The political drama playing out in Downing Street, in Chequers and in Westminster is like a prep school, cut-price version of Game of Thrones with a dollop of Whitehall farce. It is sadly a version where, in the interests of economy, or perhaps to preserve Covid-compliant working conditions, they have dispensed with the heroes and kept the villains. So Dominic Cummings is an amalgam of all the creepy and evil advisers to the Kings, Carrie Johnson is Margaery Tyrell and Boris Johnson is a fat and tousled version of Joffrey Baratheon but who has, at least to date, avoided the fate imposed upon that little swine by Olenna Tyrell, Margaery’s auntie.
According to Cummings’ account this week, both he and the then-future third Mrs Johnson regarded Johnson as a useful idiot who was patently not up to the job of being PM, a sentiment with which all of us can readily agree. At first Cummings, working with a coterie of unidentified schemers, had the upper hand and was able to bend Johnson to his aim of getting the UK out of Europe. Sadly for him, and for all of us, while Johnson proved to be sufficiently malleable, he also proved to be without policy, principle, or purpose and with no agenda other than to remain in power. Cummings tells us that he and his unidentified gang decided that after Brexit was done, Johnson would have to go, to be replaced by who knows whom, but before he could execute this plan, he himself was ousted by the ascendancy of Carrie Johnson, which is why Boris Johnson remains in place and Cummings is reduced to sniping from the sidelines and howling at the wind.
Watching Cummings’ interview on Monday with an incredulous and discomfited Laura Kuenssberg, the BBC Political Editor, one did not know whether to admire the singularity with which Cummings had approached his task, untroubled by conscience, decency or any fear of looking like the shit that he is, or to be appalled at the complete contempt in which he held not only Johnson, but also the British public and the democratic process. To Cummings, the end absolutely justified the means. To Johnson, the end is just to be the Prime Minister and one senses that he does not care either how he got there or how he gets to stay there. To Mrs Johnson, do we worry that she really loves this man, in which case she is an idiot, or that she is using him for her own purposes, in which case she is to be deplored? The combination of all or any of these people in charge of us and the damage they wrought upon the Country with no obvious end in sight is horrible to behold.
We start our review of the week’s clothing cloacas with racing champion Lewis Hamilton and Roscoe the dog at Silverstone circuit. Who can even say what this is?
Roscoe’s face speaks for the nation. The kindest thing that can be said of Lewis’ ridiculous ensemble is that it is clearly a nod to the paint-splattered police during the demonstrations in Barcelona in 2018 when the Catalonians tried to declare independence.
And now we are off to Cannes for the rest of our horror show, starting with actor Rosmund Pike wearing Dior.
Oh dear. Rosamund often gets it wrong, even in Dior, with a preponderance of sideboob peeking out of her heart-shaped fluffy bodice, like a tacky greetings card……
Director Spike Lee, wearing something colourful.
The suit has some merit but not when worn with a driver’s peaked cap and trainers like an acid-induced train trip – with the emphasis on trip.
Actor Florence Pugh, wearing Stella McCartney.
Regular Readers will know that WTF has long nurtured the view that Stella is taking the piss, and here is another example. The lovely Florence is wrapped in a hideous peek-a-boo, shit-coloured thing with both a tit-window and a tummy-window, looking for all the world like a bandaged teddy bear with no neck.
Model Liya Kebede, wearing McQueen.
The tailoring is, as ever, immaculate nearly down to the ankles but the suit is totally ruined by those cascades of arse-paper…..Yurgle.
Actress Luna Wedler, wearing Acne
This is truly terrible; see-through trewsies, which WTF hates almost above all things, combined with what can only be described as Ronnie Barker’s shop-keeper’s coat in Open All Hours which scores the hat-trick of being (i) ugly both in colour and design (ii) ill-fitting, with sleeves designed for an orangutang and (iii) creased to hell.
Actor Kat Graham wearing Jean Paul Gaultier.
Kat appeared in a number of shocking items in Cannes but this is WTF’s choice for the worst, incorporating a ruched lavender nappy and a tsunami of lavender frills from curtains randomly draped across her person.
And finally we have model Elisa de Panicis wearing Farhad Re. This one is BAD.
Elisa used to go out with preening footballer Cristiano Ronald0. Other than that, she has done little apart from walking Red Carpets dressed in provocative outfits like this one with a bodice like the eye-masks you get in sex shops and a skirt that flashes her panties under a waistband like the entrance of Luna Park in Melbourne. An early contender for the WTF Christmas Turkey 2021.
This week’s It’s Got to Go comes from WTF aficionado WTF of Islington who is disgusted by the appalling sexism of the European Handball Federation which has told the Norwegian Ladies’ Beach Handball Team that they are compelled to wear the stipulated uniform of tight bra top and bikini bottoms “no more than 10cm in size”. The team had asked to wear blue shorts instead but was refused and threatened with a fine of 1500 Euros.
The Men’s Beach Handball Team wears tee-shirts and shorts. No one is asking them to wear prickboasters allowing sand to disappear up their cracks so that we can all perve up at the sight of their arses. But women must bare most of their bums for the delectation of the onlookers. It’s despicable and It’s Got To Go.
OK Readers, that’s your lot for this week. Keep those splendid suggestions coming in for It’s Got To Go, not to mention your top comments. Let us meet again next Friday. Be good x.