Fugger: Lady Gaga

Grammy Awards Whatever Non-Carpet: Lady Gaga


It’s probably a bad sign for Lady Gaga that I woke up this morning, and was thinking about the Grammys, and the BAFTAs, and Fashion Week, and what I had on my plate for today, and who we still needed to cover here on GFY and it took me FOREVER before I even remembered she was at the Grammys. Girlfriend didn’t win, perform, or present any awards. She also didn’t even walk the red carpet. Is it possible that she knew it was Adele’s night and decided to lay low, given that last time she laid, instead, an egg? Or is she just running out of steam? Let’s take a look.

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New Fug’s Eve


Screw flying cars or hoverboards: When it was 1982, or 1992, or even maybe 2002, I’m sure we all assumed that in the grand and distant year of 2012, the mayor of New York would be kissing a lady whose bejeweled cranial satellite probably gets nice NFL Sunday Ticket reception. Welcome to the future.

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Little Fugsters


Believe it or not, this is also what I like to wear for all MY holiday travel. The hair buns double as a  travel pillow!

[Photo: Splash]

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Well Played Cover, Lady Gaga


I am totally prepared for you guys to think I’m crazy — I might think I’m crazy, given that I am loudly and often OVER Lady Gaga. But I think this cover is divine. It’s retro, glamorous, eye-catching, and over the top, and we can SEE HER FACE. She looks like a person, rather than, say, a speculum or a lemon meringue pie or a futuristic sombrero or a gyro or a crockpot or whatever the hell else she decides to dress like half the time.  And it looks like the magazine you’d be reading in those day dreams where you’re having a summer weekend at an English country-house, one that you spend flirting with some dreamy second son of Lord Someone Or Other whilst wearing a fabulous hat and drinking a martini out by a fabulously tiled pool. In the 1930s. But without the depression. So, you know, on the BBC. In other words: SOLD.

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Fugly Gaga


These two outfits really could not be more different, other than the umbilical cord of lunacy that yokes them.

 

This is perfect for the demure crackpot in your life, who loves Scarlett O’Hara and yearns for the day when it will be socially appropriate to host a Civil War Ouija Board party.

Don’t worry, she’s not covered for long

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The Fug Monster


On the other hand, if it rains, she’s COVERED.

No pun intended.

[Photo: Splash]

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