Dear Readers, this is a little earlier than usual, but I trust that you will find it edifying, horrifying and entertaining.
WTF was beside herself with disappointment when the Diamanté Jubilee failed to deliver any Royal sartorial shockers, but she has had time to reflect on the whole shebang. There were, in WTFs opinion, some grave errors. There was the Royal Barge awash with red velvet looking like a floating bordello. There was the absence of any form of a heater which meant that an octogenerian and a nonagenerian had to shiver their way along the Thames (this is England – you cannot count on warm weather. Ever.) There was Her Holiness the Duchess of Cambridge looking as lovely as ever but sadly blending into the upholstery. There was the ridiculous concert stage which seemed to have been assembled from a MFI clearance sale, complete with a bevy of clapped out has-beens with very improbable hair (both colour and quantity) warbling out of tune. And worst of all there was that tawdry plastic-looking crystal with which HM had to light the final beacon. It resembled something you would see in a gypsy tent on Blackpool Pier, the one you go into when you’re pissed and want your fortune told.
Last weekend we had Trooping the Colour. The ceremonial was great. We Brits know how to march about in colourful uniforms with a military band giving it their all in a Force 8 gale. Plus the day was enlivened by not one but two millinery excrescences worn by those perennial offenders, Princesses Beatrice and Eugenie. These are two of the very worst hats that WTF ever did see.
These two are bound together in a lifelong double bill- Laurel and Hardy, Ben and Jerry, Beatrice and Eugenie. To avoid colour clashing, it would be a good idea for them to communicate in advance about their proposed outfits before climbing into their carriage. Beatrice could have mentioned to Eugenie that she was going to wear a droopy headscarf in puce and airforce blue to match her suit. Eugenie could have informed Beatrice that she had a nice red coat and was planning on nicking the partridge out of the larder and sticking it on her head. WTF fervently hopes that Cook wasn’t too disconcerted on discovering that the evening meal was en route down the Mall in an open carriage…..
Next, we have Meryl Streep and husband Don Gummer attending one of President Obama’s White House soirées.
This gives WTF no pleasure at all. Meryl is a fine actress and has been a huge Hollywood star for the last 30 years. But being a huge star does not mean that she needs to dress in a tent big enough to accommodate the entire US Senate. As Dame Edna Everage used to say when picking on a token fat woman in the audience (not that Meryl is remotely fat, which makes her choice of dress all the more bewildering) “what lovely material – and how lucky to find so much of it”.
And now this is Anna Friel accompanying her beau Rhys Ifans to the premiere of his new movie, Spiderman.
Anna is sporting a most deplorable new trend, the double slit genitalia curtains. This is designed to ensure that if the paparazzi don’t get a glimpse of something naughty from one side, there is a good chance they will get it from the other.
Now prepare yourself for the silliest trousers in the history of trousers, worn by Will.i.am. It is rare that WTF laughs out loud upon seeing an outfit, but this one prompted paroxyms of mirth.
The top half of the suit is great, but what on earth is going on inside those trousers? Is he wearing giant incontinence pants? Or, given that he has now confessed that he can’t sing without one, or at all, perhaps he is carrying his own autotune machine around with him just in case, or should that be just in crotch, someone asks him to belt out an impromptu rendition of I’ve Gotta Feeling. As for the slipper trend, it’s silly and WTF can’t be doing with it.
Finally, we have whatever is the opposite of the crème de la crème in the shape of Katy Perry, who is looking frankly ridiculous.
WTF????? This costume, if such it can be called, was last seen on a ladyboy in a Bangkok bar. It is not at all obvious why Katy bothered to wear anything at all. She might just as well have bought a spray can of sparkle and created her own minge mask. Here is a novel idea. Why don’t these women stop showing us their bits and just sing?
And now, dear Readers, the floor is yours. Comments please…..