevant places of employ.

Best of luck!

Sincerely,

Les Moonves

P.S. However, if you have a pitch for C.S.I.: Nottingham, please let us know, as we're always looking for ways to make forensics fresh and perhaps the olden days are the way to go. Call now and we won't kill you off in episode three!

Random Fug: Soraya Moraes

Congratulations to gospel singer Soyara Moraes, winner of a silver medal in "Conceptual Fug: How to Abuse and Besmirch The Almighty Dust Ruffle."

We would show you the winner, but the poor sap was knocked on her derriere when an overenthusiastic event staffer tried to vacuum up under her, and the subsequent head injury sent her to the hospital. Fortunately, we know Soraya here can undertake all the necessary chores usually handed to the title holder, which include but aren't limited to allowing for the temporary storage up under her garment of dusty and unused abdominal exercise equipment, sex toys, and bills we don't want our parents to find right away if we die in an untimely accident.

Random Fug: Our Future Employees

Sometimes I think of the celebrity world as a carnival of fug. And then I start to daydream about starting a real Fug Carnival -- we'd hire somebody like Scarlett Johansson to run a roller-coaster ride evocative of her own up and down relationship with clothes; Jessica and Assica Simpson and their incredibly changing body shapes/faces would of course man the Fun House and all its manipulative mirrors; Fergie would run around as the bearded lady; Paris Hilton would be at the kissing booth, where you get a free antibiotic with each slip of the tongue; and we'd force K-Fed and Britney to sit in the dunk tank because that's the only way to guarantee that they get a real bath.

And then, I found this photo that inspired me to add a scary "It's A Fug World After All" ride -- even more terrifying than the original -- wherein you sail through a little waterway (made of vodka) and creepy dolls sing at you from the land on either side, telling you all about what's awful in celebrity fashion.

These are those dolls.

Imagine it: These two ladies in their frightening outfits, surrounded by a passel of crazy dolls and celebrity lookalikes waving spookily at you underneath some flags adorned with the faces of, say, people like Tina Knowles and Rachel Zoe, while all sing...

It's a world of leggings
A world of Crocs
It's a world of Bai Ling
And pants with frocks.
There's so much to abhor
Every day, there is more
It's a fug world after all.

It's going to be marvelous. Apparently, one of these ladies is Esperanza Aguierre, who is -- if my Spanish hasn't failed me -- potentially the President of Madrid (who knew? I'm very much looking forward to hiring her), and the other is Agatha Ruiz de la Prada, who designs children's clothes. Judging by her garb, regardless of which one she is, they are the kind of children's clothes where you would look at a young girl in them and smile in affectionate amusement to yourself, thinking, "Aw, somebody was allowed to dress herself today..." It's perfect for our menagerie of creepy dolls.

Oh, and, yes, the boats will come with ladles and glasses so you can partake in the vodka river. Trust me, you'll need it.

Random Fug: Sky Nellor

This shirt/dress -- Shress? Drirt? --  reminds me of the last few times I've been shopping, wandering through the racks trying in vain to figure out whether half of what's hanging there is meant to be a dress or a shirt. This happens a lot lately, and it's frustrating, because 90 percent of the time the answer is, "That's a shirt," and I have to put it down and walk away because it's too long to look flattering with jeans yet too short to be worn as a frock, for fear of wearing it in public and completely losing my mystery.

Sky Nellor has no such qualms, though, apparently figuring that a pair of fishnets ably doubles as a genital cover. Perhaps she needs some girlfriends to shop with her and provide a much-needed reality-check, in the vein of, "Tights are not pants," or, "Who do you think you are? Bebe Neuwirth?" And especially that old classic piece of advice, "If somebody sneezes too strongly, the world will see what your groin looks like when it's squished like sausage meat into its stretchy prison, and that's never pretty, so for the love of God, FIND A BETTER CONTAINER FOR YOUR LADYBITS before you forget yourself and break into a kick-line that splays open the cotton crotch." That one's as old as the hills -- Chicken Soup for the Fugging Soul.

Random Fug

Note to all you starlets out there -- like this one, at the premiere of that movie where somehow Robin Williams ends up as President of the United States, like, I really would move to Canada if that happened -- if it's cold enough for you to be huddling under a full-on coat, WEAR SOME GODDAMN PANTS:

You look like you left your skirt at some dude's house, and decided to go out for the evening wearing his boxers. You also look COLD. It's OCTOBER.  What is wrong with PANTS? Have pants WRONGED YOU SOMEHOW? Please LOOK INTO PANTS.

Random Fug: Sandi Thom

Sandi Thom is a Scottish singer whose single, "I Wish I Was A Punk Rocker," is starting to make its way over here so that she can take the U.S. by storm, or somesuch.

But her more immediate goal appears to be opening a punk club in Neverland.

Random Fug: Courtney Marit

I don't know why this woman is holding an Emmy.

.

Her only credit, as far as the all-seeing eye of IMDb can tell me, is that she was on Survivor. And that didn't win. But more importantly, why is she at the HBO Emmy party wearing a harness and a dirty wedding dress?

Maybe she's pitching a new show to the network. Maybe it's called 'Til Death Do Us Art, about a morbid performance artist who agreed to marry her fiance while bungee jumping, and then decided that she didn't have any interest in yoking herself legally to a jackhole who wanted to get married in a wet suit while swinging under a bridge. So she runs -- through a wood, and I suspect a barn -- and vows never to remove her dress, so that others might see her as a living work of art denouncing hasty commitments. And jackholes. And harnesses. Billed as the anti-Big Love, it will feature her trying to convince people not to get married. Courtney Love will ultimately star, of course, since this getup is basically inspired by Hole's first hit album. And Scott Bakula will make his triumphant return to television as the dry cleaner who follows her around begging her to please WASH that damn thing before it starts to smell. Her old art-school T.A. whom she saves from a wrong-headed wedding to a socialite before falling in love with him herself? Why, Bill Pullman, of course.

Can't wait. But I don't know that wearing your pitch to a post-awards party is the best way to get it greenlit.

Random Fug: Leven Rambin

Leven Rambin plays an autistic teen on All My Children, and she's really, really natural and good at it -- assuming you can get past the new herky-jerky camerawork and watch long enough to notice, and also not vomit from motion-sickness.

At any rate, she's very charming on the show, and her performance and the whole fresh-faced youthful glow of it all inspires a maternal protectiveness in me, which is why I yelped when I saw this photo.

I want to scream at her, "Leven [Middle Name Here So She Knows I Am Seriously Angry] Rambin! You are SIXTEEN YEARS OLD, young lady! You have no need to be naked! Get back upstairs and put on a shirt that's more substantial than a spandex waistband and two flaps of suspiciously stiff-looking satin! You are not Paris Hilton and you DEFINITELY are not some disco singer from the 1970s on her way to Studio 54, and you have SERIOUSLY spectacular skin! Which is neiher here nor there but I'm VERY, VERY UPSET, and stuff just pours out of my mouth when I'm upset and your nail polish is really cute! There, I said it! NOW GO CHANGE BEFORE A BUNCH OF GRUBBY-FINGERED BOYS FIGURE OUT HOW HOT YOU ARE OH MY GOD I AM PUTTING YOU IN A CONVENT TOMORROW AND THEY CAN BUS YOU TO THE STUDIO."

But it's just out of affection. I bellow because I love, Leven.

Random Fug

Emma Griffiths, the host of Total Request Live in the UK, presents reason #947 not to sell your soul to the devil:

He won't stop at sucking the life out of your eyes, nor will he be satisfied by merely condemning you to a life in the ghoulish spandex prison known as "leggings." No, Satan is fully prepared to do all of the above while also forcing you to wear a misshapen tube dress in an unforgiving wrinkle-prone satin, forcing you to spend an entire evening looking like a wince-worthy walking wrinkle and prompting your grandmother to send you a portable steamer for your next birthday, along with a note that reads, "You're usually such a pretty girl."

So. Midlife Satanism: Don't do it.

Random Fug: Kiersten Warren

Kiersten Warren was highly unamused by the photographer's assertion that although the movie being premiered is Invincible, her fashion sense certainly isn't.

Indeed, this red eyesore actually makes us hanker a bit for the flip-flopped version we saw -- and didn't love -- ages ago. This reversed color scheme actually manages to make the other look almost understated. We're also really curious about whether it's uncomfortable to wear shoes whose soles are too narrow to house all five toes, but maybe we'll wait to ask her about it until her expression no longer brims with contempt.

Random Fug: Fugya Pinkins

This outfit is proof that when they decide to make That's So Raven: Misadventures in Menopause, Tonya Pinkins will be a lock for the part.

Until then, though, she might want to leave the hideous lumpy brown sundress and croc corset at Forever 21 and Bill's Pleather Palace, where they belong.