There is only one website/blog that you need to be checking daily, other than this one. A few weeks ago, my friend Sam tipped me off to what is perhaps the best source of fashion entertainment on t’Interwebz. I present to you, GoFugYourself. Rather than spending my time telling you all about how amazing this site is, only to do it only half the justice it deserves. So, instead, I’ll pick a few choice samples from the HUNDREDS (perhaps thousands) of entries. Three things:

1) The Cattiest Commentary in the West (via posts on Solange Knowles):

From “Fuglange” 10 November, 2008

I have a bird phobia. I don’t mind them chirping happily in the trees, or flying gleefully south for the winter, or whatever. But other than that, I hate them. I don’t like them walking around near me. I am freaked out by them in cages.  In fact, I have to stop typing about this right now.  So I am beginning to become alarmed by the fact that nearly every time Solange goes out — even if she’s not technically wearing real feathers — she looks like she’s wearing some kind of giant, crazy bird:

STOP DOING THAT, SOLANGE. (PS: did you know my spell check wants to change your name to either Melange, or Solarium? Think about it.)

Also, those shoes are terrible with your bird costume. I’m just saying.

From “VMA and Fashion Rocks Fug: The Sisters Knowles” 10 September, 2008

I’m starting to think the Knowles family needs to retreat to Sedona for some meditation, family therapy, and an afternoon of communicating only in “I” statements. For example, Solange could say, “I am desperately attempting to self-actualize by wearing things that make it impossible for you to overlook me in a crowd.”

[. . .]

NOTHING streamlines your body when you’re wearing a giant funeral wreath that’s raining hoo-ha. We’ve said it before, and we’ll say it again, Solange: You will not rain on Beyonce’s fame parade by disguising youself as an actual storm cloud.

2) Dialogues/monologues:

From “Why Did I Get Fugged?” 14 May, 2008

“Hello. My name is Janet, and I’ll be your hostess tonight here at Ombre’s Fabulous Caftan and Sushi Emporium.  Your table is ready. We have two specials tonight: a spicy tuna roll with avocado and mango, and this spectacularly fabulous/totally f’ing crazy caftan-gown which handily doubles as a parachute if you happen to get pushed out of a plane and yet is still dramatic enough to work if you wake up in an alternate universe where you are starring in Dynasty:Intergalatic. It also transforms into a really fantastic window treatment. Can I get you folks a drink to start?”

From “Fug, je t’aime” 12 November, 2008

PETER SARSGAARD: Maggie. Maggie, Maggie, Maggie.

MAGGIE GYLLENHAAL: Yes, Dad? I mean, Peter?

PETER: I don’t look THAT old with this thing.

MAGGIE: Certainly not. But, just let me know if you want me to proofread your Gettysburg Address.

PETER: Oh, how interesting — I didn’t think cavepeople could read anything that wasn’t scrawled on the wall in picture form. Congratulations.

MAGGIE: Touche, Tom Hanks. Give Wilson the volleyball my best.

PETER: I will! I would tell you to give my regards to Old Mrs. Henderson’s beloved cats, but I suspect they have shuffled off this mortal coil. In related news, your hairy life preserver smells like Whiskas.

MAGGIE: God, all this passive-aggression is getting me hot.

PETER: Let’s clasp hands and think about passion.

MAGGIE: And shaving.

PETER: Sure.

3) Some ridiculous pictures out of context:

When you get around to exploring GFY–as I’m sure you’ll do late into the night, naked, laughing aloud in your otherwise empty room, as I often have–be sure to pick up on some of the cleaver tags they employ seperate from those on the sidebar: “Caftans” has a lot to offer, as does “Oh Honey No.” They update just about every day, usually many times per day. You’re welcome.

Here are the permalinks for the entries I borrowed from, for your reference (they are in order):

Blog later–work now!

Potty humor FTW.

Jennifer’s just a little conscious about her little internals. Slick as a whistle, she is. I didn’t even know there was such a type of yogurt. On the other hand, I look at greasy foods as nature’s way of sliding things on through.

I grossed myself out just then. Ick.

Tomorrow (November 15th) is the national protest against Prop 8 (and all the other similar, minor props like it). Really, I can’t imagine you’ll be doing anything better at noon on a Saturday, so chase off that hangover and head to Volunteer Park. Give your fellow gays a favor and give them a political reach-around. Thanks. More info here.

In case you’re wondering, it stands for “OhMiBod” - the first iPod-powered vibrator.

Now you can literally get fucked by, say, George Michael.

Or Michael Jackson. Eww.

At an English department post-graduate research lecture a few weeks back, I was inspired by what may have been the best fashion accessory of the Middle Ages, perhaps ever. The lecture was by a woman called Ruth Evans, and it was titled “What was Sexuality in the Middle Ages?” And so, in my capacity as self-appointed fashion editor/prophet, I give you the one and only item from the Middle Ages sure to be the fashion must-have of this and every holiday season:

Erotic Iconography Badges!

I know the image is small, but in case you can’t quite tell (or you can tell but you think “No, that couldn’t be”), I’m here to tell you, that’s exactly what this is. Here we see a 14th C. metal badge from Nottinghamshire, probably worn by a peasant (given the cheapness of the metal). In this figure, we see a vagina with arms and legs, walking around on stilts, wearing a crown of three penises. Historians don’t know for sure what the function of these badges was, or who would have warn them, but they suspect they could have been either fertility/virility charms, or souvenirs from brothels.

There are better ones yet that have been discovered, including winged penises, “queen” vaginas being carried around on a litter by a team of eager wangs, and, my favorite, an especially pious cunt on religious pilgrimage (featured in safari-style hat, carrying a walking stick and rosary). You can admire a whole line of reproductions of these sexy badges at the website of a Minneapolis jewelry maker called Ellesh’s Closet.

Now, imagine if we brought these wonderful accessories back. Everyone I know (with only one or two exceptions) loves the cock, so why not display your love of the cock by wearing an image of a penis driving a race car? Or, an anthropomorphised butt with a jet-pack. Wave of the future. Each bathhouse and sex dungeon could have its own specialty badge, and you could relive your 13-year-old (23-year-old, if you’re Stu) dream of catching ‘em all ™! Imagine how quickly they would sell during Pride. A “Vagina on a Harley” badge would be as in demand as . . . as . . . well, a vagina on a Harley.

The point of these badges is not simply that they are funny or stylish, though clearly they’re both. The point is that they reflect a time when sexuality was so open and acknowledged that people actually wore these things around in public. Which group of people today are bold enough, proud enough, open enough about their sexual tastes to bring this fashion back? It can only be the gays. Mark my words: wave of the future.

Big thanks to http://gotmedieval.blogspot.com/ for the use of their image.