Spring 2007’s Fashion Week introduced jaded new eyes to Bryant Park: Heather and Jessica, creators of the celebrity whipping post Go Fug Yourself. The Fug Girls are back this season to excoriate the A-list and chastise the B-list.
Our favorite part of 2006, including the heroic news of Britney kicking K-Fed to the curb, was Fashion Week. We came, schmoozed, and boozed our way through a week of haute couture and hot parties. So we’re thrilled to be returning to spot celebs in the front row and spy on them at the after-parties this winter. But this time, we’re coming prepared — even blasé. We vow that, this go-round, we will not be horrified by interpretive dance on the runways, nor will we fly into a vicious rage when some forward-thinking designer tries to convince us that we should be wearing pants on our heads. (Don’t worry: Both of these statements are lies. There will totally be horror AND rage. Probably during the first show on our schedule.) But what we’re most breathlessly anticipating is the moment when we find out if we’re in for yet another six months of leggings or if our long national nightmare is finally over. Our poison pens are poised and ready.