Fugger: Dakota Fanning

The Fugaways


This is at Rodarte, and ergo, I assume it IS Rodarte:

Which just solidifies the fact that I really can’t go there with Rodarte. She looks like she’s a cocktail waitress in a Jetson’s-themed bar. At a Howard Johnson’s. In the 70s. On the moon.

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Fug the Cover: Dakota Fanning


I’ll take Cover Concepts That Gross Me Out for $500, Alex.  Among the many, many phrases I never EVER needed to have associated with SEVENTEEN YEAR OLD Dakota Fanning are: “His Best Sex Ever,” “Too Naughty To Say Here: But You Have to Try This Sex Trick,” and — WORST HEADLINE OF THE YEAR SO FAR — “Um, Vagina, Are You Okay Down There?” Let us all just take a moment to drink that one in: “UM, VAGINA, ARE YOU OKAY DOWN THERE?” SOMEONE WROTE THE WORDS, “UM, VAGINA,” AND SOMEONE ELSE DECIDED TO PUT THE WORDS, “UM, VAGINA” ON THE COVER OF THE MAGAZINE.  Um, personally, I hope anyone who says that to her vagina gets the shock of her life when her vagina responds, and tells her to get a) a grip and b) better reading material.

Now, here’s the thing. Of course seventeen year old girls are reading Cosmo surreptitiously, and I guess we should all be happy that Dakota’s not flashing massive cleavage or anything. Other than the fact that I think they’ve made her look much more generic than she actually is – which is a time-honored Cosmo tradition — she looks fine. But the idea that Dakota Fanning, whose parents and handlers have, to this point, done a masterful job of keeping on the refreshingly wholesome path, has her head right next to HIS BEST SEX EVER really irritates me. Because Dakota Fanning seems — and whether she actually is, or isn’t, is her own business — like a smart, classy,  girl. She’s never come off cloying or phony or tacky to me, and that kind of branding on your 17 year old starlet is FREAKING GOLD. I can not understand why you’d monkey with it by sandwiching her between UM VAGINA and HIS BEST SEX EVER. There are all kinds of ways to seem more mature, if that’s what they’re going for, than sticking your blow-out right next to UM VAGINA. In short: Why didn’t anyone point out to Dakota Fanning that Dakota Fanning is TOO GOOD FOR THIS?

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Celebs at Rodarte: Fugs and… well, more Fugs


We had a keen feeling we’d see a Fanning at Fashion Week; we just didn’t correctly predict where. Rodarte is one of those lines that always puts on an interesting show, but whenever I see one of the outfits on somebody, it makes me scratch my head so hard I lose a layer of skin. Let’s take a squizz at what everyone in the front row wore — well, you’ve already seen Beyonce’s baby bonnet — and applaud Solange for leaving on the J.Crew blouse she’d put on earlier in the day, because when it’s cute, KEEP IT.

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Met Ball Fugs and Fabs: Young Hollywood Edition


We already covered Kristen Stewart, but there were a host of other up-and-comers among the younger set who got to call themselves Met Ballers. Among them: Fug Nation favorite Hailee Steinfeld, repeat offender Mia Wasikowska in something predictably dark and large, and the above-pictured Saoirse Ronan in possibly the most cracky ensemble of them all. It’s like a hybrid of a newscaster and a mother of the bride who also runs a blazer empire. I’m sure that person exists. I want to believe it. THIS IS AMERICA, DAMMIT.

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Dakota Fugnning


Oh, Dakota. You are so much better than this.

You are DAKOTA F’ING FANNING. You could act your way out of a paper bag! You could act your way out of a Hefty bag! You could act your way out of a Samsonite suitcase that had been mauled by a gang of bike locks! Don’t tell me THIS, a thick drop-waisted wedding gown last seen in an original high school play called Child Bride: Death of a Soul, is the one sack out of which you could not act yourself! Find a way! Find it now! But please, find it in the ladies’ room, because that would be awkward.
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SAG Awards Fug Carpet: La Fanning


An open letter to the Fanning family:

Dear Fannings:

Congratulations! Nice job on the DNA — you popped out one very talented young girl, and apparently her sister isn’t awful either. You two are the Richard and Oracene Williams of child actors, although hopefully without the once-crippling sibling rivalry that would lead to speculation in 10 years that Dakota totally threw her performance in the remake of Armageddon because you both felt it was Elle’s turn for Oscar recognition (which she would then choke and fall short of by failing to nail down the appropriate amount of grief during her starring turn in the remake of Pearl Harbor).

At any rate, well done. But you have got to stop dressing Dakota like one of those Madame Alexander dolls that were super popular back in the late 1970s and early 1980s. [They might well still be popular, but as dolls come in second only to clowns in unbearable creepyness, I have stopped keeping track.] I mean, look at her up there. She’s a March sister on the verge of spinsterhood. I know she’s eerily wise beyond her years, which will either come in handy when she’s an adult and has to make her own life decisions, or come back to bite you in the ass when she marries a backup dancer with unsinkable seed and uncleansable seediness. But I do think she needs to have a bit more fun. Luckily we can’t see any bloomers here, but I don’t trust that they’re not there. Unless she just walked off the set of a Bugsy Malone-style remake of The King And I, then that sort of garb is a wee bit old for your still-young child. She only has the eyes of a 30-year old, people. Let her look her age.

Sincerely, and also, props for keeping her from getting really messed up after her little-seen first-ever movie role in the Jerry O’Connell-Jake Busey-Shannon Elizabeth instant classic Tomcats,

The Fug Girls

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