Fug Quiz: Busey or Nolte?

Many moons ago, back when Britney washed her hair and we didn't know what a Kim Kardashian was, we amused ourselves with a little game called "Busey or Nolte?" It involved distinguishing between Gary Busey and Nick Nolte in photographs -- which wasn't always that hard, but certainly used to be much tougher. Time and plastic surgery have torn them apart like Shakespearian lovers.  Also, I'm pretty sure the game is up forever because there is no way Nick Nolte is going to berate Ryan Seacrest at the Oscars and then try and chug a pint of Jennifer Garner's blood. 

But the spirit of celebrity doppelgangers remains, born for us in them but living on in others. Today, we're honoring its manifestation in two slouchy, sloppy blondes with crappy taste in men. I present: Miller or Moss?

Waif-watchers in the UK know that Kate Moss and Sienna Miller inhabit a similar style, which some might suggest -- and have suggested -- Sienna cribbed off the Queen of Heroin-Chic. Why anyone would WANT to do that is beyond me, but honestly, I'm okay with living in a world where I don't understand what's going through Sienna Miller's head. I don't need to be haunted with dreams in which I am ENJOYING Rhys Ifans dancing naked in my living room with a shoebox on his head, or whatever it is that he does when they're together.

If you are stumped on whether that's Bedhead 2.0 or Original Flavor, this might help -- as it happens, both Miller AND Moss were in attendance at this party, and here they are pictured together:

Does that help? Which one do you imagine would shove her hands in the pockets of her wrinkled shorts and appraise the other with a smirk on her face, while the other laughs it off and tries to pretend they're The Best Of Friends and that it's just a COINCIDENCE that they have the same hair and highlights?

Aha, yes, you got it: Sienna on the left, Kate on the right. And hairdresser James Brown in the middle, but that doesn't matter, because he's probably way too well-adjusted and hygienic to belong to either woman.

This does at least answer my question about whether Kate and her clone coming into contact would somehow rip a wormhole into the fabric of the universe. So far I think we're safe, and a swarm of locusts is not about to alight on The Ivy, although I'm withholding judgment on whether anything is awry until Sienna's next movie comes out. Whatever it is, if anyone actually likes it, we might be through the looking glass.

Twentyfug Twelve

In a round-table discussion between Fey New York Theater Critics that we saw on a local channel, we learned that Claire Danes is reportedly playing Eliza Doolittle in a revival of Pygmalion.

What nobody mentioned is that Sienna Miller will be co-starring as her boozy, disastrous father Alfred P. Doolittle. Clearly, she's been rehearsing nonstop. Now that's a work ethic.

Fug the Cover: Sienna Miller

Oh, Vogue. Why you gotta play me like this?

I'm not even going to mention the Giant Heavy Brows -- which aren't at all flattering to her, although I personally think a heavier brow is often nicer than a too-thin Kelly Taylor Circa I Choose Me brow. So it's not like I am leading some kind of Anti-Brow Brigade, I just think that what looks good on some faces looks positively Crayola on this one -- or the ridiculous fact that EVERY SINGLE HEADLINE is alliterative ("Fashion's Feistiest Icon" and "Perfect Political Partner" and "Fearless Fashion" AND "Magician of Makeup"? Was there no room for "Piles of Positively Peerless Pants" or "Scads of Seriously Sexy Skirts" or "My Mailman Refuses to Deliver This Because It Weighs More Than Some Babies"? Wait, that last one doesn't have any alliteration. My bad). Or the fact that she's dressed like an ostrich. I mean, it's Vogue. Someone has to be dressed like a bird or Anna won't let them go to press. But what I primarily take issue with here is her terrible, terrible, terrible hair. This is what my hair looks like when I get back from the gym (we're pretending that I go to the gym this week). This is what my hair looks like when I'm trying that thing you do where you give up shampoo in the hopes that your hair "gets used to" being washed less often and you only have to wash it like once a month and it's still all full and shiny (this usually lasts approximately three days before my hair starts looking like...this. And then I wash it). I find it very hard to believe that Vogue couldn't do a more flattering up-do. Something a bit less Shit My Poli Sci Paper Is Due Tomorrow And I Haven't Even Started It and something a bit more I'm The Best God Damn Dancer In the American Ballet Theatre! Who The Hell Are You?

I mean, Vogue IS supposed to be aspirational, right?

Fugenna Miller

Say what you will about Sienna Miller's taste in clothes; she's still a really cute girl. In fact, her face is usually the thing that works about what she's wearing -- as in, "Why is such a pretty girl wearing a moldy old tarp that's probably caked in refuse?"

Ergo, it's distressing to see that for her trip to Rome, she chose to hire a box of crayons to do her makeup.

I know that for a big event honoring Valentino's life's work, she is probably required to wear something by Valentino. But frankly, Penelope Cruz at this year's Oscars kind of ruined me on dresses with dramatic feathery skirts. Hers was elegant and fanciful; by comparison, this one looks like somebody stole a red spandex number from the closet of one of my grade 9 classmates and finished the skirt by sewing on the skin of 100 Tickle Me Elmo dolls. Eye-catching, yes, but also potentially disturbing to small children.

But generally, I'm not looking at the dress, because I'm trying so hard to decide which of Crayola's many glorious brown shades -- Raw Sienna? Chestnut? Antique Brass? Or plain old Brown? -- she decided to use as her eyebrow pencil. It's a tad overwhelming. She just doesn't quite look like herself, as if this is her overly shiny and apple-cheeked wax replica, posed awkwardly as if she's ushering tourists into Madame Tussaud's Hall of Questionable Talent.

The Mysteries of Fug

First of all, I really, really hope that Sienna Miller and Dennis Hopper are dating, just because I think it would make a good story, although I suspect his wife wouldn't agree with me:

Second of all: Dear Sienna, that Fastening Your Shoes Over Your Trousers Thing is never going to catch on. You've been trying it for years, and I simply can't believe it's because you think it looks so rad.  Third of all: while your septuagenarian date looks casual but sharp, and certainly appropriate for this particular event (the concert Princes Harry and Wills threw in honor of their mother's 46th birthday and 10th anniversary of her death, with proceeds going to her pet charities) you look like you're running late for your shift at a local vegan food cooperative. Isn't there supposed to be a "My Name Is: SIENNA" tag on that vest?

On the other hand, I suppose it's better than this:

Which is rather like saying that scrubbing your mouth out with soap is marginally better than rinsing it out with bleach.

Factory Fug

You know, usually I'd be all, "I like that dress better when Carrie Bradshaw wore it on the side of a bus," and "Leggings? THEY'RE SO OVER" about this:

But honestly, I totally don't even care anymore.  Wear whatever you want, Sienna:  Wear leggings with formal shorts and Uggs, covered in a dress over jeans with your boob hanging out. I'm bored of you now.

BAFTA Awards Fug Carpet: Sienna Miller

When she finds a genre, Sienna Miller really goes for it. First it was boho, and now it's octagenarian: she went from granny panties to Granny's sofa.

Hey, give the girl a hand -- at least she's committed.

Fugtory Girl

Inside a Factory Girl party, Anna Wintour is caught out without her signature huge dark sunglasses, and remembers too late that half the reason she needs them is because she has no poker face.

SIENNA: Oh, bollocks, look at THAT, it's Anna Wintour! Editor of Vogue! Isn't it amazing that we're both here together -- a total fashion icon on one side, and Anna Wintour on the other!

ANNA: ...

SIENNA: Look, Anna babe, I've got this fab idea for your cover. It's gonna be me, right? Wearing THIS: a fuzzy sweater and nothing but tights as pants. It'll be, like, neanderthal lady meets Shakespeare. But with some serious control top.

ANNA: ...

SIENNA: Of course I don't need control top, Anna! It just keeps my bits warm for whoever gets them later. Between you and me, I'm thinking maybe the Harry Potter lads. Several of them, actually.

ANNA: ...

SIENNA: Anyway, your cover with me is going to make everyone talk, you know, because EVERYONE will be wearing this soon enough and I'm offering YOU the chance to be at the front of the line.

ANNA: ...

SIENNA: By the way, I really like your coat, can I borrow it? I'd like to cut it up into one of these shirts, and then maybe make a pair of furry trousers out of it that I can wear once everyone ELSE is wearing control-top tights-pants, and I suddenly become incredibly bored with them.

ANNA: ...

SIENNA: Come on, Winty, give us something more than just a robotic smile. Are you thinking about how to express how avant-garde I am? Or are you just speechlessly pleased to find someone who understands fashion even more than you do? Or do you want to have a go at my tights-pants? Come on, let's hit the Ladies, you can slip them on.

ANNA: ... Repulsive. Repulsive. You are an utterly ridiculous girl.

SIENNA: Er... uh, what? Sorry, can't hear you, babe! Too loud in here. Anyway, must dash. I see a camera over there that I haven't hit up yet. Kiss kiss!

ANNA: Somebody fire her. Immediately.

Well Played: ...FINE. Sienna Miller

Well, they say that even a stopped clock is right twice a day. And so it has come to pass that I have stumbled upon a photograph of Sienna Miller at Sundance and thought, "Heavens, I quite like her coat."

Is it possible that, beneath her coat, she's wearing a torn and saggy promotional tee shirt from Discover Card, belted with a vine? Yes. But right here, she looks pretty cute. It's kind of a relief to see her so toned down -- no crazy hat, no hot pants. It's very simple (almost boring, even, although the cut and color are classic and classy), and it turns out that, without all that crap distracting us, she's actually very pretty.

Also, we're pretty sure that she and Steve Buscemi here are going to be the next big couple. Call them Buscemiller.

Golden Globes Fug Carpet: Sienna Miller

While it pains us to admit that we rather like Sienna Miller's dress -- the bodice looks like it's been painted with the kind of gold leaf used on expensive chocolates, which is actually a compliment, because we have never met an expensive chocolate we didn't adore -- we are really not terribly fond of her sloppy milkmaid-who-just-rolled-in-the-mountain-glen-with-a-randy-goatherd coif. We're all for clandestine trysts, but alpine afterglow isn't perhaps the most ideal red-carpet fashion statement.

Unless she's trying to communicate slyly that if you have something to be milked, her skilled fists can take care of it. If that's the massage -- oops, er, I mean message -- then, well, she'll be the most popular wench at the barn.

Factory Fug

An Evening With Sienna Miller and Cameron Diaz:

We find ourselves at a well-appointed Beverly Hills home, at a dinner hosted by Sienna Miller. Let's listen in:

CAMERON: I know! Don't tell anyone!

SIENNA: Hah! I won't, I promise! I'm just happy I'm not the worst dressed person here! Not by a long shot!

CAMERON: Shut up! Anyone could forget her pants.

SIENNA: We'll just call that a dress, how's that? Although I don't know WHO wears booties with a mini-dress. Even I wouldn't do that. And I'll lace up my sandals on the outside of my jeans! Although I really just did that for attention. It TOTALLY worked.

CAMERON: I don't know why this is such a big deal. It's just a blocky, shapeless tunic that's way too short for me. My legs are good enough for it!

SIENNA: Your legs ARE great. But....never mind.

CAMERON: What? Tell me. I can take it.

SIENNA: Look, what do I know? My suggestion for dealing with a public break-up is stomping around the Village in my bathing suit and smoking furiously. Yours is to dress like a  elementary school student with a Mod-fixation and a need for orthopedic footwear. Maybe it's a generational thing!

CAMERON: Generational? How old do you think I AM?

SIENNA: I dunno. All that make-up, and the new Miss Clairol 'do and your desperate need to show a little leg now that you're single again....45? But a sad 45. Not like an awesome Susan Sarandon 45.

CAMERON: I'M ONLY 34.

SIENNA: Oh. Well. My my, this is awkward, isn't it?

CAMERON: At least my boyfriend didn't --

SIENNA: IF YOU SAY THE WORD 'NANNY,' I WILL RUIN YOU!

CAMERON: YOU CALLED ME DESPERATE!

SIENNA: I CALL 'EM LIKE I SEE 'EM.

CAMERON: AND I SAW YOUR BOYFRIEND SCREW THE NANNY!

The evening degenerates into a brawl. Hair is pulled, orifices are gouged. Ms Miller loses a tooth, although she later finds it under the buffet and puts it in her pocket. "I will string this on a necklace," she says to herself. Ms Diaz leaves shortly thereafter, nursing a black eye and a new, raw, bald spot on the back of her head. She vows to wreck her revenge on Ms Miller as soon as her face heals. And, lo, it will be sweet. Stay tuned.

TwentyFugTwelve

What on earth, we wondered, could Santa have brought Sienna Miller?

She has it all: a robust and loving relationship with the tabloids, a highly questionable, on-again, off-again toxic entanglement with a man currently best known for boinking the help (okay, I guess he's technically, "that guy in The Holiday who boinks the help"), and roughly 3 million pissed off Pittsburghers currently plotting revenge after she wisely referred to their city -- to a reporter, mind you, not her friends -- as "Shittsburgh." She is, in other words, one class act, and what do you give a girl like that for Christmas? Other than media training?

Why, if you said, "her own fashion label," you would be correct, according to Now Magazine, which appears to be the British version of InTouch.  Apparently, Sienna's line will be inspired by: "the poetry of the Beat generation, Patti Smith and the dark and brooding London of Dickens." I'm fairly sure this means that we're going to see a lot of models dressed like orphan boys holding copies of Howl, and if there's one thing a modern woman wants, I think, it's to appear as though she has just escaped from the clutches of Evil Headmaster Wackford Squeers, who beat her more than the rest of the foundlings simply because she kept trying to organize group readings of Naked Lunch.

Fugtory Fug

It's nice to know I'm not the only person who thinks Sienna Miller's reptilian sci-fi reject gold boots are unattractive.

That, or he just heard her come out of the salon thanking her waxer for the Brazilian. But I prefer to think he's with me on the boots.

Sienna Fugger

It's always such a happy moment in a young girl's life when she's finally allowed off her leash for a few minutes.

Keen Fuggie

Sienna Miller, in New York City:

There once was a young English lassie

Who occasionally tried to look classy

But even her basic black

Brought a measure of tack.

The poor girl only ever looked assy.

Met Costume Fug

So, last night was the Met's annual benefit gala, which is always a TREAT for me, because it's basically a shitload of models and socialites, with a sprinkling of selected actresses, dressing to the nines -- no, not even the nines. Like the tens. -- doing the whole W magazine "W Eye" society party thing, which I just find fascinating. And every year, this particular event is a gold mine of fashion, from the utterly sublime to the completely absurd. For example:

Sublime:

Of course, it helps that she's incredibly beautiful to begin with, and this certainly isn't particularly risky. But as we always say here at GFY  HQ: there's nothing wrong with deciding to just look pretty. And, MAN, Thandie Newton is pretty.

Absurd:

Marcia Gay Harden is many things, including "a good actress" and what my grandmother would call, "a handsome woman," but as such, she should not be dressing like a Barbie. Ever.

Sublime:

I suspect some people may disagree with me on this, but -- as in the case of Michelle Williams's Oscar dress -- I love the unusual color choice. I also think the cut is an interesting way to handle satin, which can be sort of unforgiving. It's very Glamourous Nightgown Chic, in a way that I think works beautifully -- it's interesting and unusual, while still being very wearable. It's also alarming how much Michelle Monaghan looks like Katie -- excuse me, KATE -- Holmes.  Do you think she and Thandie Newton chatted about Crazy Tom Cruise over their cocktails? I like to think they exchanged their best tips on avoiding brainwashing.

Alarming:

Um, no. Like, I get that the theme of the ball is "anglomania," but....there's such a thing as being too on point, and of all people, I would think that someone like SJP, who is generally extremely sharp about such things, would know better. There's cleverly referencing something, and then there's ACTUALLY WEARING A COSTUME. And actually, this just reminds me of the episode of Sex and the City where Charlotte and Trey have to gussy themselves up in the MacDougal tartan to go to the Scottish Fling, and Bunny McDougal is very mean to Charlotte about her infertility, and I suspect that wasn't really the point of this get-up. Also, I hate the shoes.

Next! Should be absurd, and would be ridiculous on ANYONE else, but is sublime because the color is amazing and Linda Evangelista -- and probably ONLY Linda Evangelista -- has the charisma (and the height) to carry off all the crazy ruffles. This is what is known as "getting away with anything because you are a motherf'ing supermodel, and there's a reason you didn't get out of bed for under ten grand a day":

She's so fierce, even when she's wearing something that would make a lesser woman look like a toilet paper cozy. I hope Christy Turlington is taking notes, because Linda is WORKING HER OVER right now.

But what is wrong with her?:

Dear Emmy Rossum: YOU'RE NOT FIFTY-FIVE YEARS OLD. The truth is that the dress underneath this matronly bandleader get-up is lovely -- albeit boring in the typical Emmy Rossum Only Wears Virginal White Ralph Lauren way -- but the jacket? Looks like she bought it at the Junior League White Elephant Sale in White Plains, 1993. Try something new, Emmy. Like COLOR.

Sublime:

I'm not a fan of the Huge Seed-Like Bead Necklaces, and I don't like this one particularly, either -- I think this necklace, plus the neckline of the dress, plus her hair, makes her neck look short -- but I covet this dress. The cut, the color, the beading -- fab. FAB. I long for it.

Absurd:

SHUT UP SIENNA.

In all honesty, there is a part of me that loves this -- because it's short and shiny and very Viva Las Vegas, and that's fun. I don't even mind the tights. But I hate her hair, and I hate that she seems to think she's actually Edie Sedgwick, and I hate the way everyone from Teen Vogue to Vogue  Vogue has shoved Sienna Miller in all of our faces for reasons I still can't comprehend. She's just taking what Kate Moss does every day a million times better and sticking a headband on it.  And you know what? I know she's an actress, but I haven't seen a single movie she's ever been in. All she's REALLY known for in the United States is a) banging Jude Law and b) dressing like a fruitcake. Aside from that, she doesn't seem particularly interesting or clever or intriguing. In fact, she doesn't seem like ANYTHING. There's nothing there to aspire to. So why does Vogue think we care about her? Seriously, Anna Wintour, I REALLY WANT TO KNOW WHY YOU PUT HER ON THE COVER THAT TIME. Look up at Linda Evangelista and now look back at Sienna. One of these woman has presence, and IT'S NOT THE ONE DRESSED LIKE A DISCO BALL. Now, I'm certainly not one of those Why Are There Only Actresses On Magazine Covers All The Time, I Long For the Past And Hate These Starlets sort of readers -- I don't mind a beautiful, interesting actress on the cover of Vogue.  But Sienna Miller doesn't fit that description.  And, frankly, I can't believe that someone like Anna Wintour really gives two shits about Sienna Miller to begin with, not to mention the fact that I suspect that if Sienna Miller WORKED for Anna Wintour, Anna "Nuclear" Wintour would destroy her with two well-placed put-downs and then eat her for breakfast and that, my readers, is why I secretly love Anna Wintour. When I was reading her [very poorly written] unauthorized biography-cum-hack job last year, I closed it and decided that I rather felt for poor Anna, who came off, to me, as somewhat misunderstood. She really just wants people to do their damn jobs properly without a lot of whinging.  Anyway, I really feel that there is NO WAY that she could possibly REALLY endorse Sienna Miller, and I WOULD JUST REALLY LIKE TO KNOW WHY EVERY CONDE NAST PUBLICATION IN EXISTENCE IS TRYING TO MAKE US BUY HER AS THE MOST STYLISH STARLET OF THE NEW MILLENNIUM. Seriously. Why, Anna? WHY?

Okay, I feel better now. I've been carrying that around for a while. But I mean it, Sienna. Shut up.

Oscar Fug Parties: Sienna Miller

Okay, now she's just f'ing with us.

Last night, at the Vanity Fair party:

Okay. It's totally shapeless - and I hate what I can see of the shoe -- but she's comfortable, right? Because if there's one night when you should favor comfort over glamour in Los Angeles, it's OSCAR NIGHT, right? Right? Who's with me? Oh, wait.

The night before, at a pre-Oscar party:

Please note, this has the exact same collar as the dress she wore above, which begs the question: are these dresses detachable? Because while we've all loved a detail on an item and tried to duplicate it on other pieces, wearing something this distinctive two nights in a row, on nights when you know you're going to be photographed is just, well, bizarre. Frankly, I can't see the rest of this frock, but if it's short, there could potentially be something somewhat 60s and fetching about it, but this is a look you wear once, and then follow up with something totally structured and fierce so you don't look like you're all obsessed with, like, housedresses.

Two nights before, at the Independent Spirit Awards:

Wait, what was that I said about housedresses? Sweet cracker sandwich, woman. It's called a waist. Find yours.

Fuganova

Cathy Rigby, watch out. There's a new Pan in town.

The boots are fine. I just wish she weren't dressed like she's on her way to jazzercize in Neverland. Maybe she left her pants in Hayden Christensen's motel room during one of her revenge trysts. But since this is Sienna Miller, I'm pretty sure she just thinks spankies and opaque tights count as trousers. BUY SOME PANTS, lady, or join the Renaissance Faire in the role of a dashing pageboy and take your lycra and hot pants way from here. I don't want to start thinking involuntarily about all the camels in Lawrence of Arabia while I'm looking at your photo, because that will remind me how much of that film I have to slog through, and yes, it's good and all, but oh my GOD does it get dull watching people go back and forth through the desert -- and I'm only just through Intermission, which leaves a LOT of time still ahead in which I will keep half an eye on the movie and use the rest of my brain thinking about how bad my allergies would be if I were Peter O'Toole, and how many vats of Visine they probably had to use on-set.

Ahem. So, put it away.

And have you ever noticed that from some angles, like this one, Sienna Miller and Jessica Simpson kind of resemble each other? God, she's flirting even MORE closely with evil.

Casafugna

Aw, Peter Pan is all grown up:

[Photo by Daily Celeb.]

Grown up, and dressing as the "Papa Don't Preach"-era Madonna. At first I was thrilled to see that she left her omnipresent leggings under the bed where they belong, but those trousers aren't much better. I like to think the woman on the right was actually closing her eyes in pain to spare herself the sight of... what? What is that thing? Is it a shirt and pants with a marathon-length rise, or a jumpsuit? I can't even tell. Which probably should have been Sienna's first clue that this hip-widening, breast-ruining monstrosity and its overly cropped pants was a horrible idea (the second clue being the fact that it's a hip-widening, breast-ruining monstrosity with overly cropped pants, and the third being the fact that her mother is sitting at home right now going, "Sienna never did meet an iron she knew how to use").

All of which is a shame, because tabloid scandals -- and the occasional alleged James Bond boffage -- really seem to agree with her skin.

I'm starting to wonder if she's just playing a big joke on mankind, and that she's always hell-bent on wearing something that's fugworthy just to see if some vapid starlet or other clones her next week. I love the idea of Sienna lounging in her bedroom reading Us Weekly -- taking a break from cutting up photos of Jude Law and texting him taunting messages like, "Yeah, he's 007 ... INCHES" -- and cackling gleefully at the first sight of Hilary or Manlie Duff, or Kate Bosworth, aping her last litmus test of Hollywood lunacy.

Or, maybe she just wears stupid things. Whichever.

Fugtory Girl

Every girl has a pair of pants that she just loves. And she wears them all the time. Often, those pants are particularly well-worn jeans, or a really great pair of trousers, or even a trusty set of cargo pants (Jennifer Aniston, I mean you). For Sienna "People felt sorry for me for a while, but now they're sort of starting to think they shouldn't have felt so bad for me after all, seeing as how there are now rumors that I cheated on Jude with both Daniel Craig and Sean Penn and now there's that whole thing about how Leonardo DiCaprio might have left Giselle for me, maybe, and when you think about it, seriously, maybe Jude and I are sort of perfect for each other and should probably just try having some kind of open relationship or something because that would probably work for us since neither of us seems to be predisposed to monogamy and maybe that's okay as long as we have an arrangement and no one throws her engagement ring at anyone while sobbing that she's been betrayed when really she's been betraying people all over town, too, and shouldn't we really be embracing these similarities in our personalities rather than fighting them?" Miller, whose favorite pair of pants are...

...capri-length leggings. Wear them to get the papers, with a bowler! Wear them to parties with a kicky head scarf! Wear them all over town! Pretend it's really great style sense, when really, it's just being TOO LAZY TO CHANGE YOUR PANTS.

Fugtory Girl

Sienna, Sienna, Sienna:

Are those even clothes you're wearing, or is it just a mildewed, rat-gnawed tarp you yanked out of a dumpster? Have you been rooting around through Jude's garbage, scrambling for further evidence of just how popular his wang has been?

Oh, don't give me that look -- if you own a mirror, you had to know this was coming. Sienna, I'm going to level with you: It's important that you stop looking moth-eaten. While that should go without saying, you are sort of a special circumstance, because you seem to enjoy dressing like a rich girl who's pretending to be homeless so that she can Keep It Real. But Sienna, you have to understand: For the first time in your career people actually seem to care about you, as something other than Jude Law's arm candy -- specifically, you are now She Who Has Been Wronged, and that's potent (see also: Kidman, Nicole; Aniston, Jennifer). Your wee little broken heart is going to be glued back together by the public outpouring of love, by a vault up the celeb list that will get you a lot more roles offered, and possibly, by Oprah; if ever there were an upside to a messy public breakup, that's it. So wipe the shocked look off your face, brush your hair out a little, and put on a dress that's actually... a dress.

Midsummer Fug's Dream

Look, I know Sienna Miller is heartbroken and all, but I've been there, and I didn't react to the crushing agony of a failed relationship by putting on a BOWLER, for Christ's sweet sake:

Nor did I tie my jeans shut with what looks like  bailing twine. If I had, my friends would not have allowed me out into the street, but instead would have locked me in my apartment, shoveled first ice cream and then tequila down my gullet, and repeated "he's an asshole, he's an asshole, he's an asshole," until I believed them, or was at least recovered enough to pretend to believe them so that they would let me out of the house, so that I could drive past the asshole's house ten to twelve times a day, not that I ever actually did that or anything.

But poor Sienna clearly has no such friends. In fact, I am concerned that she has no friends at all, and that this bailing twine/bowler thing, instead of being a quirky sartorial homage to, like, both Mr. George W. Banks of the Fidelity Fiduciary Bank and the Home Depot, is actually a tragic, screaming cry for intervention.

I mean, honestly.  A bowler? And twine? Won't someone help this girl?

Keen Fuggie

Here's the thing. I just don't get Sienna Miller. I don't. I know she's supposed to be this Charming Boho Princess, and we're all supposed to admire her and love her and want to emulate her and dress in similarly sloppy boho-ian outfits, complete with, like boots stolen from a sherpa or something, and sure, I know she's boning Jude Law, and good for her, because he's hot, despite the fact that he's been dressing like a shipwrecked maitre d' lately.

But come on:

Are you kidding me? Even the woman behind her is all, "I'm wearing culottes, and I look better than she does." This outfit is not okay.  This outfit is, like, living in a yurt on the outskirts of the Siberia of okay.

Why is everything she's wearing all chopped up? Is this -- perish the thought -- Federline-chic making its way across the pond? Was she watching Chaotic one night and suddenly thought to herself, "damn, those manpris are HOT. I suddenly feel the need to saw the hems off everything I own!"  Is there no end to the horror that El Federlino hath wrought? Can't we stop the madness?

I Dream Of Fuggie

If it were Hallowe'en, I would wonder if Sienna Miller is dressed as the Bride of Aladdin, but as it is I just have to assume she's off her rocker again:

Her front-close shirt appears to be working its way open as best it can; I wish it the best of luck in freeing itself from those trousers. For they are not bell-bottoms: They appear to be elasticized around her ankle, creating that unfortunate billowing effect that one only ought wear if one hopes to be rubbed heartily, and immediately prior to some slobbering oaf making three slurry wishes that chiefly involve both invasive procedures and some Nachos Bell Grande.

The pervasiveness of boho-reek has me in a delicate enough state; if genie-wear is on its way in, I might plunge into a dark downward spiral the likes of which will make Kate Holmes-Cruise's recent antics look like nothing more than a gentle gust of wind on the outskirts of Crazytown.

I think her sash unfolds into a magic carpet. She really shouldn't operate that thing if she's tipsy; hopefully someone can fly it home for her.

Fugenna Miller

This is London's adored fashion icon -- a woman who dresses like a beer wench at a French rodeo? Mais non.

Fug Op: Sienna Miller

"Hi. I'm Sienna Miller. You might remember me from such tabloid reports as, 'Jude Law Splits With Sadie Frost, Cavorts With New Co-Star While Wife Minds Kids And Sinks Deeper Into Depression,' or 'Jude Law To Girlfriend Sienna Miller: "Stop Talking About Things You Don't Know Anything About."'

"Soon, you will know me as The Blonde From The Alfie Remake, assuming I'm still in that film somewhere. But just in case that doesn't work, I want you to hold a special place in your heart for me as somebody who soldiered through a difficult fashion situation:

"As you can plainly see, the dress I bought for whatever event this is didn't end up coming with supportive shoulder straps of any kind. The top was hanging limper than John Travolta in his marriage bed. It was a bad seafoam-green nightdress straight out of my grandmother's Lord & Taylor drawer, and it was comin' on down like it was the next contestant on The Price Is Right.

"Did I let that get to me? No. Did I cry a little and call Jude and ask him to tell me that I'm pretty? Maybe. I'm not telling. BUT … did I save the day by taking gaffer tape and building myself a harness, rooted at my neck and crotch, that would hold up the garment while I walked the red carpet? YES. Did I design the tape harness to make sure everyone's eye was drawn to my crotch, and therefore away from my fairly ugly dress? YES. Did I make sure I slouched on the red carpet so that none of the tape would rip off accidentally? YES.

"And did watching all those MacGyver episodes finally pay off? YES. In your face Richard Dean Anderson.

"Now, if only I'd thought to put on some lipstick..."