Fugger: Carrie Underwood

ACM Fug or Fab Carpet/Performance Hmmmm: Carrie Underwood


Of the approximately thirty country music awards shows, the ones that don’t let Carrie Underwood host are the most boring, because I enjoy her ten costume changes. Even Carrie seems like she had a little trouble drumming up enthusiasm, because seriously, WHAT is happening with her mouth? It’s like someone told her to tense it up, or something, as some sort of photo trick… whatever the intention, in the end, she just looks like a tremendously insincere rabbit (which I’m guessing is NOT the ideal, since the only bunny we care about this time of year is the cheerful one who hides chocolate in our house for us to find two months later).

Then again, knowing what was coming for Carrie later in the night, maybe this is just the face of trepidation. Why? You’ll see.

Is she pretty in purple?

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Fug or Fab or Unfug: Carrie Underwood


I guess Carrie Underwood is compensating for being under the radar lately by making sure at least her clothes have a lot happening.

There’s LACE! And RUFFLES! And a starfish mating with a sea anemone! Actually, she probably went with that nautical touch because she’s more than just a guest — she’s making her acting debut in Soul Surfer. Do we think this was to distract us in case she’s terrible? Or maybe she’s just announcing, “HELLO AMERICA, I’m BACK, did you MISS ME?” The thing is, I guess I kind of didn’t.

Would you leave this as-is, or take a magic wand to it and make it palatable? Or seize some major scissors and deface it to the point of forcing her to start from scratch?

Surf's up:

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Fug Madness 2011, Round One: Charo Bracket


(4) JENNIFER LOPEZ vs. (13) RYAN CABRERA

“Hola, lovers. We meet again in Crazytown, a.k.a. any competition in which I am not the winner automatically just because I am me, and me is fabuloso. I do not lie, lovers, this makes me go Angryface.

“I MEAN. Do I wear capes for nothing? NO, lovers, I wear them for YOU. Do I go all Swan Fake with no reason? No, lovers, it is about you. Do I wear a melting snowflake skirt of glory for fun? Yes, lovers. Because it is fun. But also no, lovers, I WEAR IT FOR YOU. And THIS is how you repay me? Making me fight for a victory against Baron Greasenipple Von Stachesuck?

It is not just a clever name, lovers

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You The Jury: Carrie Underwood at the CMAs


Ah, the CMA Awards — technically it stands for Country Music Association, but we know it as Carrie Makes Apantloadofwardrobechanges, because La Underwood hosts the telecast and routinely swaps dresses at least six times. In the past we’ve put her on mock trial for this glut of fashion, and this year will be no different. All rise: You are in the court of the great nation of Fug, with our guest judge the Honorable Bai Ling presiding. Let’s get this party started.

Exhibit A:
The prosecution would like to know just how many Party City stores Carrie had to raid in order to complete this dress; the defense IMMEDIATELY and vociferously objects until it’s clear that I just typed the word “Party” and not “Panty,” because Panty City is a completely different place altogether. Judge Bai announces that she once bought a condo in Panty City but left it because it didn’t have a helipad. The prosecution is momentarily flummoxed by this, so the defense jumps into say that the gown is kind of cool and ornate in a flattering, fun-to-ponder way, and that the only demerit would be that the bottom half doesn’t rip off to create a nifty cocktail dress. The prosecution recovers and points out that, YES, that is a demerit, because that would be hilarious, especially if said skirt then doubled as a cape. The defense is all, WHO ARE YOU, and Judge Bai suggests that we move on because cape rhymes with Snape and Snape doesn’t wash his hair. Everyone is pleased to leave that strange moment behind.
Exhibit B:

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Before Fug Cheats


I remember when Alicia Keys was doing things like this in 2004. And then I remembered that Carrie Underwood herself has been doing it for years as well.

Apparently she is stuck in a rut the size of the Civil War battlefield on which that coat’s forefathers were last seen. I’m also hypnotized by whether those are pants and sandals, or — what I suspect is the case — gladiator-leather shin-guards pulled up over capri pants. Regardless, the way they bump right up against the top of her coat’s mouth is super unflattering, and I suspect that somebody should visit the apartment she’s built in Ruttysberg and install a few mirrors.
Although, if somebody did that, we might’ve been deprived of this marvel:

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Carrie Fugderwood


I am in the awkward position of needing to write two letters at once, which contradict one another.
1) Dear Carrie Underwood: Since when are you Jenny Humphrey? Are you aware of where that rabbit hole leads? Please advise.
2) Dear Taylor Momsen: I call this “halfway.” Please meet me there. I’ll bring sandwiches.
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