This is the time of the year when you are worried about achieving the perfect beach body (unless you are reading this in the Southern half of Australia, in which case Welcome and sorry about the Ashes). WTF has therefore come up with something to help shed those unwanted kilos called the WTF Royal Baby Diet©. Just sit in the front of your TV or computer and find some coverage of the Royal Baby. Have a large receptacle handy and a packet of wet wipes. Then get watching. Start with a double dose of Sky News Presenter Kay Burley running up and down outside the Lindo Wing screaming “It’s a Boy!”, harassing baffled tourists fresh from Paddington Station like the eponymous Bear and generally behaving like someone on day release from Broadmoor. Or try some footage of the Bucklebury villagers wittering on about their pride in bringing up HRH Baby because Kate and HRH Baby will spend a few months living quietly in the Middleton family home although from the way they are carrying on you would think that the vicar has organised a rota of wet nurses amongst the local womenfolk. For those wanting instant results, WTF suggests a dose of some old git purporting to be a Town Crier who kept ringing his bell and shouting “oh yay, oh yay”. After the third sighting, WTF experienced a strong desire to stick that bell where the sun don’t shine. The emetic qualities of all or any of the above will guarantee that you will be throwing up till dawn.
The thing about the Royal Birth is that like the Greek tragedies and Racine and Corneille, all the real action happens offstage. The Royal Wedding gave you the pageantry and the Abbey and the ridiculous outfits (think Princesses Beatrice and Eugenie) and of course the Bride wearing Alexander McQueen and her bridesmaid’s ivory-clad arse. But there are no cameras in the Delivery Room focussed on the point of exit, no record of William shouting “Look, look, you can see the head” and all that malarkey. Which means that there are hours of waiting about with no timetable which means that there are hours of presenters, “pundits” and public talking bollocks about nothing because there is nothing to talk about. Special minus points for Paul Harrison, Sky News’ Royal Correspondent, who allegedly had it on good authority that HRH Baby would be a girl called Margaret and repeated this assertion at every opportunity until the very moment when the news broke that, er, it was a boy.
Which brings us to the announcement itself. 150 years ago, displaying a notice announcing the birth of an heir to the heir to the heir of the Throne made sense, there being no other method of immediate communication.
Now with Kay bloody Burley and Paul “Its-a-girl-called-Margaret” Harrison beamed straight into your living room, laptop or mobile, it is bonkers (not to mention very un-Green) to produce a piece of A4 announcing something that everybody already knows, put it in the back of a limousine (probably with its seatbelt on) and drive it 2.1 miles across London, there to mount it on a tacky-looking gilded easel by the railings and let saddoes take photos of it. In the dark. And then there were the other saddoes queuing all night to make sure they have their 3 seconds in front of the Royal Easel in the morning…… These people should really get out more..
Oh, and HRH Baby is called George. Who knew?
Let us start the week’s sartorial horror show with actress and WTF regular Chelsee Healey wearing a most revolting ensemble.
It is just terrible. It doesn’t fit on the bust and it is too tight on the stomach and there is more camel toe than a convention of dromedaries. There must have been something, anything, better than this in the shops. As for the sandals and bag…..
Now we meet actress Bai Ling in an outfit which WTF cannot understand, try as she may.
These are bloomers. Victorian bloomers. Gosh they’re awful. And there is far too much tit. WTF also deplores the foot tattoo as she hates any foot tattoo and especially this one.
Let us welcome newcomer Evangeline Lilly off Lost and star of the new movie The Hobbit – the Desolation of Smaug. Whatever the hell that means….
In a previous post, WTF admitted that she could not bear The Hobbit or Lord of the Rings. Truth to tell, she would rather dip her head in a bucket of shit than watch a movie based on either but she likes Evangeline who has now taken to writing children’s books herself. That said this blue strapless onesie is just awful, particularly the little gathered trousers and stupid buttons. It looks as if it is made of terry-towelling. You see, this is exactly what gets WTF all hot and bothered. Beautiful woman. Shops full of lovely clothes. And she wears this?
We move onto Cate Blanchett wearing Balenciaga.
WTF is bemused and then she is bemused some more. The colour is pretty and the couture expertise is evident, but it is just so weird that even someone with the regal authority of the wonderful Cate cannot get away with it. The fact is that it looks like a giant vagina decorated with fairy lights, a sort of mind-fuck vajazzle.
At the same event was Solange Knowles wearing Prada.
Or, as WTF likes to call her, Solangé. Why should Beyoncé be Beyoncé but Solange not be Solangé? Why should one sister have the acute but not the other? I mean, it could lead to extreme psychological damage. Anyway, be that howsoever it may be, Solangé looks extremely silly. This creased skirt and top combo seems to have been put together from those ghastly embroidered tea towels you buy on holiday under the delusion that they will look cute in your kitchen in Clapham. And the back is even worse….
Origami tea towels are a new one to WTF, and on the evidence here, they will never catch on.
Finally, we have rapper Azaelia Banks. This is bad. Be warned….
Yikes. I think the word I am looking for is “Why”? If you must wear a lime green onesie recycled from one of Lewis Hamilton’s cast-off tyres, go ahead. If you really need a cut-out arse-revealer, vile as it is, so be it although you should be horsewhipped even for contemplating it. But then spare us the visible thong… By the way, the padded arse look is what HRH Baby will be wearing for the next few years, but he has an excuse BECAUSE HE IS A BABY.
OK Readers, that’s your lot for this week. We shall meet again next Friday and I shall treasure your input in the meantime. Be good x