Fug File: reality TV

Fugtney Port


You know that whole fad of personalizing your credit card with a photo from your private stash — like, your kids with facefuls of birthday frosting, or your dog, or that time you rode a camel in front of the Great Pyramid?

I’m becoming concerned that it’s now being applied to leggings. In that sense we should be grateful Whitney did not choose, say, the face of Lauren Conrad, or a picture of Olivia Palermo blinking vacantly at her through a veil of enviable accessories. But listen, kid, if you’re going to turn your legs into monuments of that time the hills were alive with the sound of music, it means nothing — nothing — without the twirling nun.

[Photo: Splash]

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Top Fug All-Stars


It’s so cute when Padma thinks it’s 1993.

After all, I’m so young and unwrinkled in 1993. I could totally be talked into this! Well, except for the fact that even in 1993, wearing a duvet as a dress would get you the side-eye.

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Kim Fugphries


Good lord, Kimberly.

She looks like the Mother Superior of a rare order of nuns who live at The Convent of the Garden Party, where they do charitable work on each others’ pedicures and meticulously maintain a gazebo, a lily pond, a patio, and some caged pedestals where various NBA players are locked for weeks at a time. Vespers are every morning at the crack of dawn — so, 11 a.m. sharp — and you are to bring your own eyelash extensions, although the Bellinis are free. Celibacy is encouraged during that time of reflection, but not required, especially if nobody can see you.

Even Kourtney is like, “You’re getting this, right? You are. Thank God. Because this is happening.”

[Photo: Splash News]

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Fug or Fab: Olivia Palermo


We recently featured Olivia Palermo — whom we used to call Tragic P, for reasons I’ll explain in a second — in a very loud blue jumpsuit, and the reaction was a combination of “Egads” and “Somehow I can’t hate this on her,” on the theory that Olivia pulls off stuff that a lot of people couldn’t. Now, for those of you in need of an Olivia Palermo primer: She is an ex-socialite type who, for the ten minutes that Socialite Rank was a thing, caused a stir when the site claimed she’d written a letter to the major ranking socialites begging them to accept her. Then she got onto The City and was portrated as a shallow, unprofessional dimwit with an uncanny ability to accessorize. Now, I have no idea how much of ANY of that is true, EXCEPT the accessorizing thing. Girlfriend is aces at that. And frankly, given the choice between Olivia and the entire cast of Jersey Shore or any of those abhorrent housewives, I’d rather spotlight her quasi-fame simply because she makes very expensively interesting choices. And red-carpet fashion is nothing if not expensively interesting, right? Dive in with me.

[Photos: Flynet, Splash, WENN]

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The Fugty


Jessica and I have a safe word, of sorts, when we’re starting to complain to each other about the same old stuff. When we catch ourselves rehashing the same grievances that just get us worked up into a tired and cranky frenzy, we just look at each other and exhale and say, “Altoids,” and that covers it. Our mind meld is such that we have expanded it so that it basically says everything about anything, without either of us having to find the appropriate words. So I find it interesting that Altoids co-sponsored this event…

… because: Altoids. So much Altoids.

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Big Fugger


The Chenbot strikes again. And she’s in good company. Well, most weeks she is, but usually it’s a pointless endeavor to fug anyone who’s actually in the Big Brother house, because a) they are already clowns, and b) I think they must pipe in tainted air so that over the summer contestants will slowly lose both their sanity and their sartorial judgment. But Rachel and Daniele pulled out doozies this week. Still, it all starts with Julie. She is the alpha and the omega of this show’s wardrobe problems. My husband turned to me and said, “It would have been cheaper if she’d ACTUALLY just borrowed something from her mother every week.” He’s right, but it can’t have been much cheaper. Clearly this cost, like, $5. Enter and gawk.

ALSO: Fall TV is just around the corner. And it may SEEM like we watch everything, but we don’t. It’s not possible. We miss stuff all the time — daytime talk shows, Letterman and his ilk, the occasional reality show, stuff that’s not on The CW, etc. So we’re hoping you guys will help us out: If you see an outfit on TV in a given week that makes your soul hurt, snap a photo (hooray for smart phones) and send it to us — maybe with a helpful subject line, like, oh, I don’t know, I’m just spitballing here, but maybe, “The Worst Thing I Saw On TV This Week.” Just submit your photo — and it does have to be your photo, not snagged from someplace on the Internet — with whatever you’re comfortable running with it as a photo credit, be it Marty from Hill Valley, something cryptic like One-Man Hamlet, or that old chestnut, “Anonymous.” (We will not print your personal details willy-nilly.)  We may not run everything we get, but ideally, we’ll have enough stuff to royally fug the boob tube on the regular. Sound good? I hope so. If not, then you may never hear about this ever again. It’s the Internet equivalent of us putting up our fist, and getting no bump. What sad clowns we will be. Sniffle.

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