Well Played, Fergie

Aw, that’s right, Fergie Ferg, take a bow.

It seems so long ago now that she was running around town dressed like Pippi Longstocking on a bender. If you’d told me then that I’d be patting Fergie on the back for looking like a lovely lady at a posh event, I’d have laughed and suggested that you stop using Elmer’s Glue as nasal spray. Sure, the matchy satin shoes are a bit bridesmaidy, but that’s splitting hairs when you consider that we used to be lucky if she even brushed her tresses. The dress color is so pretty on her and the cut is flattering, and her coif is shiny… maybe Josh Duhamel is finally using his hotness to bring her up to his level. Or maybe one night in the middle of a lasagna cookoff in their shared kitchen, Fergie dropped a colander of flat noodles and gasped, “OH MY GOD, WAIT, OLIVER! WASN’T A FASHION SHOW, WAS IT?!?” At which point Josh swept her into his arms, carried her up to the bedroom, and gently laid her down… on the floor of her closet, where they proceeded to make sweet, sweet Goodwill piles.

At any rate, Happy Holidays to us, because I get to use the word “lovely” to refer to her without having to follow it with the hugely unsexy “lady lumps” epithet.