The other day when I cracked on what Taylor Momsen might wear for Halloween, I wish I’d posted this picture, because it would be the perfect costume:
Fug File: shiny
I’m sure NOTHING would strike fear into Taylor’s own heart more than seeing herself all togged up as a hostess at a Faberge Easter Egg Hunt. If only the idea had inspired a tad more terror in Bryce herself.
So, Jetta John-Hartley here is apparently a singer — dear young celebrities, PLEASE get a Wikipedia page for out-of-touch bloggers such as myself — and I believe she is also currently, or was once, in a British choir called Sense of Sound, who I found on YouTube performing with a boy’s school in a clip that is so AWESOME that if you aren’t moved by it, I worry about your VERY SOUL.
This does not entirely explain why she’s wearing this to the MOBO awards, though, apparently sans the rest of the group (has she gone solo? I’m sure SOMEONE in Fug Nation will know):
I don’t know that I can with good conscience sign off on this outfit — for many reasons, the least of which being that I am worried those shorts may do her actual anatomical harm, and she seems like she might be awesome enough that we want her in one piece — but I have to admit that nothing cracks me up like a girl on the red carpet holding her own jacket, and wallet, and phone, like she’s trying to open her apartment door with her hands full instead of posing for the press. Someone get this girl an assistant, please!
HILARY SWANK: Oh, whoops, am I wandering into somebody’s photo?
JULIETTE LEWIS: YES. But that’s okay, lady-sister, you get over here and you stand with us and work your woman-heat!
MINNIE DRIVER: What I thnk she’s trying to say is, you can stand with us. If you want. If you dare.
HILARY: If I dare?
JULIETTE: Well, sister-dude, I mean, I might steal the show with my very pretty pink dress that looks like it might drop off my boobs at any second, or the shoes that look like my ankles were tied to my bedposts by a pair of silk scarves and I decided I liked it as a fashion statement.
MINNIE: And I look like I just got lei’d at a funeral home. But you… well…
HILARY: Me what? Is this not bright enough? I mean, wouldn’t it make awesome wrapping paper? In fact, for all you know, maybe it used to BE wrapping paper.
JULIETTE: That almost makes me interested.
HILARY: Almost? Be careful what you say to me. I was a Karate Kid once.
JULIETTE: And I was a yoga-obsessed vegan colon-cleansing adorably cheerful nutbar once, who.. wait, I think I still am.
MINNIE: I can’t remember anything I was in, really. But I’m sure it was awesome.
HILARY: Fine, you know what? I don’t want to be in your picture. That would be too much collarbone and neck cords for one photo and we’re all weirdly EXACTLY the same shade of fake flesh, and it’s creeping me out.
JULIETTE: Aw, wussy-pants! The glory of my inevitable nippling would dwarf your aura-field anyway.
MINNIE: And my hairy shoulder will shed all over your wrapping paper. So begone.
HILARY: With pleasure.
I am so thrilled by this:
Heather Morris of Glee here has shown up on these pages before, and not in the good way. But she’s HILARIOUS on Glee — not to mention an amazing dancer — so I am seriously beyond pleased that she pulled it out so gorgeously on Sunday night. In fact — this will surprise none of you who are aware of my predilection for SHINY — this may have been my very favorite dress of the Emmys. Bonus: I love her hair and make-up, too. I’m sure her character, Brittany, would have some dead-pan non sequitor reaction to this, like, “I ate a squirrel for breakfast,” or “I once drank the blood of the innocent. It tasted like Strawberry Quik,” or something, but I personally will just settled for: Well played, Heather.