I think you are all familiar with this week’s subject, and thus, probably won’t be surprised to see what kind of ensemble she’s wearing in this picture.
[Photo: PacificCoastNewsOnline.com]
THE FUGEE: Courtney Love. No resume required.
THE DETAILS: Yes, those are tie-dyed socks.
CHALLENGE: We’re bringing back one of our favorites: the acrostic poem, last deployed with Juliette Lewis and to hilarious effect. For those of you in need of a refresher, an acrostic poem is one in which the first letter or syllable of each line itself conveys a message or spells a relevant word. Like, writing one about Courtney that spells YEEEOOOW. It can be as short or long as you like. Clicking on those Juliette links will give you a ton of awesome examples.
THE REMINDER:
THE REMINDER:
You know the drill by now.
Each entry must be posted in the comments of this post, not sent to us by
E-mail.
Everyone can enter as many times as they like.
Ooooh, those socks are bad.
Oh Courtney, Fug Nation is going to let you have it.
Only other caveat is that they must all be posted by Sunday night at 10 p.m.
Only other caveat is that they must all be posted by Sunday night at 10 p.m.
West Coast time.
Comments (126):
Hippie clown socks? 9 dollars
Olde-timey knickers? 19 dollars 99 cents
Love-style doped up expression beneath fuzzy blue hat? Zero dollars
Effect? Priceless (and insane)
BURP!
Alright, I admit it: I left
The house drunk again.
So what?
Hiccough!
I’m unique! I’m a f@%kin’ rock star!
These socks were tie-dyed with tears I’ve
Cried and the stinky permanent markers I found
Right next to the yellow pills in my
Armoire–that’s French for HIDING PLACE!
Zippeeeee!
Yak! Ugh. At least I now smell like I look. Party on!
Courtney, love,
How many
Unlucky pirates
Met their ill fates in
Blackspotted stockings and
Untied shiny shoes?
Courtney, love, ye
Keelhauled Maid with
Empty picture frame –
Time to come ashore.
So you were the lead in a psychedelic pirate show?
And you stole the hat from a life-size Raggedy Ann?
Do try more subtlety if you don’t want publicity.
Dependably Bad, is Courtney Love
Everything she wears is always Fug
And this outfit is no exception to the rule
Those socks, that hat, her hair?
Has she even seen a mirror this year?
Wait! Is that one in her hand?
At least she can stand
Lost something m’dear?
Kurt Cobain joke inserted here!
She turn heads but the reasons are cruel.
For the love of all that is Holy
Removing one accessory
In imitation of Chanel
Perhaps will not help you look
Put together, but our
Eyes would appreciate the rest.
Really.
You look like a psychedelic bag lady.
Ouch.
I’m blinded.
All Aboard gawkers, game-players and gewgaws!
Hit the deck and genuflect! Commander Love now rules the high seas!
Oh what a beautiful morning it ’tis!
Ye Olde Crack Schooner is about to sail!
Crack pipes in hand?
Roger that.
Ay matey, don’t me “Mem’ries ‘o Haight Ashbury” leggin’s look fresh?
Cast the mainsail! Starch me knickers! Are me platinum sea kelp locks blowin’ in the wind?
Krazy? Methinks ’tis a wee bit possible.
I dunno…maybe I should just apply for a job at Colonial Williamsburg if this Psycho Pirate thing doesn’t work out…
Eh, what the hell, life is just a bowl of cherries!
So you’re the lead in a psychedelic pirate show now
And you stole your hat from a life-size Raggedy Ann
Do try more subtlety if you want no publicity
Dearest Courtney, you
Really must know, that
I can’t abide your
Perky chapeau. The
Peacoat’s all right,
Your hair is a fright,
Heaven help us from what lies below.
I don’t mind the dress, but
Please give a rest, to those
Pukesome stockings, you ho.
I’d also like a clue as to why you would wear
Easy Spirit jazz shoes.
One day, perhaps soon
Nuts who rant and rave and
Eat their fingers
Could rule the world!
Really, can you see it?
Assanine blonde rockers
Zipping about in their tye-dyes & babydolls
Yelling with drunken rage on a
Myriad of Twitter accounts and blogs.
Oh, the terror
From this future world!
Oh wait, it has begun!
One day, perhaps soon
Nuts who rant and rave and
Eat their fingers
Could rule the world!
Really, can you see it?
Assanine blonde rockers
Zipping about in their tye-dyes & babydolls
Yelling with drunken rage on a
Myriad of Twitter accounts and blogs.
Oh, the terror
From this future world!
Oh wait, it has begun!
Dearest Courtney:
One wonders what you were thinking.
Long straggly extensions,
Lovingly topped with a vintage shower cap.
Perhaps you have forgotten, but it has been
At least a decade or two since you perfected the
Raggedy-Ann-on-heroin-kinderwhore look.
Though we appreciate the new twist – or tie-dye, as it were;
Sometimes it is best to know when to quit.
Maybe you don’t understand.
All good waifs dress like this.
Ratty extensions, random headwrap.
Yellowing top over
Knickerbockers, tucked into
A pair of socks from Claudia Kishi’s
Tie-dye collection.
Everyone dresses like a ragamuffin tap-dancer.
¿Y ahora que?
Sorry! The anonymous at 9:28 a.m. was me. Forgot to enter my name.
When I catch a glimpse of
The crazy that is C. Love, I oftimes
Fall out my chair.
Gypsies, tramps and
Love… a new philosophy for Courtney’s life. But an
Overcoat and pantaloons? Don’t be a
Riot, grrrl!
You were the princess of grunge!
Hippie sockers
On a rocker?
Like Kathleen Hanna would stoop so low -
Even on “all the drugs in the world.”
Nerb: KUDOS for the Claudia reference, genius.
What have we here?
Aging rock star with extensions skull cap
Sucking a finger and wearing
Tie-dye socks and Tom Thumb shoes…
Each item of clothing
Disastrously conceived, Courtney.
Courtney,
Enlighten us
Love (HA! See what I did there?)
Enlighten us about the
Black knickerbockers and the parlor-maid’s dust
Ruffle on your head.
It also looks like you are
Trying to stifle a
Yawn (or possibly even a
Sneeze – but your
Kleenex is
In your other hand, you
Ninny!)
Believe it or not this
Lady used to be an
Entertainer.
Courtney Love is not a
Homeless bag lady
c
u
next
tuesday
Frumpy is an
Understatement. It’s more like
God-Awful!
Washed-up has-been still full of drama
Tie-dyed and often-fried
Forgets she’s someone’s mama
Oh no, look at how I dress,
Hell, I really do look like a mess.
Ho strollin’ down the street,
Onlookers checking out the socks on my feet,
Nobody rocks the crazy quite like me,
Everybody knows I’m what you want to be.
You know I look hot, hell, I even look fly,
Never looked better in my socks of tie-dye,
Oh hell yes, I’m the perfect mess.
Tie-dyed socks,
Running
Around
In
Newsie shiny oxfords.
What else do we spy?
Really 80′s pirate knickers,
Edwardian child’s
Chemise.
Kracktacular.
Truly, a lady
Raises her pinky when
Attempting to
Sip
Her invisible $2 wine in a bag.
The tie-dyed socks I can handle,
I’ve accepted the thing on your head,
Even the sack-o-dress is decent enough.
Yes, I’ve agreed to witness tie-dyed socks.
Only on you, Courtney, and
Under no circumstances on anyone else.
REMEMBER THIS, LOHAN.
Do me a solid, though, Courtney,
A little favor for a fan,
My patience is wearing on this mess,
Nearer to rage do I step.
Should you fall on your ass,
Hurled there by the shoelaces you won’t tie,
Oh, I will laugh.
Everyone will!
So be a normal adult and tie your damn shoes.
Fudgsicles!
Remembering how to dress is so hard!
A nightgown is
Not a shirt,
Courtney!
Everyone is staring at my
Shiny shoes,
Blindingly reflective, tuxedo shoes left behind by
Edward Norton.
And what small feet he has!
Not that I’m insinuating anything.
Mixing pills and liquor,
Although fun,
Never ends well.
Get help and a new path;
Everyone knows that without
Hole, there is no donkey show.
And honey, we need to have a chat
Regarding your
Precious Moments Doll look.
Your last piece of advice: conditioner.
So, you
Used to be a stripper?
I guess we should be glad your
Celebrity skin
Is under wraps.
Didn’t realise you’d end up in something
Even more degrading…
Bad hair day and a bad hat day;
Loons of a panty, you pantylunatic;
Overcoat, over kaftan, over the top;
Never mind the knee highs!
Don’t know how you will ‘live through this’ –
Even titty bars excude more dignity.
PS. I just want to put it out there that I ADORE C-Love, and so all mocking is done affectionately.
Courtney Love
Unrepentant purveyor of fug
Ratty extensions under sea foam cozy
Tie-dye knee highs with Founding Father flats
A muslin produce bag under a sailor’s peacoat
I guess we all just have to
Live through this.
I agree with Sarah Rogers.
I cannot tell you how many times I’ve sung “Celebrity Skin” on Rockband for Wii and “Doll Parts” will forever have a place in my heart.
I think we all want to be the girl with the most cake.
Dying
Your own clothes in back in fashion.
Ehh, not…?
How could one have missed that?
At some point CL should have knovn it’s not the 70′s.
Rare is not always good,
Darling.
Swaddled in crazy
Wrapped up in fug
A shitload of tie-dye
Makes even vomit look good
Poor Courtney
Desperation has led to
Our favourtie fug rocker
Nicking the rags from
Kiki’s gym locker
Even the angel wings would be better than this!
Yet that Courtney is lost, so we must reminisce
How many times do we have to tell you?
Or do you just smoke too much crack to care?
Those socks need to go, as do the extensions
My eyes hurt from this image
Even Frances Bean is ashamed to call you mom
Stop the drugs, stop the craziness, STOP THE MADNESS
So I can stop seeing your batshit crazy face and life plastered all over the gossip rags
Before Rachel Zoe,
And behind Mary Kate,
Goes the style those posers try to emulate.
Don’t forget – you can’t spell boho without hobo,
Or celebrate Mary Kate when Courtney Love you slate. At
Least in this world, full of faux-eccentricity,
Love can be congratulated for her authenticity.
Who is this Mary-Kate or
Ashley wannabe?
Cute in a way, and not filthy or naked, but holy
Kaleidoscope, Batman! Those socks!
Just saying “socks” doesn’t begin to describe the
Olde worlde hippy hose on covering yonder
Bundle of Celebrity Skin.
Matt: Doll Parts is my favourite! I’m actually seeing Hole (or what C-Love is calling Hole) in London in a fortnight… Fulfilling childhood fantasies!
Those socks are
Irritating me
Even though I thought I was a hippie in my
Day but that was the 90′s
You are no longer a teenager. I am
Exhausted from looking at this.
Hells-bells, Court. Are
Our eyes deceitful, or do you
Look as if you’re
En route to put your John Hancock on the
Declaration of drug dependence?
Sarah Rogers,
That would be a fun show. To make it more amusing, try to sneak in a flask and take a hit of whiskey every time she throws an F-bomb.
If she drops trou and shows off her doll parts, you have to polish off whatever’s left in the bottle.
Shazam! Blotto.
Once again, I am humbled by the badassness of the Fug Nation. I cannot possibly compete with these awesome entries. I’ll just admire from over here. Carry on!
Miss Muffet
And
Long John Silver
Insisted on
Being included
Unfortunately
Baggy Knickers
And Kurt’s old shoes
Dye job from hell
My hand smells like booze!
Overkill with the hat
My legs have odd hues
OUCH!
Old woman in
Ugly socks
Can’t find help
Hole broke up, no need to dress like trash!
Laughter is extinguished by hand on
Over-the-top
Victory in wearing tie dyed socks with
Exceptional granny bloomers on head
Indescribable
Sucky extentions borrowed from L. Lohan
Inexcusable
Nocturnal Rantings
Tumultuous
Horrific
Exsistance
Asinine entourage enabling you.
Irrational is what you’re about.
Ridculous HOLE in one are you.
Oftentimes I wonder
Must getting dressed be such a challenge?
Girlfriend appears to have
Shattered every mirror in her den of iniquity.
Even her shower cap is wilting and stained
Resisting, futilely, being partnered with
Icky tiedyed socks.
Oh yes. That’s right. Tiedyed socks.
Underneath – what are those, bloomers?
Sadly, though, this is standard practice.
Love, sweetie,
You gotta get some help.
Courtney
Revels in attention.
Acting like she is sane but not.
Zipping through life like a madwoman.
Yet cleans up in time to prevent a padded cell.
Bitter about the past? No.
Instead keeping us on our toes.
Taking time to dress to the nines.
Courtney
Hallelujah for you!
to bad westwood cant
cover your holly hobby
tim burton just called
Shiny tap shoes
Instead of
Docs
&
Nineteen seventy’s socks
Another
Nightgown for a dress
Courtney
You’re fuggin’ crazy.
Can you please make yourself
Obsolete
Underneath the tie-dyed socks
Radiates a crazy
That
Not even sedatives can fix
Eat a spaghetti sandwich or 7
You look more like a hobo than the Olsen twins
Are those
Really pant-a-loons
Encased by tie-dyed socks?
You really are
Out of your damned mind
Unfortunately (or fortunately) that
Head adornment
Is holding in your crazy thoughts
Get a mirror and new clothes and
Help us heal our burned retinas
Recipe for More Cake
Cross Miss Havisham with Janis,
Add a soupcon of Fosse,
Keep submerged in alcohol, and
Enjoy with a dollop of whipped crazy.
(There’s no acrostic, so don’t look. I didn’t follow the rules, but I hope the ghost of Poe doesn’t mind. She just reminded me of a Raven, so….)
Once upon a sidewalk dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious fashion of forgotten lore–
While I sipped coffee, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
“‘Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “Oxfords on the sidewalk floor–
Only this and nothing more.”
Camera here, I snapped the shutter, when, with many a yawn and flutter,
In there stepped a fugly Courtney of the grungy days of yore.
Not the least designer wore she; not a nice thing wore or owned she,
But, with socks of nineteen-sixty, perched above my chamber door–
Perched upon a bust of Cobain just above my chamber door–
Sniffed her finger, and nothing more.
This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the “singer” whose deadened eyes now averted from my bosom’s core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head simply shaking
O’er the torn t-shirt with daisies and stains gloated o’er,
But with velvet jacket covering and the fur hat crowning o’er
Hair not washed, ah, nevermore!
“Courtney!” said I, “thing of evil!–prophet still, singer or devil!–
Whether Thrift-store sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Walk of shame, yet all undaunted, on this sidewalk land enchanted–
On this home by Horror haunted–tell me truly, I implore–
Are those–tights, tucked into socks?–tell me–tell me, I implore!”
Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”
Wait I want a redo…
Bag
Ladies
Everywhere
Covet
Her look
Really honey?
One does not
Dress like that in public
Especially whilst twittering sanity claims.
Homages to Ben (Franklin) and Jerry (Garcia)
Are rarely seen outside of
Rehab and Phish shows
Discuss
Really honey?
One does not
Dress like that in public
Especially whilst twittering sanity claims.
Homages to Ben (Franklin) and Jerry (Garcia)
Are rarely seen outside of
Rehab and Phish shows
Discuss
Are those
Really pant-a-loons
Encased by tie-dyed socks?
You really are
Out of your damned mind
Unfortunately (or fortunately) that
Head adornment
Is holding in your crazy thoughts
Get a mirror and new clothes and
Help us heal our burned retinas
Pity Courntey
Oh, she tries so hard
On second thought she is covered up, but
Really, tie-dyed socks?
Frances is so ashamed
Rarely is she seen with her mom in public
And Courtney clearly misses her guidance
Not that she ever listened
Come on, is that an iPad?
Eeew, and pointy man-shoes?
Sniffles into the tissue…so sad.
Merkin4 – Hats off to you, you just blew this thing up. No, seriously, Court.. take your hat off. Amazing, well done!
And Matt – that drinking game sounds like the perfect method of getting me to Courtney-esque levels of crunk. I’ll drink it in one if she’s wearing those socks.
Lovely Courtney,
Are you high again?
Remember me? Larry Flynt?
Really, you should. That little movie made you “normal.”
Yet, it was not to be.
Fun it was,
Long ago, at the Oscars,
You, in a white dress. Showered. Clean. Without a crack pipe in sight.
Now you aren’t worthy of “Hustler.” You look like Jerry Garcia’s maid.
Tragic.
Clutching patent leather and sucking her thumb
On top of her head a blue honeycomb
Under a coat from a homeless person
Raggedy Ann, meet Thomas Jefferson!
Tie-dye hose with knickers, no less
Never has there been a more fugly mess.
Even Francis Bean said enough is enough
Your look is not helping me feel the Love!
Y ou’re wearing tie-dyed socks
O n purpose?
W ell, of course, you ARE Courtney Love.
Z OMG, I should just be glad your naughties are covered
A nd for that, I won’t even mention the bonnet…
Every afternoon I
Awake (in my makeup), and thank my muse,
Stevie Nicks, for her pioneering fashion sense.
I toss on a gypsy frock and break out the RIT: Purple #13
Lesser souls might shy from this hippy-Naval Officer hybrid
Yet I embrace these patent jazz flats, tie-dyed socks and shower-cap of…
Aqua Seafoam Shame
My mussed tresses and coquettish gaze fool you boring plebs, but
Unbeknownst to you, I’m giggling at YOUR outfits.
Silly people who never stripped in Japan or married a rock-n-roll icon cannot
Evade my eternal
Disdain
Every afternoon I
Awake (in my makeup), and thank my muse,
Stevie Nicks, for her pioneering fashion sense.
I toss on a gypsy frock and break out the RIT: Purple #13
Lesser souls might shy from this hippy-Naval Officer hybrid
Yet I embrace these patent jazz flats, tie-dyed socks and shower-cap of…
Aqua Seafoam Shame
My mussed tresses and coquettish gaze fool you boring plebs, but
Unbeknownst to you, I’m giggling at YOUR outfits.
Silly people who never stripped in Japan or married a rock-n-roll icon cannot
Evade my eternal
Disdain
My Dear Courtney,
I don’t know how to tell you this, but feel you
Should know.
So many bad fashion choices do not Miss World make.
We should talk.
Or perhaps you could just listen.
Really, I am the girl you know so sick I am of your fug I can not try. Can’t
Look you in the eye. Tie dye socks, my friend, I can not lie and lie and lie.
Do yourself a favor and look in the mirror. No need for breaking and burning.
My, what
Rainbow-bright
Socks you’re wearing,
Cutiepie.
Obviously, ground-
Breaking.
And the
IPad, too.
Nicely done.
Despite being tie-dyed
Old socks do not have new
Life when worn with
Layers of Renaissance- Faire
Pieces
And a
Ripped
Turquoise fur, or maybe feathered
Sash around your over-bleached head
Courtney, lay off the crack pipe and listen.
Ever notice how
Life imitates music?
Eleven years ago you yelled “Oh make me over.”
Beautiful garbage, beautiful dresses…
Remember that? Well now,
In 2010
Tie-dye socks remind me that
Yes, you were being ironic.
So you wanna be a walking study in demonology?
Know what? You win. But
If you wake up, in that make-up
Next time, use a mirror before leaving the house.
I was going to write one until the GENIUS Claudia Kishi reference sapped my will to compete…MAD PROPS
Daughter be damned, I’m stepping out
Ready despite my sanity drought
Until someone finds out where I left my legs
Gone into a strange psychedelic haze
So long as I keep my hat on, I can be out for days
You, my friend,
Unfortunately
Cannot pull off
Knee-high socks.
Your
Ugly as hell and
Catastrophic socks must go
Kaput!
I just had to point out that many of these acrostics are frikkin hilarious. Carry on.
Easily Amused Adam:
Love your post and would love to hear Courtney slur her way through such a sentence as, “My mussed tresses and coquettish gaze fool you boring plebs…”
I could I die happy if that ever were to occur.
Perhaps the toaster cozy on my head
Overpowers my kanekalon fiber weave?
Or are the socks too much? My stylist said
Rely on classics. Is that puke on my sleeve?
Fuck it. Ke$ha totally wears tie-dye.
Rock stars wear tie-dye! And jersey plus-fours!
Adderall makes me edgy. Where was I?
Now I am lost. Let’s see. Am I outdoors?
Court, you’ve got to think. Was it GrammyNight?
Elton and Gaga, ashes, sparkling blues…
Seems Pink was spinning wet, can that be right?
Because these might be Justin Bieber’s Shoes.
Either way I’m lost. My sore lip needs ice.
And where’s my kid? Hey man, you holding?
Nice!
To: Courtney Love
I’d like to share some thoughts with you.
Even if you
Don’t care to hear them. Is that an
Ipad you’re carrying?
Even my iphone has a Cher Horowitz
App that tells me if I match. Is that a
Little Miss Muffet Hat? The Dread Pirate
Roberts wants his shoes back. And those
Extensions? Worse than Miley’s.
All those
Drugs you’ve done and yet,
You’re still alive?
Love, you look so lost and befuddled!
I wish I could reach out and show you the way
Very few share your passion for delirium
Every accessory of yours seems to convey.
That outfit is just so amazing
Here I thought nothing could clash this loud
Reveal your fashion nightmares to me,Miss Love,
Onward you’ll march,& you’ll do yourself proud.
Ugly stockings and headbands won’t daze you
Ghastly shoes and jockey pants will not abound
Hasty outfits with ne’er a matching color
Take you no farther than anyone else around(So,
Here’s my advice,my delusional hippy flapper…
Instead of daydreaming your outfits are outfits
Stick to dreaming only in your sleep…)
Courtney Love, my love
Everything about this ensemble is wrong
Let me explain it to you plainly, time-traveler,
Every decade of the 1900′s wants their accessories back.
Be it the flashy flapper headpiece of the twenties
Riding deliriously above your 1906 car-riding dust jacket
Intentionally masking the nightgown you stole from my grandma in 1941
That flows over your cropped 1930′s jockey pants.
Yes your tie-dyed stockings pay homage to 60′s hippydom and 80′s dayglo
Simply clashing catastrophically with Charlie Chaplin’s shoes
Kind words escape me as I cringe at the polka dot purse
Indeed stolen from a 1952 starlet bombshell gone mad.
Now time travel these to whence they came, Love, and do no more harm.
Only you, Courtney, would think to
Herself, “How else can I disguise myself as a
Homeless person? I know! Tye-die socks!”
Obviously, the rest of us
Never realized your crazy-
Eyes and blogs rants were so thought out.
You could use that kind of brain power as a
Neurologist or something instead. No? Really?
Okay. We like the crazy anyways.
Your
Ever
Evolving
Eyesore
Of
Outre
Outfits
Wows me. Never change.
Disastrously dressed
Enduring sleepless reprise
Miss Love you have lost it
Oh, why am I not surprised?
Now put the crackpipe down
Overly pressured old girl
Life slipped from your grasp
Oh, it makes me wanna hurl!
Go on and get a grip
You’re an old fashion trip
Skip the socks
Take off the headband
Untie those shoes
Discard the pantaloons
You’ll survive the day
Thank you for
Reminding me that,
In spite of her passing,
Ms. Anna Nicole
Smith lives on under the clever guise of a
Precious Moments Doll.
Amen
Throw-up burp (oops), just from looking at myself in the window’s reflection.
Have to get to rehab (again). And
Everybody just shut-up about my socks, okay? A lot of people
Have them, according to my stylist – hahahaha – FOOLED YOU! I don’t have
One. (Sigh.) Actually, I don’t have anything.
Life feels as ridiculous as my hat, as ratty as my hair
Extensions. And
You can quote me on that.
Oh, and in case you were wondering what I’m up to these days…
Up yours!!! I’m COURTNEY LOVE, I’LL DO WHAT I…what was I saying?
‘Really though, did you want me to tap dance for cash?…You do?!
Easy money, I’ll do it right here. Look,
I’m already wearing my tap shoes!!
Nothing (burp, gag) can stop me now…
Pardon me, Ms. Love? I
Only wanted to ask a question. Does
Olivia Davidson know you have
Run off with her socks?
For shame, Courtney!
Recall that she was planning to wear them
At the re-opening of the Dairi Burger.
Not only that but think what Mr.
Collins would say: that Tie-Dye is never
Ever appropriate, even in
Sweet Valley.
There is an apparent sadness,
Inescapably a certain type of madness
Exuding from sheepskin mind control rings
Dyed the turquoise of
Yonder translucent oceans,
Engendering blonde waves
Dangling like so much forlorn, stranded seaweed
Do I digress when
I point out your
Socks explode into view
As a cotton candy galactic marvel
Sandwiched firmly between Oxford don and MC Hammer, becoming
Tangentially tongued tied when confronted with
Erstwhile lines of demarcated Laura Ashley frump; while a
Rising hand contains the flow of
Amorphous twittering tirades;
Rallying cries are sent to all in space
En masse: Self control may be fleeting
As a falling star is in view, but Violets are forever
*Violets is my fave song by CL.
Little girl lost.
Or found, and raised by rats.
Very often looking tossed,
Embellished with dumb hats.
Someone ought to tell her,
Tye-dye’s still a sin.
It’s best left to the hippies, and
Not upon thy shin.
Keep this poem close
Scan before choosing clothes.
Tailypo gets big ups for the sonnet-acrostic combo. Way to use that undergraduate degree in English!
Before she left the house, she did the outfit audit:
Ornate shower cap – check.
Zany leg cladding – check.
Overly-long tunic with paintball damage – check.
Courtney mused.
Hmmm.
“I think what’s missing is another layer. Maybe a
Confusingly cute coat?”
Useless tie-dye socks, have no place on your feet Courtney!
Gallivanting around town, looking like you lost a bet.
Lord knows you should know better sweetie!
Yet it seems like you do not!
Oy vey i really don’t know what to say.
U should know that this outfit is a no go?
The time you spent on twitter should have been used dressing!
For this is unforgivable.
I never seen such disregard for fashion
This has no place anywhere! my friend.
How delicious are my fingers
And pants should ALWAYS be tucked in your socks
Tresses like Rapunzel
Are flowing down my coat
Should I be outside
This hat is so cozy
I am keeping the music in my brain warm
Courtney R-O-C-K-S!!
So. It’s a mess. I know! But it’s also
Kind of a STYLE, not
Elegant, but HER, not
Pretty, but very Courtney Love. And you know,
The thing is, although
I wouldn’t wear it, and it’s definitely
Crazy,
I think
She’s kind of
Making it work.
Perhaps
It is cold.
Lady,
Go ahead and feel
Really warm
Inside. You could
Make the
Strictest of
Hippies
Object to your crazy
Ensemble.
Oh Courtney dear, do come over here
Help yourself now! Before it’s too late
Hire a stylist
Or suffer your fate
Never
Ever wear that outfit again
You will regret it
Now, take my advice!
Or suffer Fug Nations disdain
Gracious, woman!
Read a newspaper.
Untimely though it may seem, it is
No longer considered a
Good idea to don
Everything
In your wardrobe at once.
Sad, I know.
Do you need a hankie?
Eh, that petti-smock-tunic thing should be
Adequate to
Dry your tears.
Lovely Court, a note to you:
Invest in a can of dry shampoo. As
Very often, you’re detected with
Extensions Britney Spears rejected.
Thank God for Hole and rock n roll,
However, ‘all the drugs’ can take their toll.
Remember, though you entertain us,
Our taste is footwear is not so heinous.
Under that coat is a body to die for! So
Give us an outfit to coo and sigh for!
Hell, we know you’re too PUNK ROCK for fashion, but,
Toots, dress yourself with a little passion.
How about not resembling dereliction? And appearing
In something with an ounce of conviction? Just
So we’re sure you’re over your addiction…
Courtney my love
Really, we need to talk
All this get up, what’s it all about?
Zany no longer befits a woman of your vintage
You must admit that the baby blue shower cap is too much, and it
Looks like an extension got caught around it during the rush out the door
At least your purse is nice
Don’t bite your fingers in shame,
You can only go up from here.
Please!
Someone
Yank Courtney’s
Hat down until
All
Disgusting
Evidence of those
Ludicrous socks
Is well and truly
Cauterized from our minds!
I agree with Librarylady…Tailypo’s is marvelous. I am, right now, marvelling.
This is how the girls here where I live dress…on Mismatch Day, during the week before Homecoming. It’s not the socks so much as the way she tucked her pants into them that’s breaking my heart. Courtney, sweetie, you can stop being Althea Flynt now. She ended up dead in her bathtub, remember?
Perhaps the headwound won’t seem quite as lame
All bonneted in lacy frumpy mass.
Not all my fault, though – for the leggings blame
The gnomes who stole my only looking glass.
Alas, the devils, much to my chagrin,
Left nighties there where once my shirts had been.
Oh heavens me, with gnomes did this begin?
Or was it oxycodone mixed with gin?
Nay, mark, dear friends, my fashionly mistake -
Someday you will ache like I do ache.
Honey, no.
Oh you may think it’s still 1993,
Whacktacular you were in days of grunge gone by.
Tie dye socks, bloomers, 19th century baby doll clothes?
Wish I could care enough to deconstruct this mess, Love.
Extremely tedious you are to me now though.
Ew.
Laughing as I skip down the sidewalk
Embodying fashionable fugly grunge
Poor Frances Bean will never know style
Residing with her grandparents in a house
Empty of pilgrim-pants and toasty
Caterpillar hats of blue and tan that
Happily match my tie-dyed calves
And help me vogue as I walk.
Unclear to you is that I know they are always
Naughty and after me fashion lucky charms.
In the dark, deep abyss of my mind
My inner Tim Gunn gently reprimands,
Court, rocking tie-dye AND a Taylor Swift wig
On top of being homeless
Never gets you on the Best-Dressed List.
Come on, I never thought that you’d
Ever steal “Pride and Prejudice”-esque costumes
Regardless of the 17th-century menswear trend.
Now that you know that’s a whole lot of look,
Embrace your inner “Love”-liness, and,
Darling, MAKE IT WORK.
Hey there, Courtney. I know it’s been
AGES
Since you were relevant, but
How do you justify this?
Barfing in your mouth
Really isn’t helping matters.
Oh, Courtney.
Why must you make it so easy?
No, those socks don’t help.
I am officially at a loss for words.
Eeek!
Dear Courtney Love. Secretly I rather
Admire you. Who else could dress so
Mighty fugsomely. And get hardly a glance?
No-one else could pull off wearing a fisherman’s coat
And a christening dress with paint on it
With some sort of silk head nappy.
Even your britches have us in stitches, and the
Stockings look like a galaxy about to explode. I heard
Once that you cried when your hotel
Manager tried to gently explain that he couldn’t go to the bank on your behalf.
Evidentally you have not figured out how to access your cash.
Finger Moustaches
Utter Insanity
God Help Us…
Can someone explain this for me?
All of it hurts.
Looks like she walked through a laundry line,
Like in a cartoon from the 40′s.
Couldn’t she have forgone the tie-dye?
How do you even get tie-dye socks?
Is Jerry Garcia’s estate selling stuff?
Looks like I missed it. And are those bloomers?
Did Amelia Bedelia stop by? She rocks.
So many questions, really.
Even if they all were answered, it wouldn’t
Really help the intense pain in my eyes.
Vice comes in all sorts of colors these days.
If those are oxfords, I’m going to cry.
Crying on the inside, for that sad tunic.
Every tunic in the world now seems terrible.
She has a kid, right? Who let that happen?
Can someone explain this for me?
All of it hurts.
Looks like she walked through a laundry line,
Like in a cartoon from the 40′s.
Couldn’t she have forgone the tie-dye?
How do you even get tie-dye socks?
Is Jerry Garcia’s estate selling stuff?
Looks like I missed it. And are those bloomers?
Did Amelia Bedelia stop by? She rocks.
So many questions, really.
Even if they all were answered, it wouldn’t
Really help the intense pain in my eyes.
Vice comes in all sorts of colors these days.
If those are oxfords, I’m going to cry.
Crying on the inside, for that sad tunic.
Every tunic in the world now seems terrible.
She has a kid, right? Who let that happen?
Also, Sarah Rodgers, AMAZING.
Only you, Courtney Love, would think this was a good Idea.
Like many of your lyrics, this outfit is scary and confusing
Do you like looking like a bag lady?
How many pairs of tie-dyed socks do you actually own? Burn them.
And where did you find the time to turn a diaper into a hat?
Gross. Just Gross.
Courtney Love, you can’t be serious.
Oh wait, you’re Courtney Love, of course you are.
Ugly doesn’t begin to cover this, so here’s what you do:
Return that smock to the homeless hippie from whence it came,
Take off those breeches as it isn’t 1776, deary,
Next, purchase a mirror so this never happens again.
Especially those socks.
Your hair has a muffin top; how did you even do that?
For realsies, though. Burn this whole outfit, because,
Unlike you, we have to see this mess.
God, I need a drink.
Making her way home
After losing role to Johnny
Depp.
Had some confusion:
Alice’s dress plus
Tie-dyed socks and Bret Michaels headband equals
Trying too hard to
Exude whimsy. You just look
Really crazy.
boho tragedy
oh, dear courteney
how you keep us
enthralled with your
mystifying outfits,
insane behavior
and wild antics.
nobody can accuse you of being boring!
never did i recognize you
under that hat…
thought it was an olsen twin!
courtney, i gotta tell ya though, that even with
all that tie-dyed, baby-dolled, crazy-hatted mess,
somehow you always manage to keep me
entertained!
Come
On, honey. We
Understand it’s been a
Rough ride
These last few decades.
Now put down that pipe; we worry because
Every day
You go out
Looking,
Once again, like a
Vagrant. Will this go on forever and
Ever?
Oh,
Honey.
Mayhap you are not
Aware that you resemble
Kate Hudson–if she suddenly
Embraced cracked-out boho chic?
My God, what is that thing on your head?
Even an Olsen would reject it.
On the other hand, we’ve come to expect this.
Very sneaky, setting this low standard of
Extreme comfort. No “beauty is pain” here!
Rock on, C-Love. Rock on.
Paul Revere going to Woodstock?
Ah, no it’s just Courtney in his coat.
It seems she forgot to remove her shower cap too.
No, wait, it seems to be attached to her hair.
Frankly, I’m concerned.
Unflatteringly tailored pants?
Loud, loud, LOUD tye-dye socks?
Loose, wrinkled tunic?
Yikes!
But where did she get it all?
A high school costume department?
Does anyone really sell these sorts of clothes?
Now, I’m not saying that you
Or I would wear
This
Simply that it is less
Obscene than her usual, um, ensembles
Better-played(for her)is an
Apt
Description
I think these may be the best entries yet.
Once upon an afternoon as the mid-atlantic braced for snow,
Hardly an outfit could contain Miss Courtney, all crazy hat and furbelow.
Darlings, we wonder
Exactly how she does make her outside match her in so clearly.
Alas, we just can’t say; surely knowing would surely cost us dearly.
Rather we should tuck our tongues.
Go outside and get busy.
Otherwise, we may soon find function in this form so misaligned and dreary.
Double up your meds, Miss Courtney, your crazy is showing, Dearie.
Here ye, here ye!
Olsen twin look alikes
Let us drink, for today is arts and crafts day, so
Emancipate your daughters, because we are going to dye our britches and paper mache our caps
Ludicrously tie-dyed in knee-highs the colors of a stormy sky,
Oddly knackered, strolling in my knickers, I am tongue-tied,
Verklempt. Talk amongst yourselves, but be kind.
Easy as it might be to fashion me crazy,
Can’t you see my patent-leather halcyon-induced sleepwalk is a cry for help!
Have a heart and wake me up!
I am Courtney Love, child, with a career never meant to be!
Love me, child, I’ve been scorned by society, always second best!
Don’t hate me ’cause I am different from the rest!
Ha ha! What is this?
It’s Courtney Love, but not a lace slip or rip to be seen.
Shock! Smudged red lipstick is missing too.
Time machine mishap – 1970? 1870?
Or is this an amateur production of Dr WHO?
Radicool tye-dye both subtle and bold:
It’s on a pinafore and mop cap, like a tripped-out scullery maid.
Classic knickerbockers and patent leather, minus the dandy flair.
And of course, ha ha, the tye-dye socks she chose to wear. But
Lo and behold, I think they’re tights – she knows tights are not pants!
Me calls this Historical Mash-up, complete with hobo overcoat.
A kooky nutso jumble like this takes balls or no eye-balls
So sick of Gaga and Rhianna’s perfected performance weird
Hallelujah for organic wtf fug!
Under those fingers, Courtney is stifling a giggle.
People of Fug Nation would also be bored without this.
(and end up filling time with tye-dye projects, oh no!)
Yowzah!
“Even I’m not sure of this one…
Emanuelle Ungaro my ass, Lindsey.
Eesh! These spats are hard on the shin splints
Oye! these pantaloons are giving me a wedgie
OMG I am never reading Goop again.
Only recompense is the TP doily on my head.
What if I turn around and run?”
Sheesh. Love, even though everyone is looking for
Hourdes of hooky pirates, you won’t be
Included on the news for britches like those. I’m
Very sure the booty they seek is not
Even close to yours. Pantaloons
Really aren’t pants for loony’s, you know that right?
Make haste! lower that grungy topsail,
Everyone will turn around, i promise. Just
Try to stop making the Somalians mad by
Impersonating them badly and
Making a mockary of piracy
Because pretty soon you’re going to have
Extremely angry,
Rambunctiously ridiculous
Swashbuckling pirate fashion police after you. Whoops.
So it begins…
Musing o’er her choice of coat and having
Eagerly polished her brogues
Love ventures into the sunlight
Luring, cajoling,
Seducing the colour blind masses of
L.A folk into her hole of
Iniquity
Keeling over when forced to think too much or
Express emotions in a manner other than
Typing meaningless rants on the
Internet
Even Love has feelings
Dare we question her sanity when faced with an ensemble
Yet again assembled in the dark?
Even Love has desires.
She wants to be adored and admired
Or even placed Number One on the
Charts
Kurt Cobain may not have been the best career move… but neither were those
Socks
Perhaps this ensemble could have been saved if
Only I could put the fur headband
Over my eyes.
Really, C. Love? Knickers? I can
Forgive the men’s dress shoes,
Roll with the tye-died socks (pun intended)
And the purse might even be cute.
Now, if we could only
Change the nightshirt top, maybe the caption
“Even crazy hobos get the blues” wouldn’t seem
So apropos.