Fugger: Janet Jackson

Cannes Fugs and Fabs: The amfAR Gala

I was all het up about Cannes juror Nicole Kidman not being at this (or at that may other things), but it turns out she was, and just may not have done the red carpet. I’ve decided this is because she’s been holed up all day in a darkened room watching every Cannes movie and flossing popcorn out of her teeth.

[Photos: Bauer-Griffin, WENN, Splash]


Cannes Fugs and Fabs: Actresses at amfAR

Cannes is long. Doesn’t it feel like it’s been going on forever? And some of these people — Diane Kruger, especially — have been there the whole time. I imagine them arriving all coolly fabulous, swanning into a room at the Majestic Barriere, or wherever, with a swingy travel coat and giant dark shades they rip off as uniformed bellmen scramble to unload all their posh trunks into an appropriate corner of the suite. That may be because I always imagine everyone is posher and more coordinated than I am, as my entrance would look a lot more like Janet The Soap Queen from Dirty Rotten Scoundrels, where she essentially trips into the hotel. Anyway. Let’s look at the latest stuff they unpacked.

[Photos: Getty, WENN]


Janet Fugkson

I’m not sure I could wear this shirt.
Mostly, I think I’d spend the entire night afraid that the wrong twist of the torso would result in my own beheading. Also, I can’t tell where shirt stops and blazer starts, and… why is the belt necessary, exactly? Also, what the hell is going on down south?

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Met Ball Fug Carpet: Janet Jackson

The good: Janet’s looking good…you know, as like a human life-form. I am mesmerized by her cleavage. The bad: I don’t know that I need to see the underside of her boob.

The good: I like her shoes. The bad: the sleeves and glove all loaded down on one side of her body make me feel like this look is actually a black satin expression of the angst experienced by the Batman villain Two-Face, AKA one side is beautiful and the other is whacked out. The good: who’s Janet holding hands with? Does she have a new boyfriend? Because good gossip seriously makes everything okay.


Fug or Fab: Janet Jackson

I wonder if I’ve ever written about Janet Jackson on this web site without making a “Miss Jackson if you’re nasty” joke. I don’t think I have. I can’t help it. That song is awesome. I love songs with spoken word segments right in the middle of them — “Candy,” by Mandy Moore, and of course, “Oops, I Did It Again,” which boasts possibly the most ridiculous spoken segment EVER — but “no, my first name ain’t ‘Baby.’ It’s Janet. MISS JACKSON, IF YOU’RE NASTY” is probably the one that’s the most fun to yell along with in the car. I mean, come on. That song rules. But what about Miss Jackson’s ensemble?

Why the dropped crotch, Miss Jackson? Why?


Well Played, Janet Jackson

On the one hand, this is very Krystle Carrington:

On the other, it’s both sexy and mature on her — I mean, as much as Janet Jackson is perpetually Miss Jackson If You’re Nasty in my head, she is 43, and so it’s nice that she’s not running around trying to act like she’s Lauren Conrad or something. The matching nail polish might be a bit much, but frankly, I’m just glad Janet looks both happy and as though she has not forsaken eating. Her entire tabloid experience is either stories about a) how she’s gained a ton of weight, or b) how she’s lost a bunch of weight for the last time, for real, totally, we mean it. So I’m glad she’s bought some real estate someplace in between: healthy, hot, and still not afraid to flash a little cleavage. You go, Janet. And if somebody sees this photo and decides to pitch Dynasty II and cast her as the trophy wife in a clan of Kleenex barons or something, well, I can try to learn to love again. It won’t be like the first time, but what is?