Fugger: Chloe Sevigny
I get what she’s going for here:
The problem is that I think I hate it. I don’t mind these parts on their own — the dress is very cute, and the boots are cool (I am neutral on the bag) — but there’s “toughening up your girliest dress” and then there’s “my feet fell into a 90s wormhole and now I can’t stop singing Sixpence None the Richer,” and if we could all avoid the latter, it’d be for the best.
Every day the Olympics goes on, it gets more and more tragic in Hollywood. Today’s batch of photos included “TIMOTHY DALTON GOES ON AN ERRAND!” and “JILLIAN MICHAELS PICKS UP FOOD!” and “VIN DIESEL GETS DINNER WITH TYRESE!!!!” The photographers are trying. But every exclamation point is like a dagger to all our souls. All of which means that we have to Get Creative.
Or, we can just sit around and wonder how many times Chloe Sevigny had to wash these before they shrank to her liking. Either way.
[Photo: INF Daily]
I have no idea what this pattern is…
… but if I narrow my eyes and look in very specific spots, it looks like an ode to hamburgers. And I hope it IS, because look, if you’re going to stick yourself in a weirdly crotched jumpsuit**, making it an ode to the mighty meat sandwich is basically the only silver lining. Maybe the quasi-hat-head she’s sporting is because a minute ago she had on a giant sesame-seed bun sombrero. Let’s all hope.
**People with better eyes than mine say it’s a jacket and matching pants. The jury may be hung as to whether that makes it better or worse; we may be en route to a mistrial.
[Photo: Pacific Coast News]
I often refer to the Met Ball in my head as The Place Where Fug Madness Seedings Are Born, and this year was no exception. Wee begin with the fantastically, delightfully, hilariously addlepated ensemble of one Chloe Sevigny, who is back to being one of my very favorite people in the world.
Yes, she’s bedecked chiefly in hot pants and mirrors. If only she’d opted to look in one of them.