No, the saucer people haven’t landed and donned wigs and bikinis. It’s Christina Ricci - off Hollywood’s A list thanks to Pumpkin, Cursed and such straight-to-DVD gems as Miranda and Prozac Nation -rejoicing in the familiar embrace of anorexia.
Though lacking for work, La Ricci seems to have scrounged together the funds for cake, Cool Whip and Diet Coke. Although I’m pretty sure the cake is a prop. Sad for such a once-promising actress - now Wednesday isn’t just the name of her most famous role, it’s the one day a week she eats.
Thanks, Goldenfiddle, for documenting the continued decimation of T&A in Hollywood. Scarlett Johansson is now the last under-30 beauty with curves, and even she’s hiding under her bed with a shotgun, terrified that the Bulging Rib Police will come and drag her to wherever they’re hiding Thora Birch.
Like my body? [Goldenfiddle]
Is it bad that I know that this is a photograph of Fergie, but it took a solid 10 minutes before my brain could accept that it wasn’t a) Queen Latifah, b) RuPaul with love handles, c) a mystically tanned Kirstie Ally off the fettuccccciiiiine , d) a mannequin at the West Hollywood Sephora Christmas party, e) the next Spiderman villain, or f) the leading actoron in the next Pedro Almadovar film.
In the end, it was the crotch that gave it away, as Fergie is easily the only person who could still pull off a camel toe in overalls. I’m just not used to seeing it not soaked in urine. But the shoes are great! And I know this because Fergie has so graciously given me all-access to her right foot.
Great, Jessica. This is all we need is a bunch of fat chicks walking around thinking they’re you.
That’s right, lovely readers, our own orange and sinewy Jessica Simpson has launched her own plus-sized clothing line, aptly named Jessica Simpson Denim. Already, images of thongs swallowed by enormous ass-slabs peaking from the top of Jessi-low-riders are bounding through my nightmares. This is simply going to require a new word for “camel toe,” but I can’t, for the life of me, think of a split-toed animal that’s larger than a camel. God’s funny like that.
Also, if I were a fat chick (shut up, Rob) I would be all hot and bothered that Jessica Simpson pretends she cares whether or not my thighs can fit into her pants. Plus, if I were a real fat girl, the fag-to-my-hag-gay-best-friend (”Oh my god! We’re JUST like Will & Grace!”) would set me straight and send me right back to Lane Bryant.
Thumbs down, Jess. Here’s a suggestion: Jessica Simpson’s Plus-Sized Cinnabuns for Plus-Sized Women.
It’s late July, and if you’re like us, you’re putting to bed the image of the beach body you imagined for yourself back in April.
Does this make you feel any better? Thought so.
