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):

For a few months now, I’m been slowly, tenderly loving Patti Labelle, just waiting for an occasion to spread this love with the rest of the world. Specifically, it’s the Patti & Labelle years that I love, the serious, sexy funk years, a requisite for every person’s life for a number of reasons. Observe my favorite example, which I will explain why you too should love in a moment:

First of all, this is inches away from a drag performance, and I think we all know what I mean by “inches.” I can count on one hand the performers today who go this close to over-the-toppness of this scale. Any drag queen worth her heels should strive to this level of ridiculousness.

Second, the lyrics. Yes, she is actually saying what she appears to be: “I come like the pouring rain each time you call my name. It’s good what you’re doing–what you’re doing.” Is she having a very enthusiastic conversation with her lover? Is she being eaten like a Thankgiving turkey, interpreted through song? I’ll leave that for you to decide.

Finally, the costumes: Not only does her space-suit parka and crotch-high tin-foil boots combination give the impression that she could beam aboard the mother ship any moment and set off on her long-standing mission to defeat Flash Gordon and the defenders of the Earth–not only that, but the outfits Patti and her backup singers are wearing put pieces like this into context in a way that makes them seem perfectly understandable:

Of course Beyonce is wearing a washboard cocktail dress with shoulder pads. It’s all about context. It could make less sense.

And just for good measure, one more little treasure from Ms Labelle:

The faint gets me every time.