Fugger: Gwyneth Paltrow

Fugneth Paltrow


There is something about this photo that I love.

[Photos: Splash News]

It’s as if Gwyneth has just swept imperiously past the top-hatted doorman and he’s staring after her, puzzled and hurt, because all he asked was if she’d had a good day and whether her lunchtime lentils and tree bark were cooked to perfection, and she blew right by so she could get upstairs and write a GOOP post about the lost art of genuflection.

If we were all to bow down to Her Highness of Lifestyle Wisdom, though, we’d come face to face with those curious shoes. And I can’t decide if that’s a good thing. Let’s go in for a closer look that doesn’t require us to get our noses dirty on the pavement:

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The Fugneth Dialogues II: Fugquin and Fugneth


GWYNETH: Hi, Jack!

JOAQUIN: Who is Jack?

GWYNETH: You’re not… oh, sorry, sir, I thought you were Jack Black preparing for a role in some kind of movie about the Amish. My mistake! A thousand apologies.

JOAQUIN: It’s okay, Gwyneth. I understand if you didn’t recognize me. I’m a rapper now.

GWYNETH: I’m sorry, do we know each other?

JOAQUIN: It’s me, Gwyneth. Joaquin Phoenix. From Gladiator. And Walk The Line.

GWYNETH: Ha ha ha, you are such a kidder. You think I’m going to fall for any old name now that I’ve screwed up once? Nice try, mister.

JOAQUIN: Quills? Signs? Inventing The Abbotts? Ring any bells?

GWYNETH: Well done, trickster, you’ve memorized Joaquin’s IMDb page. Clever prank. Now please disengage from me.

JOAQUIN: Listen, lady, why would I lie? You’re wearing plastic Mom shorts and giant grey hooves. Why would I want to impress you?

GWYNETH: …. You’re RIGHT! It IS you, Joaquin!

JOAQUIN: No, I’ve lost interest now, it’s too late. Be gone. You will be hearing from my lawyers, to make sure that it’s okay that I pour my feelings about this encounter into a new rap song.

GWYNETH: Not if Coldplay beats you to it. GAME ON, furry little man.

JOAQUIN: GAME ON.

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Fugta and Fugneth


GWYNETH: Come on, ladies, stand up straight. Be demure. My suit demands it.

COURTENEY: Guess what? I’m 44. And I’m HOT.

RITA: WHERE THE LIDO DECK AT, BITCHES?

GWYNETH: Now now, Rita, let’s not be crass. I don’t believe in such flashy impropriety.

COURTENEY: Excuse me, Legs McTinyskirts? You spent all summer in skirts that were shorter than my pinky finger. You wore one to the Grammys the other night. Now you put on ONE suit and you’re an 80-year old etiquette mistress?

RITA: TWO-FOR-ONE DAIQUIRIS WILL HELP!

COURTENEY: Seriously, Gwyn, that suit is all wrong — here, take another look at yourself in it:
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Fug the Cover: Gwyneth Paltrow


We just got an email about this cover from a reader, who noted that she’s totally going to wear this into work tomorrow. Which is funny, because I wore my quasi-doublet and my shortie pantaloons YESTERDAY.  The thing is, I get that this is “THE FASHION ISSUE” and ergo the cover must be devoted, not to fashion or even Fashion, but to FASHION, which leads to….you know, boxer shorts-esque shortie short bloomers and a half-fantastic/half-inspired-by Mickey-Mouse-ears jacket that is one of those things where you’re like, “yes, I grasp the fabulousness while also recognizing that it’s kind of ridiculous and literally no one, NO ONE could wear this for real ever and therefore it sort of has no point and is like the clothing version of a tree not making sound if it falls in the woods and there’s no one to hear it,” but my question is, if you’re going to be putting someone in your Tree Falling In the Woods outfit, wouldn’t you rather have, like, Linda Evangelista? At the very least, she could pose without losing her neck.
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Fug Lovers


I don’t know if any of you have signed up for Gwyneth Paltrow’s new lifestyle newsletters on her hideously named Web site, GOOP, but they are hilarious in ways that I do not think she intended them to be. They’re all basically about how she is pretty sure she’s really interesting and has a lot to teach — Martha Stewart crossed with Oprah’s Favorite Things, multiplied by that random friend you have who won’t let you finish your stories before she tries to interrupt and one-up you with her more profound experiences. They come out every week, and tell us all about how to “nourish what is real” by eating non-dairy buckweat pancakes, staying slim (summary: do not eat anything white), clothing ourselves (save money by wearing your $1200 Louboutin shoes with a Topshop dress!), and buying “off the beaten track” kitchen stuff from… Williams-Sonoma.

The one about her wardrobe was the best, because it came with all these catalogue-style photographs of her wearing certain things and trying to do her best commercial poses, but usually it just looks like Gwynnie No. 1 is staring serenely down at Gwynnie No. 2, and pitying her slightly because No. 1 is wearing a YSL belt and tragique No. 2 is not. And yet, I ask you: Would you take wardrobe advice from a person who thought this looked good?

About the only tips I’d take from a person in this dress would be for quick stain-removal. Now if you’ll excuse me, staring at her collarbone is making me want to go make a giant sandwich out of everything white that’s in my kitchen.

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The Fug Lovers


Aw, HELL NO:

I feel like this is one of those things where we’re all supposed to be like, “Oh GWYNNIE. So FABULOUS! So FRESH! I MUST HAVE IT! YES! YES! ALLOW ME TO FALL INTO A PAROXYSM OF JOY RE: YOUR FABULOUS FASHION-FOWARDITY,” and instead we’re really all like, “dude, nice underwear. Also, are those socks? LAME.”
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