Fugroads

I guess Taryn Manning didn’t get the memo about how we’re not supposed to be putting our entire pelvis on display anymore. [Look, it was in Vogue. Super-ultra-mega-low riders are out. And while I have nothing against low-slung pants, my personal rule of thumb is, if you need a bikini wax to wear it, it's too low-slung.]

But the Pelvis is the least of Ms. Manning’s problems. There’s the Giant Rabbit’s Foot Purse [one wonders, did she kill the Easter Bunny?] the ugly flat slouchy boots that cut off her legs at precisely the most awkward point possible, and, best of all, what appear to be snakeskin epaulets slithering like wee serpents all over her bony little shoulders. And let’s not even mention the hair cut, which looks like something Joan Jett would have rejected as “too shaggy”

We should, however, mention that this ensemble made its debut at the same event that the 8 Simple Blah Blah Blah girls appeared. That evening must have just been a buffet of fug. A Fugffet, if you will.