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February 26, 2008

Oscars Post-Party Fug: Tara Reid

Wondering what Tara Reid's been up to, other than gracing the pages of our book, in which we might be a leeetle mean about her propensity to be, as Heather once said, "too often Wild and not nearly enough On"? Well, someone invited her to an Oscar party!

And she remembered her spray tan! Is it me, or is this dress way too big? I know La Reid has lost weight -- I've been reading my Star Magazine! -- but the droopy dress + the tan + a sort of aggressive expression + the blonde + a resemblance I never noticed until now = Rachel Zoe. I don't mean that she appears styled by Zoe, I mean that if you squint and shake your head and move ten feet away from the computer, she sort of LOOKS like Rachel Zoe. Though surely Zoe would have accented this with giant sunglasses and a fur stole -- and would kill me if she knew I were comparing her to Tara Reid -- but you know what I mean. My question is: does this mean that Tara Reid is on the road to producing a book about style, perhaps titled From A to Reid, all about the stylistic merits of denim minis, excessive boozing and drunk-dialing Alyson Hannigan at midnight to yell that SHE should be the one in a sitcom? I certainly hope so. I would be first in line to buy it.

Posted by Jessica at 11:59 AM in Oscars, Tara Reid | Permalink

September 25, 2007

Fuga Reid

[Photo: infdaily.com]

TARA: Roberto!

ROBERTO CAVALLI: Aiiiii, it's you, Blond Person! That party girl! Lindsay!

TARA: No, ha ha, no, you're... no.

ROBERTO: Your denials entice me. Are you the pregnant one?

TARA: Um, I... Nicole Richie? No. It's...

CAVALLI: ARE YOU SURE? We are touching. I must know. Fetuses are so hot right now!

TARA: Yeah, I think so. I mean, yes. I'm not Nicole Richie.

CAVALLI:  I can see it: Fetus hats, RESPLENDENT in my fall 2008 collection. Vests made of diapers. God, it's divine. WHERE is my moisturizer?

TARA: It's Tara Reid, Roberto. I was -- shit, I AM -- an actress. Are you listening? Dammit, I was sure this would work.

CAVALLI: Do not swear at me, stage jockey, or I'll be compelled to wonder if I should take my sunglasses off and shift away from your earlobe.

TARA: Listen, it doesn't matter, I just really love you and I'm happy to be here, and it's amazing that you're allowing yourself to be seen...

CAVALLI: And you're not pregnant? It's just a really bad dress?

TARA: I guess so, yeah, it's...

CAVALLI: Then it is time, Anonymous Blonde.

TARA: Time for what?


TARA: I'm not sure what you...

[Photo: infdaily.com]

TARA: OW! I... ca... heeee...

CAVALLI: YES, be sullied! Smoke it like a forest fire that only YOU can prevent! You really should have worn a bra.

TARA: I never thought I'd say this, but can I stop now? We're being watched.

CAVALLI: It's what you wanted, pet strumpet. Stop whining. I'll send you a pair of embryo pumps from next season.

Posted by Heather at 10:42 AM in Tara Reid | Permalink

September 18, 2007

London Fugshion Week: Tara Reid

I feel like we've asked this question before, but I'm compelled to pose it again: SERIOUSLY, didn't she supposedly get those things fixed?

And if she did get 'em taken care of, why is she not now taking care of them? We appreciate that she is trying to be perky, but the one on the left appears so embarrassed that it's trying to take shelter in her armpit, and the one on the right just looks too depressed to do anything but sulk. It was a fixable issue, too -- a better dress, a little underwire, and we'd have been off to the races. Obviously, the cautionary leaflet her surgeon gave her -- Don't Be A Boob About Your New Boobs, sponsored by Playtex -- is lying in a crumpled heap in her car next to the Us Weekly issue in which she exalted how all that corrective surgery changed her life.

Still, I can at least take comfort in the fact that, with Tara Reid back to being kind of a mess, the world is apparently back to turning properly on its axis.

Posted by Heather at 08:59 AM in High Fugshion, Tara Reid | Permalink

July 19, 2007

American Fug III

Correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't we read that she got those things fixed?

Girl, your legs look great, but Righty McBoob over there is making a run for the border, while Lefty Bazongastern is about to dash over to the open bar and get itself a G&T (also, I can see your underwear, but panties are in short supply these days, so you'll get a pass. For now. Like how we forgive burglars when there's a serial killer on the loose).

A closer, more horrifying look at Ms Reid's boobular situation after the jump. It's....not entirely safe for work.

Dude. This is why the rest of us WEAR BRAS.

Posted by Jessica at 01:58 PM in Tara Reid | Permalink

July 11, 2007


"Hey guys, it's me! Tara Reid!

Do you like the new me? I've just entered my Grey Gardens period. I did the Sweet Ingenue thing, then I did the Drunky Mess, and then I did the boob-flashing -- way before any of these other dumb girls, thank you very much -- then I did the I'm So Sorry About The Drunk Boob Flashing, Hear Me Wail About My Bad Plastic Surgery thing, and now I'm moving into Quirky and Covered Up Headscarf-Lover. Kind of a little bit Mary-Kate, with a dash of Arden Wohl and a hint of Grandma! And sure, unlike Mary Kate, Arden and Nana, it doesn't seem like a look I've entirely come up with all on my own, like I probably didn't wake up one morning and think, "I need more things tied around my head," unless I was dreaming about how I can't keep my hair on. But it's less predictable than those other personas, and at least I'm all covered up and sort of adult looking, finally, right? Right? I think so. Now, I just need to date a sort of brooding, brainy shipping heir to squire me around, and I'll be set! See you inside -- I hear there's an open bar!"

Posted by Jessica at 11:58 AM in Tara Reid | Permalink

December 21, 2006

Well Played, Tara Reid

Well, well, well. Looks like somebody's still striving to do right by that recent Us Weekly cover.

Not too bloated, nothing popping out, hanging out, or trying to escape, no mascara dribbling down her face like strained carrots from the mouth of a baby... Yes, okay, I still think she's lying about not getting a facial tweak or three when she went in to drain those godawful sandbags, but on the whole, it looks like her resolution to be less terrifying has indeed taken hold.

Ladies and gentlemen, let's start a slow clap for Ms. Tara Reid, potentially (please forgive my reluctance to go full-bore on the optimism) a guttersnipe no more.

Posted by Heather at 09:48 AM in Tara Reid, Well Played | Permalink

November 13, 2006

Well Played: Tara Reid (!)

I know, we can't believe it either. But seriously, check it out:

We don't know what prompted the Tara Reid Tour of Contrition and Sobriety, but we'd like to take whoever convinced her to pull her shit together out for a drink. Heather and I wondered -- while she was hosting The View -- if maybe she'd had some work done on her face when she got her boobs fixed, and it's hard to say. I think it's possible that maybe she just finally got a series of decent facials and stopped smoking. No matter what she did, it was well done, because she actually almost looks like the last five years didn't even happen, like Taradise was hosted by her skeezy twin sister. This girl looks like someone you could conceivably see starring in a romantic comedy.  So never let it be said that we don't give credit where credit is due. That is an impressive change from this:

Seriously. Nice job, kid.

Posted by Jessica at 07:58 AM in Tara Reid, Well Played | Permalink

September 21, 2006

American Fug

Tara Reid has given up her acting career and picked up modeling. Next month, she will be appearing on the cover of Dead Eyes Monthly:

(This photo was also considered for the cover of Ima Kill You, Jessica, If You Don't Stop Being So Mean To Me weekly.)

In case you're wondering, she also appears to be really gifted at runway:

I admit that I am not an expert on catwalk style, but I am pretty sure two-handed waves are not particularly fierce.

Poor Tara Reid. Honestly.  She is such a mess, I can hardly bring myself to publish this post. I mean, I'm going to and all, but simply as a call for help on her behalf. Girl, FOR REAL: go to the Golden Door or Canyon Ranch or something for like TWO MONTHS. Dry out. Give people a chance to miss you. Give your hair a chance to regain a flimsy hold on life again. Try to PULL IT TOGETHER. GOD.

Posted by Jessica at 10:05 AM in Tara Reid | Permalink

August 07, 2006

Wow, That Was Fast: A Refugging of Tara Reid

The Lord giveth, and then He taketh away.

Tara Reid should probably have that tattooed onto her pelvis. Not only is it an apt statement for her life in general, but she also wasted no time in undoing the gracious -- albeit skeptical -- unfugging bestowed upon her on Friday:

One thing that was givethed that He should have takethed away from her hot little spray-tanned hand was the Manic Flowbee of Terror she borrowed from Tom Cruise, and apparently refuses to give back. Now more now than ever, Tara Reid's hair looks like half of it was ripped out at the root in a horrific head-Hoovering accident, which clearly has left her dazed and unable to focus her eyes. It also has pulled up the right side of her face into an eternal stunned smirk. (Who knew Flowbees could do this? If she'd just done the other side, BOOM! Instant Botox, without the needles. Nicole Kidman-Cruise-Urban must be dying that she didn't think to extort this thing in the divorce.)

Alas, though, Tara's problems don't stop with her wan mane. Poor little Nips Akimbo, Child of Chestal Tragedy, has chosen yet another shirt that not only emphasizes the mesmerizingly shameful work of her plastic surgeon -- seriously, when he put in her implants, did he use ACTUAL sandbags? -- but which is also just sort of inexplicable. I'm not sure what those shoulder flaps are, but the way they drape on her shoulders looks like the shirt is pressing down on her, giving her a weird slouchy look that only enhances the fact that her expensive mounds of hell are already flying south for the winter.

Tara, Tara, Tara.

Posted by Heather at 03:45 PM in Tara Reid | Permalink

August 04, 2006

I'm Not Confident Enough To Call It An Unfugging, But Still: Tara Reid

Today is apparently the day I say nice things about people I usually slag.

Take Tara "Hot Mess" Reid:

Have I suffered a massive head injury, or is this better than usual? I really think it's better than usual. I mean, I am not wild about the shoes, and the scoop neck is a tiny little bit more scooped than it ought to be, and those roots are the sort pulled off only by Amanda Woodward, but overall she looks really kind of pretty. No, I mean it.

Which shouldn't be as surprising as it is, really. I mean, prior to the current era of drunken boob-flashing, T.R went through a period of being really pretty cute and fresh-faced. Remember? Like this:

I mean, I'm probably talking crazy here, but it is possible that this ho has, as requested, sacked up?

Posted by Jessica at 12:51 PM in Tara Reid, Well Played | Permalink


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