Fug File: I'm Scared

Daytime Emmy Awards Fug Carpet: Stacy Haiduk


Stacy Haiduk is rapidly becoming one of my favorite red-carpet sightings, from the time she brought a stuffed cat as her date, to this wackstrocity. And now, a year removed from The Great Mr. Kitty Hilarity of 2009, she might be trying to normalize a bit:

But it’s not working. A woman who clearly pumps that much iron should be able to find a dress that doesn’t do that to her chest. Because surely she can scare any salesperson or stylist into bringing her something that fits; otherwise, what’s the point of having neck cords that could grate cheese? Unless she WANTED it to look like her torso is melting, in which case, perhaps she is going a little loopy after a year of playing a madwoman, and somebody needs to stage an intervention. Somebody, possibly, who is wearing a protective suit of some kind, because the last time I saw someone confront a woman with guns like that, it was Linda Hamilton in Terminator 2, and … well. 
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Met Ball Fug Carpet: Elizabeth Banks


I have had such a roller coaster relationship with Elizabeth Banks. I got all het up over her about a year ago because she gave this truly obnoxious interview in which she kept waxing poetic about how she couldn’t lie about what a tremendous advantage is was for her to be SO VERY BEAUTIFUL, and I was like, “bitch, please. You’re real good-looking, but this is LA. We have homeless people with exquisite bone structure.” But then she landed on 30 Rock and she really is so funny on it, that I softened my rage-y stance.

But now it’s back. All this back and forth is giving me a headache, Elizabeth.

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Live Through Fug


Memo to Courtney Love:

[Photo by Splash]

We already have a Lady Gaga. And I can hear what you’re saying: You were Courtney Love before there even WAS a Lady Gaga. But that is also my point, Courtney. Why are you adapting the Wacky Face-Obstructing Headgear/Makeup Reminiscent of Raging Conjunctivitis look so beloved by La Gaga when you already have a very visible brand yourself? (That brand being, in general, [ALLEGEDLY] Cracked Out Pirate Wench.) You do YOUR brand so well, my dear, why go half-ass Gaga, when you can go full-on Courtney? Especially when Gaga is going so FULL-ASS Gaga her own self. See?

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Grammy Awards Pre-Fug and Telecast Fug: Ke$ha


I’m not sure why the universe wants me to care about Justin Bieber, but I do — just not in the way it thinks.

My interest in him is limited ONLY to being concerned about how young and vulnerable he looks standing next to someone who looks like she was plucked out of a dumpster, spritzed with Lysol, and cast in Saturday Nightstick Fever: The Tonya Harding Gillooly Story.
It must be in Ke$ha’s contract that she’s to look as squinty and psychotic as possible at all times:

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Grammys Fug Universe: Lady Gaga


I just told Heather that I don’t know if I possess the right words — or enough of them — to describe the cornucopia of looks paraded by one Miss Lady Gaga last night. (She’s Miss Gaga, because I might get nasty.) I swear, I might just devolve into strings of adjectives. For example:

This is…futuristic prom rave murder sparkle cable installation.

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My Milkshake Brings All the Fug to the Yard


No “Milkshake” pun intended, but please drink in Kelis:

Parenthetically, I have a great fondness for her, due to the fact that when “Milkshake” was a huge hit, I was sharing an office with my friend Grant and we used to turn around and sing it to each other ALL THE TIME. That was the same time that he and I were planning our imaginary soap opera and let me tell you, that thing was CRAZY OVER THE TOP and also genius. I can’t wait until it becomes reality and you all get to see the episode where…well, I don’t want to spoil it, but there are ninjas and holograms at a wedding. Honestly, I feel like Kelis would fit right in.

As far as this ensemble goes, dear readers, I am speechless. The very thought of trying to EXIST while wearing this is boggling to me. I am no stranger to suffering for my outfit but HOW DO YOU PEE IN IT? Also, how do you put it on? And how will you take it off without removing many, many important layers of skin? And how do you not fall over in these shoes? Because, let me tell you, were I somehow wearing this, I would have tumbled into the bushes, where my very slick catsuit would have afforded me no friction, leading to my rolling down the sidewalk and into traffic and under the wheels of a bus and, essentially, what I am saying is, I am quite sure this ensemble would have murdered me. So maybe we all need to give Kelis a round of applause for making it out of the house alive.

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