Fug or Fab: Claire Danes in Prada


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I’m so used to stressed-out Carrie Mathison that it always takes me a second to adjust to Claire Danes when she’s smiling — like, I keep thinking, “Something is off. WHAT IS IT? Oh, right, she’s not freaking out.”

But is that ALL that’s off? I actually really LIKE the dress — it’s loud and fun and fancy and festive. I just can’t decide if I think it’s drowning her out — she’s got on lipstick, she’s wearing bracelets, the black shoes are probably the right pick given everything that’s going on with the pattern… I DO find that crazy thing charming, so is this just more dress than she can survive? Or do I just need to recalibrate after being ping-ponged between the cool Cambridges and the crazy Coachella, and Emma Stone’s class and Rumer Willis’s crotch contours?

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Played: Kate, Wills, and George’s Royal Tour of Australia and New Zealand, Day Eighteen: Part II


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Today was a two-parter; you can find part one here.

For last night’s Cocktail Shindig Thingie (official royal terminology), Kate gave the old nod to Lela Rose, which is seriously surprising. I would have thought she’d have gone for an Aussie designer — Lela Rose is an American, and this feels like a really big get for her — and there was a rumor that she was going to wear Ralph & Russo at this thing (they did that insanely hot white dress Angelina Jolie wore during the World War Z junket, and I would literally send the Queen $20 if she’d let Kate wear that). ANYWAY, while I actually really like Lela Rose (her collection last September was deeply charming), I am not super into this. I know, you guys. I’m sorry. I mean, listen, Kate never looks straight out BAD, and I am sort of going back and forth on it, but the upshot is…I have some notes.

One of the notes is that I do enjoy seeing her hair up for a change (although let’s be real: if I had that hair I’d be swinging it around like a girl gyrating on the top of a car in a Motley Crue video all the time). But another note is that this feels somewhat Daytime Event to me. And I will say that while Kate’s classic style honestly appeals to me, I find that she’s good at daytime and good at evening, and sometimes sort of rando at these “cocktail” events: I was neutral on the Temperley she wore to one, and I disliked this Temperley she wore to another one AND I was undecided on THIS one. Huh. I hope this doesn’t mean that when Kate and I finally get together for cocktails I don’t blurt out, “I have notes on that outfit.” I plan to blurt out, “wtf are we going to do about Cressida, dude?”

[Photos: Getty]

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Well Played: Kate, Wills, and George’s Royal Tour of Australia and New Zealand, Day Eighteen, Part I


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The penultimate day! Tomorrow (today? Yesterday? I don’t even know what my name is right now) these two will make a couple more final appearances and then climb on the plane and head back to London where surely many a nap will be taken and many a yoga pant will be worn in secret. But today was very jam-packed: they planted trees with extremely cute twins, and gamboled in pods of some sort of playground ilk; then went to a reception, where they listened to/gave a speech respectively (the content of which, I believe, was basically, “thanks for having us! You are all DELIGHTFUL and our baby is awesome. See you soon!”) and pressed the flesh. Later tonight, they’re going to a party of some sort, so hold your breath for shit to get glamorous up in here — that event will get its own post, very possibly tomorrow morning, in part because it’s possible I might fall asleep before it happens, but also because…well, gowns.

Outfits? I can tell you: Kate wore a Catherine Walker coatdress, her second Catherine Walker of the tour, and Twitter reported that she told someone it was sweltering — I can believe it. I presume it’s in green for Australia, and mostly I keep thinking that I wish the person who helps her figure out what to wear and why would have a blog to explain to all of us, later, what the inspiration was behind each look,  because they’re thoughtful and I’m nosy. I like it very well, but, you guys, these shoes shall be the death of me. They must be extremely comfortable.  (I did, parenthetically, read that sometimes people get Botox in the balls of their feet to make wearing heels less painful and I swear if I were her I would do it. Botox in my pits to prevent sweat, Botox in my feet so I could stand. Just pump me full of botulism toxin, y’all.)

As for William, he actually changed when Kate did not. I know, right?

[Photos: Getty]

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Unfug It Up: Aluna Francis


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Aluna here is in a band called AlunaGeorge, which accounts for her presence at the Women In Music award.

And she is wearing underwear, which accounts for the white strip we can see underneath the filmy bits. I’m not sure what, exactly, explains the rest of it — the bracelets and lipstick are great, and there’s something pleasantly ethereal about the concept of the dress, but in practice it looks like a Project Runway Sacrilege Challenge in which they were required to rend a priest’s garments. Oh, and while I appreciate a non-nude shoe, those look like wet suits for her feet.

So, Fug Nation: Care to get creative with your imaginary toolboxes, or would you just sacrifice it all on the altar of bad fashion and start over?

[Photo: Getty]

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Fugs and Fines: Midriffs at the Elle Women In Music Party


Well, it’s not a TON of midriffs. But they’re there. Winking at us. Wanting us to talk about our feelings. Let’s oblige.

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Fug or Fab: Holland Roden in Erin Fetherston


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This feels very Zooey Deschanel to me — which makes sense, actually, as we once saw Zooey singing at an Erin Fetherston Fashion Show.

I’m not sure why I’m not sold on it. Her face looks pretty. Is the lipstick too light? Is the topknot too meh? Is it that there needs to be some edge to cut through the prim collar, twee flowers, blah cut, and teeny tiny doctor’s bag? Is it that I’ve spent a lot of time lately thinking about how my feet are NOT cut out for the minimalist shoe trend, and so I am not evaluating anything else with clear eyes, nor a full heart, and thus I will lose? Help.

Shake me out of my tree of ambivalence. Or something.

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