Fugger: Pippa Middleton

Fug and Fab Some Royal And Royal-Adjacent Hats


Kate Middleton really needs to be taking the bump out more. That child NEEDS photos of the hats it wore in utero.

[Photos: Getty, WENN]

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Pippa Fuggleton


I find is somewhat hilarious that Pippa’s been TOTALLY AWOL until…the day after the Olympics. I like to think that at some point in mid-June, Princess Anne and Camilla burst into Pippa’s apartment (wearing rubber masks in the likeness of the Queen) and shoved her into a laundry bag, which they then dragged to Camilla’s royal apartments,  where they proceeded to lock Pips in the coat closet until the end of the Closing Ceremony. “You are NOT going to ruin the Olympics for us with any kind of stupid shenanigans,” they said in unison as they locked the closet and positioned a flesh-hungry Doberman outside its door.

But eventually they had to let her out:

I kind of feel like she pulled this outfit together with random stuff she found in the back of said closet, though. Girlfriend, you could have gone home first.

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Fabs and Fehs of Wimbledon’s Spectators/Gala


LOADS of people came out to watch Federer v. Murray this weekend, and who could blame them? What a match! Not to mention that Murray was classy and charming and such a tremendous good sport in defeat. I might have cried a little bit during his speech, and I absolutely wanted to hug him. (I still love you, too, Roger; you are ALSO charming and classy and sportsmanlike, and also your hair is looking fantastic and your little girls are adorable.) Let’s look at all the half-assed shots we managed to get of what everyone was wearing, and take a (fully-assed) peek at the winners. Can’t wait to head back to Wimbledon in a couple of weeks for the Olympics. Until then….

[Photos: Getty]

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Middletonly Played, Pippa Middleton


Shall we check in with Middleton The Younger? Parenthetically, we’re observed this about Pips before, but how WEIRD it must be for her that, just because her sister married some famous dude and her ass looked great at the aforementioned wedding, some rando is waiting in the bushes to take a picture of her walking to buy, like, tampons. Is this going to happen to my little sister when I marry Prince Harry in a totally scandalous Vegas elopement, or will the British tabloids be too busy having collective aneurysms over his 36-hour marriage to a loudmouth cranky American blogger that ends in a knock-down, drag-out fight over my staunch refusal to wear pantyhose no matter what his grandma says, and his horrified discovery of my legal age (One Billion)? We should find out in approximately three weeks. Until then…

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London Fashion Week Fugs and Fabs — Except, Mostly Fugs


This is the week where, now that the Emmys are finally behind us and we can breathe again, we start scrambling to figure out what the heck we missed while we were underwater. Poor London Fashion Week. It’s already sort of the forgotten child in the family, clumsily bridging the end of New York and the beginning of Milan, like the sorbet of fashion fests. (Parenthetically, I don’t know how these editors do it — we’re wiped out enough just after New York.) But it brought us some Kristen Stewart, some Naomi with confusing zippers, more SWINTON, a handful of Kelis, and of course PIPPA!!!!111!1! Although frankly, I’m sort of glad the PIPPA!@!#!!!!!@!#?!! obsession is relaxing. It was just a dress, folks. It was just a bum. Let her breathe. Heavily, into Harry’s ear. WHAT? Come on, you’re all still sorta hoping for that, admit it.

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Middletonly Played, Pippa Middleton


We admit it: We were avoiding the other Middleton sister because we had Pippa fatigue, ever since we woke up after the royal wedding all-nighter to find out that she’d basically been proclaimed Britain’s First Derriere and that her bum had its own Facebook page. In fact, I suspect Pippa herself had Pippa fatigue after a while, although I only feel that way because the idea of going for a jog along the Thames with cameramen documenting my every huff and puff seems really unappealing to me, and thus I am projecting my feelings. When in fact this might all be delighting her to no end, especially because it means Hot Harry has access to countless photos of her prodigious leg muscles, and maybe a girl doesn’t go running along the Thames if she’s England’s Most Famous Ass(et) unless she wants it documented. I don’t know. But anyway. Where was I? Right:  After Kate’s big North American tour, we wondered if it was time to check in on what’s been up with Pippa since she had to return to regular life. The results? She has picked up her life much as she left it, except with more cameras. Let’s take a look — although sans jogging photos, because really, the girl might just have wanted to burn off a Cadbury’s Flake or two, so I’ll give her that much privacy at least. I’m so kind.

[Photos: Splash News, Pacific Coast News]

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