Now don’t panic. This isn’t about football, it is about money and football. Nothing about offside or anything frightening. We’ll get to the frocks in a moment.
Last week, we touched upon the retirement of Sir Alex Ferguson, manager of Manchester United after United clocked up Sir Alex’s 13th Premier League win. They had a big parade through Manchester and it pissed down with rain. Meanwhile, recent medical research has suggested that retirement can damage your health, both mental and physical. And that’s just Sir Alex. Imagine what him being around all the time is going to do to Lady Ferguson…. And now former United megastar David Beckham has hung up his boots aged 38. Except unlike Sir Alex, he will be prancing about in his undies rather than planting peonies…..
Across the City, rivals Manchester City have just sacked their floppy-haired manager, Italian Roberto Mancini. Although he won the FA Cup in year 1 and the Premier League in year 2 and endeared himself to the fans by wearing a blue and white scarf large enough to wrap around the stadium, this year he only managed runner-up in both League and Cup and so it is Arrivederci, do not pass Go and collect your multi-million pound payoff alongside your P45 on your way out. You see, the owners of football clubs these days have changed. In the old days your chairman was a local businessmen who ploughed the profits of his success into the club he loved. If the team did well, the players would be invited over for a fork-in supper (Coronation Chicken and rice salad) or, if they had actually won something, a bash at the local golf club. Not now. Now you have consortia and huge corporations buying in with leveraged funds or you have Russian oligarchs or Sheikhs who have got the yacht, the plane, the fleet of cars and the Caribbean island and fancy playing Subuteo with real footballers. They want success and they want it yesterday and if the manager doesn’t provide it, he can fuck right off. So Mancini gets the heave-ho and Chelsea stand-in manager Rafa Benitez, who has just secured entry into the Champions League and won the Europa Cup, is not having his contract renewed by Roman Abramovich, the Chairman who looks like the village idiot but happens to be a zillionaire. Instead Jose Mourinho, who won the League for Chelsea several times but got the push and an £18m pay-off is coming back to replace him. Confused?
And there at the bottom of the pile are the fans paying ever increasing prices to watch a load of mercenaries playing in their colours whilst patently not giving a stuff and earning more in a week than many fans will earn in a lifetime. WTF noticed something at the Cup Final as the losers went up to get their medals. A Man City fan rushed forward and gave captain Vincent Kompany his club scarf. The guy had probably paid £50 for his fare and £100 for his ticket and £10 for a Wembley Way Whizzburger and £20 for a couple of beers and £5 for his souvenir programme and he handed over his £30 acrylic piece of shit scarf to his hero, despite the fact that the team had been abysmal. And what happened? Kompany took it, draped it round his neck, went up two steps and then either dropped it or handed it to a minion because by the time he got to the Royal Box, it wasn’t there. That’s football today. Oh and don’t forget to renew your season tickets….the Chairman needs a new Lotus.
The TV Baftas were also held last weekend. It was a black tie event. But not that sort of black tie, Tina Malone…
Tina, who specialises in playing ghastly foul-mouthed scrubbers, used to be fat but has now shed 10 stone. Either way she is ghastly and is one of those celebritees who has to tell you everything about herself so we know that she is married to a toyboy 19 years her junior (she is 50), that she is bankrupt but saved up for IVF and -breaking news this, Readers -that she is now pregnant, possibly with twins. These financial constraints have clearly taken their toll on Tina’s ability to scrub up nicely for the big events which might explain the old sweater and road workers’ jacket but not the stocking-effect tights worn with peep-toe shoes (a major fashion crime) and the demonic smile last spotted on Jack Nicholson in The Shining.
This is Australian dancer Peta Murgatroyd off Dancing with the Stars, arriving at the Maxim Hot 100 party.
Flabbergasted. That has to be the mot juste. Flabbergasted. I think it is fair to say that those tits started off life in a factory somewhere and became attached to Peta only subsequently. How on earth does she dance without falling over? As for the ensemble, part Victorian dirty photo part Britney Spears and worn, unaccountably, with wrestling boots, it could very well be one of the worst outfits WTF has ever seen. Like, ever, as Taylor Swift would say….
Chloe is the face of Absolut or should that be the throat? Some are still recovering from the sight of Chloe having unsimulated oral sex with Vincent Gallo in The Brown Bunny, a film generally acknowledged to be one of the worst ever shown in Cannes. That may have been revolting but this outfit is as bad, composed as it appears to be from an old leotard, army boots and half a housecoat. One would be forgiven for thinking that Chloe was waiting to go into hair and makeup rather than having already been in it.
Here is Paz Vega wearing Roberto Cavalli on the Red Carpet at Cannes.
WTF hates Roberto Cavalli with a vengeance because he is vulgar, vulgar, vulgar and although Pax is a beautiful woman, WTF defies anyone to look good in a corselette worn under one of those stretchy plastic trellises you put over duty free bottles to stop them breaking in transit. It must be said that Paz does not look happy and frankly it is not difficult to see why.
Now we have Eva Longoria wearing Russian designer, Yanina.
That zip is ridiculous and although she can barely sew on a button, WTF knows that putting a white zip into sheer dark fabric rather than a dark zip down the side of the dress where it would not be seen is just bonkers, even had it been sewn with a steady hand rather than by a seamstress on the downward incline of the Big Dipper.
And so we come to perennial favourite Nancy dell’Olio. Have a receptacle handy and a damp hand towel to wipe your brow….
Oh. My. Goodness. Me. Here’s the thing about a pussycat bow, made popular by Margaret Thatcher and inexplicably enjoying a comeback. It is supposed to be worn as part of a blouse, not instead of a blouse. But then Nancy puts the blouse into blowsy. WTF is going to say this one more time. Nancy, PUT THEM AWAY!!!! Exhibitionism is treatable. Get help – now.
OK Readers, that’s your lot for this week. Keep reading. Keep commenting. Spread the word to your nearest and dearest, and we shall meet again next week.