Hallo Readers,

There is a splendid song performed by Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin and Bing Crosby  called “You’ve either got or you haven’t got style” (it could be WTF’s theme tune) containing the lyric “you’ve either got or you haven’t got class”. Well, class is the big story this week in Britain.  Andrew Mitchell, the Cabinet minister charged with keeping Tory MPs in line, berated a Downing  Street copper who declined to let him and his bicycle through the main gate. Andrew, who maintains the lofty air of the public school prefect he once was, is said to have sworn at the officer and called him a ” f**king pleb”. He denies either swearing or using the word “pleb” but admits to losing his temper and he has apologised. However, as he has not told us what it was he admits to saying, it is unclear what he had to apologise for and the row has rumbled on for a whole week. Andrew has been getting the worst press since Slobodan Milosevic, people are queuing up to hate him and the papers are bursting with anecdotes of his rudeness and snobbery. This is not great for Andrew  but it is worse for David Cameron who has been trying to play down the perception that his Government is stuffed full of toffs and posh boys. Of course, Dave is rich as Croesus, went to Eton and is married to the daughter of an Earl. George Osborne also went to Eton, is heir to the Osborne and Little fabric fortune and has a superior, sneering expression that makes you want to attack him with a copy of Das Kapital. Andrew Mitchell went to Rugby, the school attended by the legendary Flashman. In fact this mob makes the Downton Abbey lot look like guests on the Jeremy Kyle show. To show that he is really one of the hoi polloi, Dave has depended on annual photoshoots where he and Sam are photographed on a Sleazyjet flight to Spain every spring and sitting on a windswept beach in Cornwall every summer. Dave is always wearing the same blue polo shirt which is obviously then put away until the next photocall. And as it is party conference season, stand by for piccies of Sam in a Marks and Spencer frock before she goes home and changes back into Peter Pilotto or Christopher Kane. Pass the pork scratchings, Dave…

Talking of plebs, here is our Z Lister of the week, Lauren Goodger.

Lauren used to be on The Only Way is Essex where she rowed constantly with her on-off fiance Mark Wright (it is now off for good) and moaned about her weight. She now has delusions of grandeur and has left to pursue a solo career despite the fact that she has neither charm nor talent. She already has her own beauty salon, Lauren’s Way, her own tanning range and has just brought out a collection of jewellery, including the glittering bauble on her wrist in the photo above. WTF was most taken to learn that Lauren held a birthday party last week but like Jay Gatsby did not turn up until past 11 pm.  One has to say that Lauren is not a good advertisement for her wares.  She is more orange than a ton of tangerines, has a plastic pout like a rubber tyre and is caked in make-up. Lauren has also made the heinous error of wearing leggings as trousers. The lycra in the flashlights makes her thighs look like rolls of schwartzwurst.

Here is über-über-fashionista Daphne Guinness at a gala for the New York City Ballet in, er, New York City.

Daphne is famous for outré, eye-wateringly expensive haute couture but here she resembles nothing so much as a nun with a broken neck. She probably hasn’t walked anyhere in a while, and could hardly attempt to do so in that preposterous footwear, but given that she has chosen to immobilise herself from the shoulders up, this is just as well. In that Garieng-Hill-Tribes-from-Thailand neck brace, she would be quite unable to look either left or right and probably needed a sherpa to lead her about.  This is a picture of a real Garieng tribeswoman who, it must be said, looks a lot cheerier than her Fifth Avenue counterpart.

 Actually the really scary thing about Daphne, other than the huge amount of money she pisses down the drain on clothes, is that she is only 44 years old.

Like ancient Gaul, this week’s edition of The Emperor’s New Clothes is divided into three parts. First up, we have Zosia Mamet  from US hit series Girls wearing Bihbu Mahopatra. Her grandfather, Russel Crouse, co-wrote The Sound of Music. Without Russel there would have been no Julie Andrews running around Saltzburg with a gaggle of kids dressed in damask singing Do Re Mi. Or for that matter, no Zosia in this horribly, horribly, horrible dress. Actually, it isn’t even as nice as that.

How much does WTF hate this dress? It has Mr. Spock shoulders, tits hidden behind giant Bunny Girl ears and crotch-comfort vents over the knees. And it is about 3 inches too long. The Cell Block H prison wardress hair, minimal makeup and doleful expression make her look like someone en route to a funeral.  Her stylist needs a slap, a P45 and then another slap, and she should also save one for Bihbu.

For Part 2, we have Heidi Klum at the Emmys wearing Alexandre Vauthier. Dah dah, dah dah!!!! Minge moment alert!!! (Yawn)

Heidi is doing that really annoying thing where women whose marriages have broken up expose acres of flesh in order to show their ex what he is missing – it’s the sartorial version of warbling  “I will survive”. (Think Katy Perry after Russell Brand filed for divorce). Heidi is pretty, the colour is pretty but the dress itself is absolutely rank. She either needs a bra or a bodice with built-in support, as this is not so much cleavage as droopage. As for the double-split genitalia curtains, thank Heavens it wasn’t windy. The pose is reminiscent of John Wayne about to gallop across Texas in pursuit of the Comanche.  Yee haw. With the emphasis on haw……

For Part 3, we have actress Rose MacGowan at the opening of the new Dolce & Gabbana shop in Milan and wearing one of their own creations. (Did you know that D&G design the kit for A.C. Milan? Me neither….)

By the look of the other guests, Rose is simultaneously underdressed and overdressed, which is no mean achievement. If a Christmas cracker were to go out with its knickers showing, this is what it would look like. The dress is ghastly and it also makes her look enormous, so, as our footballing friends at A.C. Milan would say, she is having a nightmare. Last week we had Jenna Dewan at the Marchesa show at NYFW with silver dragons holding up her boobage. This week we have Rose awash with golden owls in turbans. If WTF wants to see cutesy animals, she can watch The Jungle Book on DVD. She doesn’t need to see them crawling over designer frocks on the red carpet, or, in this case, the rather nice parquet.

OK readers, over to you. Hit the comment button……