This may have been one of my favorite Fug Madness years ever. First, somehow, even though we obviously tried to seed this as best we could, the field felt very level in parts. Second, we had some thrilling battles that came down to the wire — The Kards vs. Nicki Minaj will live in infamy for, oh, at least another two days — and some shocking early upsets, like Heidi Klum going out in Round One and the Jenners not even making it to the Sweet 16. Third, we had two finalists who’ve never made it that far before, and one — No. 8 Dascha Polanco — who set a record for the lowest seed ever to make it to the end. The previous one? No. 6 Mischa Barton in 2011, who lost to Taylor Momsen.
And this one was contested, too, with the leaders swapping spots for a while before the eventual winner grabbed the lead and held onto it. Honestly, the last time I’d looked at the poll, the other person was ahead, so I was surprised to peek at closing time and see that our Fug Madness 2019 champion is…
Rita! Congratulations! I honestly can’t believe this was your first time in the finals, because your body of work over the years has been extreme. I think you agreed, honestly, because how ELSE to explain how aggressively and constantly you left the house this year? You were JONESING, my dear.
Dascha Polanco put up a solid, fugly fight, but in the end I think quantity may have reigned — and you know what, that’s fair. Excluding the few I liked, Rita Ora’s stable of outfits is still, I believe, the largest we’ve ever had from one person. If that’s hyperbole, who cares. She earned the exaggerated laurel. She wore everything: bad pants, no pants, boots made of pants. Explosively see-through and minorly see-through and surprisingly see-through. Feathers and fringe and frills. Armpit vents and arm capes and an army of other offenses. Thirty of the 38 slides were of her, and they weren’t even all of it.
And in the Year of Our Lord 2019, with the eleventh Fug Madness bringing our wee competition into its second decade, it feels right that the person who ran off with this title is also someone who sucked the fug marrow from life.
Now, please, grab a Kleenex and gird yourselves for “One Fugging Moment.”
Many thanks to our GFY HQ Post-Production Guru Kevin. Lest you think this has ever become merely routine: When Kevin discovered certain photos matched perfectly to certain lyrics, but not if displayed in the proper elimination sequence, he a) got legitimately torn up about it, and b) wanted to chuck the whole structure and go non-linear, until I pointed out that he should not pull an all-nighter for no salary; c) decided yesterday afternoon to do that ANYWAY because he felt he could not live with the alternative. Gotta love a person who cares, AHEM, INTERN GEORGE. Anyway, if you notice anyone featured more than once, and earlier than they were eliminated, that’s why.
Thanks to all of YOU for making it so fun, even when the votes didn’t go the way you predicted or the way your heart pulled you. Stay vigilant, and we’ll see you in March of 2020. Except for how we’ll also see you here later today, and tomorrow, etc., but you feel me. Endings are hard to write. The End. THERE! I found one.