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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, Unfuggings, Well Played | Permalink

August 23, 2006

Goodbye, Fug (We Hope): Kimberly Stewart

There was a time when I couldn't imagine having much nice to say about Kimberly Stewart. Aside from looking generally dishevelled -- well, except for her full, perfect makeup, slathered on with a trowel at the merest hint of fresh air in the hope of running into some paparazzi -- there were few things as sad as when Paris Hilton decided to be her BFF for about ten seconds, making them dress alike, pose alike, and party alike in order to convince Fox that it didn't need Nicole Richie to do The Simple Life. Of course, when the honchos saw straight through this act and refused to bite, Paris dropped Kim like a Greek shipping heir, leaving Kim stranded on Robertson Blvd. outside Kitson with nobody but the manager rooting for her.

And, we hate to say it, but Paris had a point -- I mean, failing to convince a studio executive that you are a good charismatic foil for Paris Hilton is a bit like losing a dance competition to a tree.

So, things were looking pretty bleak for Rod's spawn. And yet, there may be a light at the end of her desperate, clawing tunnel:

Cute clutch, cute ring, cute smile, cute flirty dress, and REALLY CUTE shoes: Suddenly, Kimberly Stewart looks kind of... dare I say it... adorable. Granted, I set the bar for her at, "Completely clothed and/or not relying on a bathing-suit top as her only means of cover," but still. And I really cannot say enough how fantastic those shoes are, and how much I covet them, even if the right one is a tad big in the heel. [But, who doesn't have that happen? Most everyone has one foot that's slightly smaller than the other, and until shoes come in adjustible sizes, we're just going to have to live with some gaps. All of us.]

Perhaps all that shopping paid off -- perhaps Kimberly Stewart is slowly pulling herself out of the cesspool of style in which she once so gleefully dog-paddled. Or, perhaps the Kitson manager took her under his wing, figuring that if she was going to be photographed clutching one of his shopping bags like a lifeline, he'd prefer she didn't look drunk or deranged, lest anyone think her misguided wares came from his store.

Either way, we're pleased to see progress.

Posted by Heather at 06:33 AM in Unfuggings | Permalink

August 04, 2006

Goodbye Fug: Maggie Gyllenhaal

We've said some mean stuff about Maggie Gyllenhaal's wardrobe in the past. In fact, she once wore a gray mechanic's jumpsuit that still causes me to wake up in a cold sweat.I may never recover from the horror of the jumpsuit.

But hold onto your hats and glasses, because I'm about to say something nice: I LOVE what she's wearing to the World Trade Center premiere:

In fact, I like it so much, I'm not even going to get into how tired I am of her wearing this sort of Heidi on the Mountain, Crossed Braids On the Top of Her Head hairdo. I know she's pregnant, and it's hot out, but there are certainly coiffures which are as cool -- and probably easier -- than this one, but which also have the added benefit of not making you look as though you're campaigning for the role of Swiss Miss.

But that is a nitpick! Because I love, love this dress on her. Personally, I am currently on a big navy blue kick, and the color is gorgeous with her complexion. The cut is tremendously flattering, from the sleeves to the hem, and the neckline makes the most of her knocked-up boobs. Her make-up is chic, and clean, and her shoes are adorable. She looks just lovely. Is it simple? Absolutely. Is that a bad thing? Not in this case. In fact, it's classy. So well done, Maggie.

And, if I may say so, there's something about the fact that Peter Sarsgaard (on whom I have a secret crush) is giving the camera finger guns that just delights me.  His finger guns, plus her subtle "here we go again with the finger guns" smirk, make this the sort of celebrity photo I love, because it's one where you actually see the celebrities acting like real people, people you might you know. Because everyone's had the boyfriend who loved sarcastic finger guns, and almost everyone has acted perturbed by this display of juvenalia whilst secretly also finding finger guns hilarious.

So this entire package pleases me. It pleases me very much. There is much hope for the Sarsenhaalette after all.

Posted by Jessica at 09:56 AM in Maggie Gyllenhaal, Unfuggings | Permalink

July 13, 2006

Goodbye, Fug: Stephanie Seymour

Considering how she served up all of herself on a leopard-print platter at an Oscar post-party two years ago -- and then again last year -- it is no insignificant feat of sanity that got Stephanie Seymour out of her house and to the My Super Ex-Girlfriend premiere in a normal-looking outfit.

She looks lovely: clean and fresh for summer, youthful but not like she's clinging desperately to the last wisps of her halcyon days, fit and glowing, tastefully accessorized. And most importantly, she is not asking me to watch various pieces of fabric blaze their unforgiving trail through her derriere's most secret crevices. So, in the truest sense, everybody wins here.

Posted by Heather at 12:56 PM in Unfuggings | Permalink

July 05, 2006

Goodbye, Fug: Zooey Deschanel

A hearty Go Fug Yourself congrats to Zooey Deschanel!

Dress? Cute! Shoes? Cute! Bag? Cute! Pony-tails? We'll allow it. Nude fish-nets with a black frock instead of black tights with a flowery cocktail gown? A huge step in the right direction. Play on, Miss Deschanel. Play on.

And is it wrong that I just squealed with delight when I read on the IMDb that you're playing Liza Minnelli in the new Halston bio-pic? For some reason, I can really see that. Although if it leads to an unfortunate period in which you traipse around town in Giant Liza Spider Lashes, I reserve the right to refug you at once.

Posted by Jessica at 11:58 AM in Unfuggings | Permalink

May 11, 2006

Goodbye Fug, For A Millisecond: Fergie

I'm not happy about what I'm about to do.

This whole thing reminds me of the deal with me and wedges. When wedges came back in, I hated them. They seemed so '70s to me, and not in a way I wanted to revisit. For some reason they struck such a visceral chord of distaste within me. I liked my heels separate from my shoes, and I really didn't like them made from something that's better served plugging a wine bottle until I'm ready to open it. "I am NOT buying a wedge, I don't care HOW hard Lucky and Steve Madden try to push me," I proclaimed on more than one occasion. "And don't even get me STARTED on those damn espadrilles that are coming in again."

Well, of course, then I started accidentally admiring wedges on people, and making tiny exceptions to my firm anti-wedge stance. And then suddenly I owned something sort of wedgey, and poof, fast-forward to April, when I bought some espadrille-wedgey things that tie around the ankle for my honeymoon and I had to check with my friend Carrie that I wasn't crazy and that they didn't look all that vile, and she confirmed they really were cute on, and suddenly there I was with a fusion of two hated things burning a hole in my suitcase. I felt dirty. And I wore them constantly when I was away.

I thought of this when the following photo flashed across my computer screen this morning.

Will you look at that? Fergie looks... classy. And pretty. The dress fits her in the most flattering places, she accessorized it really tastefully, her hair looks washed and brushed, there are no horrid little braids or formal shorts or C-3PO boots in sight, she appears momentarily sober and able to stand upright under her own power... in the immortal words of Wentworth Miler on Ellen, "Brava, brava."


I grappled with this all morning. Was this the first step down a treacherous, slippery Fergie slope? Would I wake up in a month unfugging her all over the place and saying to myself, "You know, she does rock a 24-inch zipper on her shorts"? Would Jessica try to talk some sense into me, leading to me locking myself in my bedroom with copies of Us Weekly out of which I would lovingly cut photos of Fergie, knowing it was just her and me against the world -- a cold, cruel world that didn't understand legwarmers and pants-wettings? Would she have to tie me to a tree and stage an intervention, a carefrontation, in which all my friends baited me until I broke and then patched me back together again?

Then I realized that I've held strong against the Black-Eyed Peas for their entire gnawing existence. I've been tough on leggings. I won't stand for dresses over pants. And my crusade against overlong pants that eat a girl's feet has marched on with vigor. So there's no reason to think Fergie will break me -- Fergie, the bane (and, therefore, the life-giving manna) of much of GFY's existence. There's no reason to think she'll weaken my resolve. And there's no reason to think that when I go see Poseidon, I will suddenly find myself weeping inconsolably when she is (please please please please) crushed by a falling piano.

And thusly, I slapped some sense into myself, because so few bid a lasting adieu to The Fug and certainly Fergie won't be that kind of pioneer. It felt right to be strong and give credit where credit is due. So congratulations, Josh Duhamel, you kept her clean and pretty for the duration of the pre-premiere red carpet. I salute you. If you can keep up this good work, we can finally go out for that romantic dinner you've always been after. Okay? Great.

Posted by Heather at 05:37 PM in Fergie (the Pea, not the duchess), Unfuggings | Permalink

January 06, 2006

Goodbye, Fug: Michael Madsen

The last time we saw Michael Madsen, he wasn't looking so good.  But I daresay he's actually cleaned up nice for the premiere of the atrociously-named Bloodrayne:


Well cut suit, nice blue shirt, no oversized shiny weirdly-patterned shirt, and the greasy Nolte-hair is under control. Well played, Madsen, well played. According to  good old IMDb, he's got a ton of stuff coming out this year and next, so maybe he got back in tip-top for work. But whatever or whomever prompted his transformation away from the Greasy Failed Card Shark look, we salute you.

Posted by Jessica at 06:52 AM in Unfuggings | Permalink

November 30, 2005

Goodbye Fug: Randy Quaid

It's tough to be Randy Quaid.

Well, okay, not really. He's a talented actor, he's funny, he grilled burgers made of Hamburger Helper in National Lampoon's Vacation, and he can probably afford a mortgage in this town, which is more than a lot of people can say. In that sense, being Randy Quaid isn't such a heinous thing.

But it's got to be hard when your brother is Delicious -- er, I mean, Dennis -- and you will always be considered the Quaid who, sure, is great at what he does, but maybe got stuck in the shallow end of the physical gene pool while Dennis was busy marinating in all that good DNA juice that buxom blonde hotties have spent his lifetime licking off of that manly, sculpted chest.

All that goes to show why we at Go Fug Yourself were so sad to see Randy apparently just giving up in this manner. It was a shame, because it's not that Randy is ugly; it's that his brother is, in some senses, Adonis Quaid (have you SEEN The Parent Trap? Lindsay Lohan is probably pissed she was only 12 back then, because Dennis would've been a way hotter grossly inappropriate bar fling than Bruce Willis). There's a reason Dennis is "Sinned" backwards, and it's because that's what he makes nice girls want to do. But that muumuu... it was an alarming sign of surrender from Randy. We thought we might never get him back.

Until today.

Randy looks healthy, happy, and as if he's raided Sinned's wardrobe. A white t-shirt and a leather jacket, paired with jeans, is a universal thumbs-up, especially when it does not appear to be accompanying any kind of mid-life crisis/trucker hat. In all, I'd say Randy is proving he did at least breast-stroke his way into a deeper part of the DNA reservoir. He looks fetching! Rock on with your Quaidness, Randy!

And most vitally, congratulations on pulling yourself out of smock doom. Those were terrible times. Don't ever hide your light under a muumuu again, okay?

Posted by Heather at 10:51 AM in Unfuggings | Permalink

June 08, 2005

Goodbye Fug: Jack Osbourne?

Well, no one is more surprised than I am. But Jack Osbourne? Looks kind of hot these days. No, seriously. No, I mean it. No, I'm really not kidding. Check it:

I don't know if you remember the way he used to look, but it was not good. It was not good in a really serious way. To wit:

He looks like a woman from afar, with that hair. And, close up:

That hair? Is in the Fugly Hall of Fame. If you didn't believe that Jack Osbourne was once on some serious, serious drugs, this hair should prove it. Because no one would think that looked good unless they were completely high.

But now? I don't know. Maybe I'm crazy, but I think he looks rather charming.  The suit is lovely. The hair is still funky, but clearly styled. He's got a bit of a tan. He just looks like he feels better. Of course, part of  that surely has to do with his weight loss -- which, have I been living under a rock? Has he been losing weight steadily and I just didn't notice [possible. Very, very possible.], or did he get the gastric? Either way, bravo, Jack. You look fit and healthy and definitely sharply-dressed.

So, cheers! And welcome to the small crowd of the unfugged.  I never thought I'd see the day.

Posted by Jessica at 01:41 PM in Unfuggings | Permalink

May 09, 2005

Unfug, Refug

We are as surprised as anyone when Bai Ling shows up somewhere looking, well, human. So we would be remiss not to throw her a bone for the following ensemble:

[Photo courtesy of Daily Celeb.]

See how easy it can be when you embrace things like fabric? Maybe Bai Ling went on a modesty kick after claiming she was cut out of Star Wars, Episode III: Revenge of the Sith because of her upcoming Playboy spread -- forgetting, of course, that we've already practically been there and seen that, and besides, in the words of Lucasfilm, "It was only one scene" that got sliced a year ago, and you probably did it all for the Wookiee, the Wookiee, anyway, so CRAM IT, Bai Ling.

Ah, but for every crest, there is a trough; for every sensible outfit, there is an insanity binge:

She looks like Little Ho Peep. Even Scarlett Johansson, who is wearing riding boots with those pants for God's sake, is all, "Fine, I'll pose, but if she asks me to help find her sheep, I'm gonna rip off that wig and slap her with it until she cries."

Posted by Heather at 02:25 PM in Bai Ling, Unfuggings | Permalink

February 16, 2005

Goodbye, Fug, For, Like, A Minute: Our Once And Future Fug Queen

I don't mean to alarm you guys, but... Courtney Peldon -- Forever Our Fug Girl -- is back, and... well, she's not dressing like a two-bit whore:

[Photo courtesy of Daily Celeb.]

This ensemble clearly says, "Twenty-bit whore."

Actually, we have to applaud La Peldon for choosing something relatively tame for herself. Sure, she has some painful-looking camel toe, and we have minor issues with her shoe choice -- especially as it pertains to the handbag -- but, c'mon, this is Courtney Peldon here. We're lucky she isn't somehow dressed as a shoe.

Perhaps -- and I'm not advocating fashion terrorism here -- she got some the sense stabbed into her? I don't know.

And frankly, I sort of hope not. Because we here at GFY missed Courtney Peldon while she was recuperating from The Knifing Felt 'Round The World, If By "World" You Mean "My Living Room," and we would be lying to ourselves and everyone else if we said we wanted her to return from this incident with a sense of decorum.

Obviously the bathtub gin is getting to our heads. But we can't help it: We like our Peldon confusing, fugly, and inappropriate. We like her obscure. And most of all, if she does dress up as a shoe, we'd like her to be a leopard-print thigh-high boot, or a marabou slipper-stiletto.

Posted by Heather at 11:28 AM in Courtney Peldon, Unfuggings | Permalink

January 19, 2005

Goodbye, Fug: PARIS HILTON?

Look, no one is more surprised than I am:

Someone's been taking lessons from Nicole "Girl, I Left The Fug Last Year And Haven't Ever Looked Back" Ritchie. Paris looks so...sweet. Wholesome. Cute. Well-coiffed. Nicely shod. I can't even see her vagina.

If this keeps up, I'm going to be out of a job.

Posted by Jessica at 12:26 PM in Paris & Nicky Hilton, Unfuggings | Permalink | Comments (13)

November 08, 2004

Goodbye Fug, For Now: Brittany Murphy

In the past, Ms. Brittany Murphy has certainly been subject to our scrutiny. True, her heyday of emaciation and frightening fug mostly took place before this site existed, but she's always been one of those people whose messy bleach job and bony frame had her atop many people's "Celebrities Who Will Not Live Out The Year" lists.

We're happy to say that she now looks a lot healthier:

[Photo courtesy of Daily Celeb.]

There's something about brunettes this year. Reese Witherspoon did it and looked resplendant at the premieres she attended. Ashlee Simpson did it, and her dishwater hair will hopefully never return. Nicky Hilton sparkles more with dark hair than she did as a Paris clone.

And now Brittany Murphy joins their ranks, and it flatters her. The color makes her skin look creamy and gleaming, without the pallor that sometimes reflects off of dark roots, overly fried blonde hair, and an aversion to carbs, or indeed, any nourishment at all. She's slim but she doesn't look as breakable as she once did; she's toned down her clothes to a more classy selection -- which she admittedly had been doing before the color change, but the hair pushed her over the top for this unfugging -- and she doesn't look strung out and scary.

Okay, so the top sort of makes her breasts look like little tumors. But we'll give it to her, because hey, she's still alive. Rock on, Brittany, and please, continue to eat. You can afford it and it will only make you rosier and further from the depths of fug.

Posted by Heather at 10:04 PM in Unfuggings | Permalink | Comments (1)

October 29, 2004

Goodbye Fug -- For Now: Part IV in an Occasional Series

Ladies and gentleman, I present to you, Lil' Kim.

I know. I can't believe it either. No breasts hanging out. No crotch-shots. No ass cheeks. Almost no skin at all! In fact, I would almost dub this outfit overly demure, if I wasn't scared of sending her back over the precipice to Hootch Canyon. Instead, I raise a glass of Cristal to you, Kim, and congratulate you on cleaning up so nicely. I'm not wild about the bangs, but I love the shoes and overall, you look adorable. Adorable, and clean. Well played, my dear. I'm so proud.

Posted by Jessica at 11:57 AM in Lil' Kim, Unfuggings | Permalink | Comments (25)

September 16, 2004

Goodbye, Fug -- Kinda: Part III in an Occasional Series

I'm so conflicted.

Part of me is filled with glee because Debra Messing totally hasn't lost all her baby weight and I am sure she is beside herself with horror every time she buttons her size six jeans because she seems like a total control freak who can't stand the fact that she no longer needs a license to reveal her collarbone because it's not sharp enough to cut anyone anymore.

But the other part of me is irritated that she hasn't totally lost all her baby weight, because now she looks sort of lovely and normal and it's hard to make fun of that. And she generally dresses well, so I can't go there. And she's got such nice hair, although I don't like it blown out, particularly. So I don't know where to go with this: pleased at how upset she must be every time she steps on the scale, or peeved that she looks quite pretty thanks to the extra cursed pounds on her formerly skeletal frame?

I guess, grudgingly, I am going with a bit of both. Keep some of the weight on, Debra. You look much better without all your bones sticking out every which way, threatening the ocular safety of your castmates.

There will be no comment on Joan Collins's slightly questionable choice of belt or anything else that might be catagorized as questionable about Ms. Collins, for several reasons:

a) Joan Collins fucking rules.
b) Joan Collins looks smashing for eleventy, darling, and she's married to a man, like, two-thirds her age, so she must be doing something right. Plus, as mentioned previously, she rules.
c) It would be mean to say something about Heather when she's not here to defend herself.

Posted by Jessica at 08:49 PM in Unfuggings | Permalink | Comments (1)

August 17, 2004

Goodbye, Fug -- For Now: Part II In An Occasional Series

This is a bit of a departure for the Fug Blog: A compliment for Christina Aguilera.

True, a post-makeover Xtina still looks like an old-school screen siren by way of a French bordello and as if she still never met a pair of tweezers she didn't try to use in a booze haze. But, sincerely, she actually looks better than she has in a long time. After years of truly aggressive hair and makeup and some strange clothing that didn't fit her changing figure as she (admirably) packed some pounds on her skinny frame, La Fuguilera has been making way better decisions lately -- at least with regard to her mug. (Is that a bathrobe she's wearing? I can't tell. But as long as it doesn't have cutouts in the wrong place and a vagina fire, then we're okay.)

Although I should point out that the reason this photo caught my attention in the first place was: There's something so amusing about the expression on the sweet dog's face. It says, "Sigh." It says, "Don't even start. You don't even know." That pooch is staring straight at the camera and practically cocking an eyebrow at you in total acknowledgement that you and it are communicating the real story. Has it peeked into the wardrobe of Xtina and seen that the days of relative modesty are coming to a disastrous end? The little angel, whom I want to scoop up and carry off into the sunset, knows something, and he's pretty sure we know it too, deep down in our hearts.

As Ms. A has publicly stated that she is beautiful no matter what we say, and words won't bring her down, I feel no remorse in positing: Maybe the dog knows that you can give a girl ringlets, a comparatively modest dress, and eight pounds of comparatively tasteful face paint, but it still won't clean the crust off her tainted hooch.

But, so what? Bravo to her for the external makeover. May she keep the fug at bay.

Posted by Heather at 11:53 AM in Unfuggings | Permalink | Comments (3)

August 13, 2004

Goodbye, Fug (For Now): Nicole Richie

Occasionally, here at Go Fug Yourself, we like to recognize the Formerly Fugly who have cleaned up their acts. And you know whose act is totally sparkling these days? The former fugster and recipiant of a much needed and critically ballyhooed makeover, Nicole Richie.

Here's the old Nicole, who appeared to have a strained relationship with hygiene at best, although she clearly was up close and personal with The Fug:

Now, however, I completely covet her wardrobe. First of all, she's dressing for her figure perfectly. Like Les Soeurs Duff, Ms Richie has a shortish neck and a squarish bod [as, tragically, do I]. Unlike Las Duffs, however, she now dresses perfectly for said bod. Check it:

I just love that suit. It's so crisp and well tailored, and perfect for her figure. She just looks delightful.

I love this look, too:

And this one:

I don't know who managed to convince Nicole to give up her Uggs and lengthen her hemline [or how much her kicking the smack had to do with this revision of her image], but America -- and Nicole -- owes that person a debt of gratitude. Now, if we could just do something about Paris...

Posted by Jessica at 01:16 PM in Nicole Richie, Unfuggings | Permalink | Comments (0)