Kris Jenner was also there, but we already covered her because…well, that was DEFCON 1 of fug. It needed to be addressed immediately.
Fugger: Alice Dellal
Every superhero and super-villain has that one thing that can destroy them, you know? Like, for Superman, it’s kryptonite. For the Wicked Witch of the West, it’s an otherwise innocent bucket of water. For Lord Voldemort, it’s — SPOILER, although, honestly, you HAVE to be done with that book by now — love.
And for me, Super Fug Girl 2, it’s this:
To quote the great one: I’M MELTING.
Rather than force you to read entry after entry of marginally accurate facts about marginally Wikipedia’d people, I figured I’d put a whole bunch of these lucky guests into one Slideshow of Semi-Random Fuggery and then let y’all talk up the various merits and demerits of the fashion in the comments. Starting with Schiff’s funky number here that occasionally looks like she’s shooting fire out of her uterus. I bet that comes in handy when she wants to make s’mores.
Poor Alice Dellal.
No one told her the ice-dancing was actually MONDAY night.
At the Elle Style Awards, Alice Dellal pulled out all the stops in displaying her innate mastery of subtle fashion.
She looks like a footsoldier in an alien army from a body-hair-fearing planet, sent to Earth to wax the bejeesus out of us and then replace all our clothes with things made exclusively of shoulder pads and black netting.
Never have I been so thankful for that stuff, by the way. Whoever invented it should be knighted.
Google tells me this sometimes-model is mainly a “punk rock party girl.” I would say that’s apt:
This is one of those photos that I would put in a 2008 time capsule, so that in 30 years people will go, “Ripped nylons as pants? Are you f’ing KIDDING ME?” And I’ll be like, “I KNOW, it didn’t make any sense THEN, EITHER, and yet it HAPPENED.” Too bad Alice didn’t leave it back in 2005, which is where the Olsens buried this trend; it’s doubly weird because the top half of her looks like she popped in for a day of home-building do-gooding on, like, Extreme Makeover: Home Edition, and then shacked up with Ty Pennington and crawled off in his coat.
But here is my real question: If a tree falls in the forest, and you’re not around to see it because you’re too busy finding a pair of shorts that will be completely obscured by your pastel plaid shirt, do they still count as shorts?