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January 15, 2007

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.


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

CAMERON: At least my boyfriend didn't --





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.

Posted by Jessica at 10:32 AM in Sienna Miller | Permalink

January 03, 2007


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.

Posted by Jessica at 08:28 AM in Sienna Miller | Permalink

October 17, 2006

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.

Posted by Heather at 08:36 AM in Sienna Miller | Permalink

October 11, 2006

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.

Posted by Heather at 11:35 AM in Sienna Miller | Permalink

June 23, 2006

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.

Posted by Jessica at 11:29 AM in Sienna Miller | Permalink

May 02, 2006

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:


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.


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.


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.


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.


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.



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.

Posted by Jessica at 10:36 AM in Sienna Miller | Permalink

March 06, 2006

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.

Posted by Jessica at 03:06 PM in Oscars, Sienna Miller | Permalink

February 28, 2006


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.

Posted by Heather at 02:14 PM in Sienna Miller | Permalink

November 14, 2005


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.

Posted by Heather at 12:05 PM in Sienna Miller | Permalink

November 03, 2005

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.

Posted by Jessica at 11:26 AM in Sienna Miller | Permalink


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