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August 19, 2005

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.

Posted by Heather at 10:28 AM in Sienna Miller | Permalink

August 02, 2005

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?

Posted by Jessica at 10:51 AM in Sienna Miller | Permalink

July 18, 2005

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?

Posted by Jessica at 08:51 AM in Sienna Miller | Permalink

June 24, 2005

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.

Posted by Heather at 11:04 AM in Sienna Miller | Permalink

June 16, 2005

Fugenna Miller

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

Posted by Heather at 03:30 PM in Sienna Miller | Permalink

September 07, 2004

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..."

Posted by Heather at 02:38 PM in Sienna Miller | Permalink | Comments (0)

 

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