Fug Me Friday: Too Tight, Too Short Dresses

While watching Jersey Shore yesterday, I commented to my Shore-watching gChat partner, Danielle, that I’m sick of seeing Snooki looking like a sausage in a too-tight casing.  Her preference seems to be the super-tight dresses where if she moves her thighs apart more than two inches, the whole thing rides up her hips and shows her “kooka”.

It absolutely does her figure no favors.  Her best looks have been when she’s in something non-stretch, but apparently dresses with Lycra go best with ratty foam slippers.  Unfortunately, she’s not the only celebrity who seems to think that stretch is best.

I have nothing against Kim Kardashian.  I think she’s a gorgeous girl with an ass that won’t quit.  I actually am glad she is proud of showing off her figure.  But there’s a difference between choosing dresses that are tailored to your figure and ones that cling to everything.  This particular dress looks like it’s cutting into her cleavage.

Katy Perry’s latex dress phase was scary.  I doubt that girl could have eaten more than a peanut before wearing one of these.  One wonders how she could get the lung capacity in a dress this tight to sing her songs live!  I feel like at the end of the night, as Russell Brand helped her peel her clothing off, she would be left with livid red marks on her boobs and her thighs from the compression.

I’ve always felt Mariah Carey’s wardrobe reflects her madness.  Anyone else out there remember when she was first on the scene, with her glass-shattering voice and her marriage to Tommy Mottola?  She was all demure and sweet.  Then she got a divorce and became her “own woman”, and then did that song where she was all hoochie-dressed and singing with Ol’ Dirty Bastard?  Since then, her wardrobe choices have been all about the tight and short.  And they all seem to be the same size, regardless of whether she is the same size.  You would think that her post-Glitter ice cream meltdown on MTV would have taught her something.

I loved Jennifer Love Hewitt’s wardrobe on Ghost Whisperer.  The drapey dresses, the long coats, the neo-Victorian ruffles that at the same time were combined with modern elements to make them fresh.  If only she could carry over some of that flattering style into her real life.  After being criticized for being fat in a bikini, she seems to have struck back by becoming waifish and wearing bandage dresses.  This may be how she landed her Golden-Globes nominated TV Movie role where she plays a hooker who “kind-touches” clients because the economy went south.  (Side note: SERIOUSLY, Hollywood Foreign Press?)

This has to be the most egregious incident of tight-dressery.  This is an actual Mark Fast runway show, where gorgeous model Crystal Renn has been shoved into dresses that show her every bump and lump.  I understand that his message was supposed to be embracing the larger body, and showing that his dresses don’t just look good on stick-thin models, but seriously?  Who would want this?  No wonder Renn looks miserable.

Ladies of the world, let this be a lesson to you.  Don’t trust Herve Leger.  Find clothes that fit impeccably; don’t default to the Lycra.

Fug Me (Out of Necessity) Friday: Puffer Jackets

I am guilty of my own fug.

I hang my head in shame as I admit this.  My fug has some deep roots, and I just can’t seem to give it up.  I have a variety of really stylish coats and jackets–fur collar, houndstooth check, sassy raincoat, etc.  Yet every morning I trudge downstairs and grab my puffer jacket.  Not only does it make me look hideous, but it’s reversible–black to lime green.  And it buttons in front.  And the buttons gape.  My humiliation is complete.

Models and actresses can occasionally make these wearable sleeping bags look good.  But for the rest of us, you know, that have more than 1% body fat, we look like, wellllll…YOU KNOW:

Not all puffer coats are alike.  Some have belted waists, which look better, and some have strategic quilting that makes you look a little less boxy.  But let’s face it–you’re swaddling your body in down feathers; you want to have some bulk there.  And bulk you have.

It is a practical item, and I hesitate to harp at it because it is a necessity for cold weather climes, but I just wish there were a better option.  Something that didn’t make you look like you’re wearing your comforter out.  At least if y0u do wear one, make it practical.  I have no idea what the designer of this jacket was thinking:

Try to avoid the patent leather look.  The shinier the coat, the worse the look gets.  Looking like you’re drowning in a trash bag   just doesn’t cut it.  It looks like bad fetish wear.  And speaking of fetishes–the idea that sparked this whole post off was this article in Viceland.com entitled Oedipus Would Have Loved Puffer Jackets, about those who have a fetish about the coat.  NSFW and disturbing, though the video of pretty girls in puffer jackets was (mostly) laughable.  I think it MIGHT just be what I needed to scare me into another coat come Monday morning.

Fug Me Friday: The Pauly D Blowout

In a kind of mini “part 2″ to my Jersey Shore post yesterday, I thought I would mention something that really DOESN’T work for me: Pauly D’s hair. In my neck of the woods, it actually is a rather popular hairstyle. This gravity-defying hairstyle, ostensibly styled in a wind tunnel, employs a ton of hair gel. I believe it might be impossible to actually run one’s fingers through.

This is the original and still the best. But he’s not the only one in entertainment with that style. Zach Efron was recently spotted with a modified blowout.

Oh, Zefron, that’s not how you mend a broken heart.

Apparently this is some guy on a professional football team (note how much I know about such things):

Molto Guido. And it has definitely made its way into the masses, for people who GTL together, and want to look alike in their d-bagginess:

(The crispy tan and duckface is definitely a BONUS.)

However, this remains one of my favorite moments ever:

Oh, Michael Cera. I heart you.

Fug Me Friday: Squirrelly Mustaches

I recently came across this horrible sight:

Let’s attempt (after much effort) to ignore that fact that he’s borrowing Edward Cullen’s wardrobe from his “Meadow” collection and rocking the sleeveless button-up. What, in the name of all that’s holy, is crawling across his upper lip?!?

I know, gentlemen, that last month was “Movember” (aka “No Shave November”). You got past the first uncomfortable grow-out, and then discovered that it’s kind of awesome to not have to shave every morning. Your routine was streamlined. And gradually, oh so gradually, you figured that you should go back to that clean-shaven look. But in the meantime, how FUN would it be to shave it into all kinds of facial hairogami first?

I love facial hair. With a passion. But the patchy mustache or the 70’s homage leaves me cold. The gooseflesh pale skin with a coarse mustache is not a good look. I’ll put up with some rug burn from good stubble, but those mustaches should never come near me.

Full groomed beard. Stubble. Clean-shaven. Well-tended goatee IF it looks good on you. Those are your options, gentlemen. Avoid the mustache, for everyone’s sake. Don’t follow the hipsters down that dark road. Because that road…leads to Joaquin Phoenixville.

Right...

Wrong.

Fug Me Friday: Z-Coil Shoes

Sometimes life is not fair. I’ve been single for a while. I’m still searching for my “soul mate”. I make an effort. So why, God, WHY is my former colleague and fellow single gal getting married for the third time when she swears by Z-Coil shoes?!?

When she came to work with these monstrosities on her feet, I was so ashamed. We had been WORKING through things. She was coming out of a bad marriage, and I was introducing her to things like makeup, hair color to cover the grey, and shirts without stains on them. She had even bought a couple of pairs of sassy chunky heels to wear to work. And then she brought the Z-Coils out. But they’re so COMFORTABLE, she argued. I believe I may have turned up my nose at her at this point. I have nothing against comfort. I wear flats to work because I’m on my feet in the classroom much of the day. I have a pair of purple Sofft Mary Jane heels that I love to wear. But I cannot abide by the Z-Coils.

The point of the shoe, it seems, is to showcase this awful, industrial spring at the heel. Most of the shoes look like an amalgamation between shock absorbers and orthopedic shoes. Perhaps they are meant to be like a futuristic robot-type construct in a Tim Burton world. Some of the styles are meant to be more “modern”. Their tagline is “Fashion Never Felt So Good”. I would have to strongly disagree with the word “fashion”.

I get it, Helena Bonham Carter, you're quirky, but PLEASE go back to Fluevogs!

I refuse to believe that any man finds these super-sexy. That he whispers into his woman’s ear “go put those hawt spring shoes on”. That he watches her sway as she walks away and thanks the good lord for those Z-Coils. I can’t imagine that those shoes helped my friend get her next husband.

Instead, I think it’s because she’s a whore.

Fug Me Friday: Harem Pants

Could I offer you a whorehouse tank top?

Or perhaps a brothel skirt?

NO? But you’ll buy a harem pant?

Trust me, it’s not just the name I disagree with. It’s the entire thing.

This is not my first time around with harem pants. I will admit to wearing them as a 13-year-old girl. They were white, jersey knit, with a chain that draped across the front of the waistband. I wore them with a blue and white striped shirt with attached white vest. I was quite proud of this ensemble. While all around me were wearing their stirrup pants, I was sporting a different style entirely.

This time, however, it’s like harem pants on CRACK. Mine were comfortable, but my goodness, there is no need for a gigantic, saggy crotch in one’s pants. These girls could be smuggling adult diapers beneath! I guess that does make them the perfect choice for the incontinent, but other than that, they have no redeeming value. Some have taken the crotch to an extreme, making it more like a closed-up skirt with feet holes. Or, by another name, a hobble.

I fear the harem pant. I don’t want to wear it, I don’t want to see it. If you’re not Barbara Eden, walk past them. At a quick clip.

Fug Me Friday: The Faire

Ummm...no.One of my students, who has quite the flair for the dramatic, was talking to me recently about the Renaissance Faire that she went to this summer. Of course, she dressed up in her best Renaissance garb. “You know who won the costume contest?” she asked me. “A FAIRY.” She practically spat the words. And I have to agree with her sentiment. How is it that a fairy can win a Renaissance costume contest? Seriously, people, get a grip–it’s not like fairies are an extinct species that only existed in the Renaissance.  Life is not a Shakespearean play, regrettably.

NOT Heidi Klum.

I think popular culture has left some with the impression that Renaissance women dressed something like a cross between a pirate, Xena Warrior Princess, and a Victoria’s Secret model. Just because you slap a corset on doesn’t mean that you’re from the Renaissance. A ton of cleavage is not a trademark Renaissance look, despite appearances. I know this; I’m a History teacher.

 

Consider this rather cranky post a substitute for the unwritten post I should have done for Halloween, that would have been subtitled “Fairy Tale Princesses are Not Whores”. It seems that Halloween is a chance to reinterpret classical female character costumes with short skirts and tons o’ boob. Hello! Alice in Wonderland was approximately 8 years old. Not a slutty 27-year-old skank. Also, the Middle Ages were known more for practicality than for hearty-bosomed fun. It’s hard to adjust your neckline just right to show cleave and shoulder when you’ve got the Black Death.

Hear that, wenches?

(P.S.–how much do I love that the owner of the blog where I found this last picture named it “Mensa”? I think I’ve found my soulmate.)