Fugger: Ashanti



I have sat here waving my hands around for the last five minutes trying to understand which obscure fertility deity she thinks she is. To be fair, Ashanti is at some random fashion show and is thus garbed in one of the label’s designs, but ALSO to be fair, Michelle Williams and Petra Nemcova were also present and they didn’t feel the need to wear a ¬†glorified vaginal sheath:

i am still in shock


Always on Fug

Hey Ashanti,

This dress isn’t bad. Seriously. And you look great from the neck up. But do you think I could interest you in going up a size? Because I’m pretty sure something is considering popping out. So….no? No, you’re not interested. Okay. Fair enough. None of my business. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.



New York Fugshion Week: Day One

We saw Ashanti at BCBG on Thursday morning — always our Fashion Week opener – and she gave us this:

Yes: the finger. Via her shoes. With a long pink nail. To be clear, she was totally cheerful and friendly the whole time; she just happened to be wearing these Massimo Doganas, which the Internet says cost about $1100 (and are called F U shoes, and also have the phrase spelled out in cursive on the platform). For that kind of money, it should also be able to shave her leg, moisturize it, and contract the finger to scratch any itches she might develop. But at least this achieved one very important thing: I totally now have my Halloween costume set for next year. No need to bother with the rest of Ashanti — I’m JUST going to go as this shoe. And then later also possibly try to sell ad space on my feet to the American Sign Language people.

I suppose you might want to see what one wears WITH F U shoes. Here is Ashanti’s option:

it will never live up to the shoe’s promise



So, do we think this is Ashanti in costume as a leopard…

[Photo: Splash News]

… or a leopard in costume as Ashanti? Because each one makes about as much sense as the other, but at least the leopard would have an excuse for a corset.

Grammys Fug Carpet: Ashanti

I would seriously have paid someone $100 bucks to sneak up behind Ashanti at the Grammys with a pair of scissors and just chop off that train:

In fact, fifty bucks to whichever member of Ashanti’s entourage gets to her closet first and does it now.



Listen up, Ashanti.

You are not Rihanna. You are not a long-lost Jackson sister. And you are not starring in Pretty Woman 2: Hooker Boogaloo.  I am not fooled.



There are no words.

[Photo: WENN]

It’s outfits like this that make me imagine what it felt like to be Ashanti, standing in her dressing room, rummaging around for all the pieces to this outfit. Wondering if she should tuck the top into her plastic high-waisted ruched leggings; wondering if she could DARE wear it out without the purple satin belt; freaking out because she couldn’t remember where she put her fist-sized sparkly earrings, and angrily having to substitute something slightly smaller; lovingly applying that extra dollop of eyelash gel so they clumped into spiky ocular claws.

And then, I imagine what it felt like to be Ashanti’s assistant, watching all this happen and thinking privately, “I have GOT to stop letting her eat paste.”