Fugtastically Fugular
I love the fug girls! If you have never checked out their website, it's here. I read them religiously every morning - and by religiously, I mean they are gospel. That is, if a gospel were informative, instructive, moral-instilling, and hysterically funny all at the same time. I don't remember any gospels from my youth hitting all four of those vital points.
The site gets especially busy around awards shows, when celebrities turn out in droves attired in everything from a bath mat and pipe cleaners to million-dollar jewel-encrusted haute couture. The Oscar coverage has been particularly entertaining, and my favorite so far has been Claire Danes.
See the dress being discussed here, and read on:
"When I was a little girl, my grandmother had these pillows in her bedroom that I was OBSESSED with. They were peach, and they were covered in lace, with lace trim. They were VERY feminine and therefore made perfect staging areas on which my Barbies could try and strangle each other -- my Barbies led very dramatic, soap-operatic lives, which is to be expected when there are twenty women fighting over two men, one of whom was ostensibly married (that would be Todd, of the Tracy and Todd wedding set, and he had some issues -- most notably that the rubber band which attached his top half to his bottom half broke when he was dancing too vigorously at his wedding reception, leaving him at worst a paraplegic and at best unable to sit down, depending on the needs of the story I was concocting). Occasionally, my Barbies would commit suicide over something or other, or one would run the other one down with the pink Corvette, or one would get trampled under the hooves of Barbie's horse, Dallas, or one would be tossed down the elevator shaft of the Barbie Townhouse, and when that happened, I often set their bodies down on these pillows for the viewing before the funeral (during which all my other Barbies, as well as said pillow, were swaddled in some excess black lace my other grandma gave me after I told her that I thought it was inappropriate for Barbie and her cronies to be so SMILELY at a funeral, even if one of them was quasi- or wholly responsible for the death). And so this peachy, lacy dress of Claire Danes brings me back to a happy time in my life. A time when I spent hours throwing dolls off the edge of my bed, getting them addicted to pain killers, and dreaming up complex love quandrangles for them (my mother used to let me watch All My Children with her during the summer and apparently, I was paying attention). But while I got great joy out of my Barbie funerals, and the shenanigans that led to them, just so you know, I would never actually want to DRESS LIKE ONE."
The site gets especially busy around awards shows, when celebrities turn out in droves attired in everything from a bath mat and pipe cleaners to million-dollar jewel-encrusted haute couture. The Oscar coverage has been particularly entertaining, and my favorite so far has been Claire Danes.
See the dress being discussed here, and read on:
"When I was a little girl, my grandmother had these pillows in her bedroom that I was OBSESSED with. They were peach, and they were covered in lace, with lace trim. They were VERY feminine and therefore made perfect staging areas on which my Barbies could try and strangle each other -- my Barbies led very dramatic, soap-operatic lives, which is to be expected when there are twenty women fighting over two men, one of whom was ostensibly married (that would be Todd, of the Tracy and Todd wedding set, and he had some issues -- most notably that the rubber band which attached his top half to his bottom half broke when he was dancing too vigorously at his wedding reception, leaving him at worst a paraplegic and at best unable to sit down, depending on the needs of the story I was concocting). Occasionally, my Barbies would commit suicide over something or other, or one would run the other one down with the pink Corvette, or one would get trampled under the hooves of Barbie's horse, Dallas, or one would be tossed down the elevator shaft of the Barbie Townhouse, and when that happened, I often set their bodies down on these pillows for the viewing before the funeral (during which all my other Barbies, as well as said pillow, were swaddled in some excess black lace my other grandma gave me after I told her that I thought it was inappropriate for Barbie and her cronies to be so SMILELY at a funeral, even if one of them was quasi- or wholly responsible for the death). And so this peachy, lacy dress of Claire Danes brings me back to a happy time in my life. A time when I spent hours throwing dolls off the edge of my bed, getting them addicted to pain killers, and dreaming up complex love quandrangles for them (my mother used to let me watch All My Children with her during the summer and apparently, I was paying attention). But while I got great joy out of my Barbie funerals, and the shenanigans that led to them, just so you know, I would never actually want to DRESS LIKE ONE."