WTF is in deep mourning for Arsenal Football Club and the imminent departure of Robin Van Persie, who, in the tradition of previous star players, is heading off to pastures new and another £100,000 a week, stopping only to dump a large bucket of shit over the Club on the way out. If this post is more mordant than usual, it is because WTF is experiencing a variety of thoughts suicidal, homicidal and just plain venemous which will probably see her sectioned by tea time. Meanwhile, the weather in the UK continues to be wet, wet, wet and orange coloured nonentities roam the landscape for the sole purpose of getting their pictures into the Mail Online. If you have never read it, don’t start. It’s like crack cocaine. Before you know it, you are trapped in a world of “amazing abs”, “bikini bodies” and “toned thighs”, gazing at pictures of Z listers and assorted scrubbers attending premieres and pointless events like the LoveLite Liposuction Launch, not to mention endless snaps of heaving cleavage and women’s bottoms.
And then of course there has been Paris Fashion Week. There are two aspects to this. One is a parade of largely unwearable and ludicrous clothes at sky high prices. The other is the parade of A list celebrities ostentatiously photographed at each event in, surprise, surprise, something by the designer of the show they are about to see. As a spectacle, it is entertaining and horrifying in equal measure. The models are of course skeletal, but worryingly so are most of the celebs. They have to be or they wouldn’t fit into their borrowed designer finery. We even had Diane Kruger trotting out the old chestnut that “she forgets to eat”. This is why when you saw a picture of Christina Hendricks sitting next to a couple of Hollywood actresses, she looked enormous. To paraphrase Gloria Swanson in Sunset Boulevard, she isn’t big, it is the other actresses that have got small.
Anyway, let us kick off with one of the aforementioned orange nonentities. This is Lizzie Cundy and this, dear readers, is the quintessence of British Celebrity.
WTF is proud to announce the arrival of a new section, The Emperor’s New Clothes, in which unfortunate women are somehow persuaded into wearing something “Designer” which is just terribly, terribly terrible. Here the woman in question is Kelly Macdonald and the Designer in question is Diane von Furstenburg.
Now WTF likes Kelly. She is excellent in Boardwalk Empire, which is one of WTF’s favourite shows, and was also fab in No Country for Old Men. But no-one, however lovely, could carry off this monstrosity. What WTF needs to know is who persuaded Kelly to climb into a kaftan which would look big on Demis Roussos and horrible bondage sandals which don’t fit her and squish up her toes. Note to Kelly – next time, get a pedicure. It is, by the way, a great tribute to her that she is managing to smile. Now that’s acting.
And now one for the family album – the Addams family. Here is Mick and his former wife, Bianca, at the wedding of their daughter Jade in the heart of the English countryside.
Yikes. The bride and groom have scrubbed up well, although each has a rather glazed expression. Bianca, on the other hand, looks like Morticia. In The Importance of Being Earnest, Algernon remarks that “it is perfectly childish to be in deep mourning for a man who is actually staying for a whole week with you in your house as a guest. I call it grotesque”. With due deference to Oscar Wilde, it is yet more grotesque to wear funereal black to your daughter’s country wedding, with or without a white feathered hat and then to sabotage the wedding album by scowling at the camera. As for the gloves, WTF can only surmise that Bianca is going on to referee at a snooker tournament. In contrast, Mick has gone to the other extreme. Perhaps to compensate for his ex’s miserable demeanour, he is grinning like a lunatic and has come dressed as a stick of rock.
Next up is US TV personality and reality star La La Anthony at the BET Awards. Get ready for this.
You know when you are sitting in the jacuzzi and the air gets into your swimsuit and blows you up like the Michelin Man? That is what this spangly babygro reminds me of. And in case you’re wondering, La La is not a large woman which makes her choice of outfit even more absurd. The tattooed feet spoil the lovely sandals and her toes are falling out of them. Note to La La – ditch the stylist.
This is one of those moments WTF dreads – one of her heroines looking so bad that it is her duty to feature them. So with no pleasure, I give you the wonderful Susan Sarandon in her pyjamas.
Susan is a gorgeous woman, rather than an emaciated stick insect with a frozen face and she is a fine actress. But when an incredulous WTF set about investigating the provenance of this get-up, she saw that it was described as “a royal blue suit hand made and embroidered in China”. WTF hopes that Susan did not pay a lot of money for it as she could have picked up something similar from Stanley Market in Hong Kong for about £1.50. It also makes her look very stumpy.She has teamed her jim jams with a pair of two-tone patent spats. Whoever allowed Susan to go out dressed like this should be made to stand on that x on the red carpet, at which point rotten fruit should be thrown at him or her until it runs out.
And so we arrive at Paris Fashion Week and another in the edition of Designers Who Need to See A Doctor. Today’s Designer is Ulyana Sergeenko, and here she is plugging her own designs whilst attending Jean Paul Gaultier’s show.
Ulyana has clearly been inspired by those hideous Spanish doll-cum-loo-roll-holders your auntie brings you back from Benidorm. This creation has a sheer skirt and a stupid veil and WTF isn’t having it. Bianca Jagger must be kicking herself that this outfit was not available in time for her appearance as Monster of the Bride.
Still in Paris and another edition of Stylists who Need to Go to Specsavers. This week the stylist is Anna dello Russo, fashionista extraordinaire, Editor At Large of Vogue Japan and champion of something called maximised fashion, i.e. over the top, turn left and keep going. It is quite a surprise to see Anna bare-headed as she is usually sporting a fascinator about three feet high.
No, sorry, WTF is not having this either. Anna is part of the designer conspiracy that looking like a prat is OK because it is Fashion. You get retina fatigue just looking at her. The shoes are great but the whole thing is absurdly overstyled and the peek-a-boo, look-at-me dress is like a tablecloth from a necromancer’s dinner party. Note to Anna – eat something.