There’s an atypical and extraordinary post over at Go Fug Yourself, which usually restricts itself to pointing and laughing at celebrity fashion faux pas. The domainatrixes at Go Fug Yourself — the name refers, of course, to something being “fugly,” or “fucking ugly” — tend to stick to giddy gasps of horror when the beautiful and famous transgress or clucks of tongue when they wander into a few common danger zones: bad plastic surgery, bad fake tans, tops that compress breasts into pancakes or let them droop like, well, Kirsten Dunst. And so on.
The bloggers never lost the power to amuse, but I’d stopped expecting to be surprised. Their site’s post about the Lohans was unexpected and bracing.
Using the paparazzi shots that flood daily through Go Fug Yourself’s electronic filing cabinets, the site shows how Lindsay Lohan has clearly wandered into a danger zone far greater than that of the “bedazzeled boots” of Teri Hatcher or red mess Maria Bartiromo wore to suggest “the local brothel’s patient schoolmarm.”
“You can’t ignore that spaceyness in her irises,” blogger Heather writes to Dina Lohan of her starlet daughter. “It’s there. They’re not connecting … Do you not see? How are you letting this happen?”
The site achieves true urgency and poignancy in warning Dina Lohan that her daughter is in trouble. “LOOK AT HER,” Heather writes. “Something’s either missing or overmedicated or has been beaten into submission.”
The case seems damning just scrolling from one out-of-it shot of Lindsay Lohan to another, but the post ends on a shot of her clutching harshly to her younger sister, Aliana, perhaps protectively, perhaps for balance. “Know what scares me the most?” Heather writes to Dina Lohan. “That you have more of them to ignore. I can only hope they don’t get sucked into the vortex. How creepy is this photo?”
The post is a tour de force, and, again, totally unexpected.
Go fug for yourself.
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4 comments:
Go Fug Yourself managed something truly wonderful with this post about Tom Cruise.
I saw the Lohan post earlier, and yes, it's sad as anything. The gossip newsletters have various reports of Lohan being anorexic again and leaving private dining rooms at restaurants all covered in vomit... The worst thing is knowing that if she really, really does break down, there'll be some publicist somewhere snapping her fingers and going, "that's a least a cover in Vanity Fair! My breakdown hell, and how I overcame it with yoga and a new diet..."
Thanks for the comments, and I apologize for the delay in commenting back.
Go Fug Yourself does a grand job on Tom Cruise in general. I'm generally not an invader of celebrities' privacy and feel they need space in which to be idiots, as they have so little privacy and space in which to do so, but my forgiveness of Cruise's quirks ended long ago, before "War of the Worlds," when he decided it was time for him to share his wisdom with the whole world and to not let the world talk back. Now everyone sees him as a freak, in his own way as dangerous as Michael Jackson, but just as efficient and effective at what he does. I guess this is as it should be, and it's wonderful to think that people shy away when Cruise wanders too close, the same way people recoil whenever a maniac comes leering over to them.
Did you hear about Scarlett Johanson and Tom Cruise? She apparently bagged on "Mission: Impossible: III" because Cruise was too weird.
Delicious.
Lindsay Lohan, though, well, she's just sad. And I hope this all ends better than it looks like it will. In short, I'm hoping for that Vanity Fair cover.
Eric, I'm not sure what you mean by that.
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