Fug File: I'm Scared

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.


Scent of a Fug

Coming this fall:

Al Pacino IS Cosmo Kramer in Who Told You to Put the Balm On? The Cosmo Kramer Story, Tuesdays at 10pm, only on NBC.


Fug Fug Fug Fugged Fug

These Lindsay Lohan pieces are starting to write themselves.

It all starts with a gallery of pictures on pretty much any site, called something like, “Lindsay Lohan [insert variation on "staggers"] out of [insert name of Hollywood club] looking [insert synonym for deranged, sad, or 'the worse for wear.']”

[Photo: PacificCoastNewsOnline.com]

Then comes the part where I throw up my hands and decry her lack of pants, and how she looks rumpled and tragic — here, because she looks like she just bedded a pirate and then stole his wardrobe for the walk of shame.

Next up, of course, is the obligatory jump to a closer look at her face:

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CMA Awards Fug Carpet: Nicole Kidman

KEITH URBAN: Psst. Nicole?


KEITH: Things had been going so well.

NICOLE: I don’t understand. Isn’t this color so lovely? Isn’t this dress pretty?

KEITH: Yes, but…

NICOLE: And isn’t my hair redder than it’s been in years?

KEITH: Totally, which is…

NICOLE: Then what? What more do you people want from me?

KEITH: How about circulation in your boobs?

NICOLE: I don’t know what you mean.

KEITH: That might be because you can no longer feel them.

NICOLE: But isn’t cleavage sexy?

KEITH: Not when it looks a mangled stress toy.

NICOLE: WELL. I wasn’t going to say anything about how you’re wearing a shirt that’s unbuttoned to your sternum — AGAIN — but since you’re being all huffy…

KEITH: Nice try. But people expect to see my waxed chest. They DEMAND IT.

NICOLE: Riiiight.

KEITH: But they DON’T expect YOUR chest to look like it melted while you were sleeping.

NICOLE: Can we just go inside and get this over with? Now that you mention it, I DO feel like my boobs are about to burst.

KEITH: The open bar will fix that.

NICOLE: Bless.


Fug Lieutenant: I Don’t Feel Like Looking Up the Bad Lieutenant Subtitle

So, can we assume that Eva Mendes has flown the Rachel Zoe coop? Because no matter what you may say about RZ — insert a lengthy screed here that includes the words, “literally,” “I die,” “skinny,” “bananas,” “sandwich,” and “caftan” — I don’t know that she would actually do this to anyone:

Sister, that is a lot of sideboob and while I’m not opposed to the sideboob in theory, like a nuclear warhead it must be deployed with great caution and only in the most serious of circumstances. Sure, that level of boob poking out from a button-down is fine if you’re in a shaving cream commercial wearing your husband’s shirt and gazing at him while he shaves, thus proving that Mac117 or whatever not only removes hair from one’s face but is also A BABE MAGNET. And it’s fine if you’re playing the role of Teacher in any kind of Hot for Teacher Scenario. And of course it works when you’re in the midst of shaking out your hair and taking off your glasses in a ploy to elicit a, “why, Miss [Whatever], you’re BEAUTIFUL” in a B-movie from back when people said things like,”why, Miss [Whatever], you’re BEAUTIFUL.” But I think Eva here would be well-served by maybe buttoning ONE more button. Because instead of being sexy, from the front this thing turns into kind of a mess:

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The Celebrity Fugprentice

Carol Alt is in great shape but OH MY GOD LADY PUT IT AWAY.

That is not a top. That is a BRA. And in comparison to the totally innocuous jeans and coat, it is DEEPLY ALARMING to look at the place where a SHIRT should be and see FULL-ON, FREDERICK’S OF HOLLYWOOD UNDERWEAR. The only explanation I can think of for this is that, in a Seinfeld-like scenario, one of Carol’s friends gave her undergarments in a passive-aggressive move to force her to wear some, and this is how she retaliated.

And you know what happens when you go out wearing a bra with no top:

YOU’RE FLOUTING SOCIETY’S CONVENTIONS, CAROL. I can’t really say it any better than Jackie Chiles.