Fug File: washed out

The Fug Bunny

OH RUMER WILLIS. I can’t say I am a huge fan of yours, but I don’t have a cauldron full of hot, strong hate for you or anything. In fact, one could say I am neutral. Speaking of:




Rilo Fugley

It’s been over three years since I last solo-fugged Jenny Lewis of Rilo Kiley on this site (she got nailed once more in 2007, but she was being upstaged by the zombified lunacy of Milla Jovovich’s former business partner). The basic facts have not changed: I still love her music. I still fondly remember her from her youthful stint on Brooklyn Bridge. I still want to know whether “Does He Love You?”, a.k.a. the “Whoops, I Slept With My Best Friend’s Husband” song, is based on anything that actually happened. And I still scratch my head sometimes at what she puts on her adorable self.

It starts out fine — odd, a bit dishwater-colored maybe, but unremarkable either way. And then…

Please understand, I stared at this photo for twenty minutes trying to figure out what the hell is happening here. It seemed like a transparent sheath over some kind of flesh-toned unitard from hell, the likes of which I’d expect to see on a Cirque du Soleil acrobat, or one of the Whos down in Whoville, maybe. I gazed and I frowned and waxcrangled and blowned. And finally, RIGHT as I was about to type a lengthy bewailing of the noxious bodystocking, my eyes clicked into gear and I realized the illusion of a crotch under there actually comes from those lacy details that are sewn up the middle of the dress. So, on the pro side, Jenny Lewis is unlikely to hoist herself up by the seat of her pants and take leave of this place through a hole in the sky without leaving a trace, a la The Lorax, but on the con side, her moneymaker appears to be barfing ruffles. In all, still a tragedy, I think.


10 Things I Fug About You

So I guess, in the case of Julia Stiles, the “W” stands for washed out.

Tony Awards Fug-or-Fab Carpet: Laura Linney

Laura Linney is fabulous, of this we are all aware. A fine actress, indeed. The sort of woman with whom you could easily spend a companionable hour trapped in an elevator, yes. Someone who almost always looks cleanly chic but seems like she could tell a good dirty joke, of course. But while I am enamored of her in general, I don’t know how I feel about this little number:

The dress itself isn’t ghastly, but the color does her no favors. In fact, I have the feeling that her makeup artist took a look at her in this and muttered to himself, “I’m gonna need a bigger bronzer brush.” Then he gave up right around her chin. But why, Laura? Why? Why, when you could have just worn…something that wasn’t exactly the color of your flesh? WHY?


Fug and the Fuggy: Part Bajillion

Far be it from us to let Cynthia Nixon be the only Sex and the City star to escape our microscope.

Nicole Kidman taught us all a lot of valuable lessons about fair skin and blonde hair and white dresses that look like nightgowns. I wish Cynthia had been paying attention. She looked so good at the other events, and while this isn’t, say, a DISASTER, it also looks like she’s waiting impatiently at the bus stop for her friendly son Casper to get off the Ghost Bus and tell her all about his day at school.


Project Fugway

Disclaimer: I believe — and this will not be controversial — that Heidi Klum has great legs. They are an international treasure. She should not be ashamed of them, and if I could have mine amputated and replaced with hers, I would happily do it even if it meant selling my kidneys.

However, if I were Heidi Klum and I were at a Gucci event that took place at the United Nations — hosted by Madonna and benefiting UNICEF — I might consider wearing more than a glorified shirt.

This reminds me of that scene in Clueless where Cher tells her skeptical father of her white micro-mini, “It’s a dress,” and her dad Dan Hedaya replies, “Says who?” And Cher replies, “Calvin Klein!” I am assuming Gucci helped outfit Ms. Klum-Seal, and I kind of want to remind her that just because Gucci claims it’s a dress, that doesn’t make it so. When she sits down at dinner it’s going to look like she’s on the commode. I find myself HOPING she’s got a pair of hot pants under there, and I generally NEVER hope for hot pants unless they’re associated with a Baby Phat show or an episode of Passions in which Tabitha turns everyone into pieces of clothing in a stripper’s closet. Having legs for days is a blessing, but that doesn’t mean you can’t take at least ONE of those days off, know what I mean?

Apparently it was catching. Behold Gwyneth Paltrow, generally someone who appears to take herself way too seriously to let much of anything hang out:

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