So here we are nearly at the end of Week 3 of the General Election. It seems much, much longer, doesn’t it? WTF can feel herself dying inside, atrophied like one of Tutankhamen’s testicles. Hour upon hour a party apparatchik appears on the airwaves and mouths some pre-rehearsed mantra which they then repeat regardless of the question put to them or whether it has anything whatsoever to do with the price of fish. Labour and Tories are both guilty of this but this Tuesday brought a particularly ripe example with a Triumvirate of Tory Toadies, sadly all women. You could barf out your breakfast listening to Theresa May, Home Secretary, lose your lunch listening to Liz Truss, Environment Secretary and then throw up your tea listening to Priti Patel, Exchequer Secretary to the Treasury. None of them appeared to have the faintest idea how the Tories were going to pay for the billions of pounds they were promising to lavish on the NHS. Instead they parroted out their answers in a manner that would make any self-respecting parrot bang its head repeatedly on the bars of its cage in a bid for unconsciousness. Priti in particular was pretty fucking awful. “Where is the money coming from, Ms Patel?” “We have a strong economic plan”. “But where is the money coming from Ms Patel?” “We have a strong economic plan”. “Yes, but where is the money coming from Ms Patel?” “We have a strong economic plan”. “Tea or coffee, Ms Patel?” “We have a strong economic plan”. They are not talking to us and they are not talking to the interviewers. They just want a soundbite and then they move on to dodge the same questions posed by someone else. Either they think people don’t notice or they don’t care.
In the main, you just look at this lot and hate them. Not dislike them or despise them but really, really hate them. You want to take your 42 inch HD all-bells-and-whistles TV or your state-of-the-art DAB Digital radio and jump up and down on it until it lies in smithereens and people stop wittering on about backstabbing and strong economic plans and difficult decisions and last night’s buzzword coalition of chaos and what the Labour Government should have done/could have done/failed to do in 13 years and what the Coalition should have done/could have done/failed to do in 5 years and just answer the bloody question.
Meanwhile, WTF’s Election Rotten Eggs Awards go to:
*Chuka Umuna, smug, smooth and unctuous like a High Class Car dealer;
*David Cameron for being too chickenshit-scared to debate Miliband face to face;
*Michael Fallon, a man who redefines insignificance, for branding Miliband a backstabber for standing in an open election against his brother;
*Liz Truss for endorsing Fallon’s embarrassing epithet and attacking Miliband’s character, having herself cheated on her husband with a Tory frontbencher who was also married (Liz is clearly an irony-free zone); and last but not least
*Nigel Farage for being Nigel Farage, but especially for suggesting that NHS is awash with HIV-infected foreign persons stealing drugs from Blighty-born Brits.
A plague on all their houses. Roll on 7 May.
We now leave political disasters and consider fashion disasters, starting with the Olivier Theatre Awards and actress Claire Sweeney.
Claire seems to have decorated her dress with road-kill. Which is just plain weird.
Next to Brazil and an AIDS-fundraiser where we come across Kylie Minogue wearing Jean Paul Gaultier.
Jean Paul has gone big on this half and half thing and has gift-wrapped Kylie in half a shocking pink parachute. It is very silly, as if someone had sliced a pair of Kylies in half and then reassembled them the wrong way round.
Here is singer Katy Perry at the Coachella festival in California wearing this ghastly Moschino thing.
When @WTF_EEK tweeted this picture of Katy on Sunday, there was much speculation whether she was wearing plaits as braces, the provenance of the hair in the said plaits, was the bra made from horse brasses and why she was wearing chaps made from a tablecloth over Spanx Power Panties. WTF is unable to answer any of these questions but she does observe that there is a striking similarity between Katy and the little girl who catches Mogli’s eye at the end of The Jungle Book.
To the MTV Movie Awards in LA and young actress Hailee Steinfeld wearing Rodarte.
Every item of clothing on display is double-dog-ugly from the sheer olive green blouse to the fish-skirt complete with inbuilt fisherman’s net to the vile gladiator bootees. Think Russell Crowe as Maximus in drag going fishing. Are you not entertained? No, actually….
Here is dancer/rapper/Heaven-know-what Redfoo wearing Heaven-knows-what.
A shorts suit (which WTF hates almost above all things) made from an old deckchair. Putrid.
And of course there was actress Bai Ling dressed as a dragon.
Regular Readers will know that WTF is obsessed with Game of Thrones and it seems Bai Ling shares that obsession and has dressed as one of Khaleesi’s dragons complete with mesh loincloth and horned tits. It is fortunate that LA is warm as it would have been tricky to slip a coat on…..
Talking of Game of Thrones, here is Oona Chaplin (aka Talisa Stark) wearing Stella McCartney.
Talisa met a very nasty end in Series 3 and Oona’s floppy, dropped-crotch sleepsuit with cheap-looking lace trim is little better. Stella has the temerity to charge £2,050 for this rubbish and is clearly taking the piss.
Another in our series of appalling-dressed footballers, this week featuring Aston Villa’s Charles N’Zogbia reporting for training.
Finally, we have singer Toni Braxton wearing Zeynep Erdogan.
Toni love. You look brilliant for 47 or any age. But just because you can wear a decomposing raffia basket as a skirt and draw on your copious boobage with a magic marker does not mean that you should. And lose those dangly things preventing a full-on Minge Moment – they are creepy. Meanwhile, note to Zeynep – those are the worst seams WTF ever did see in her life.
This week’s It’s Got To Go is about obscenely priced shoes. Like these Louboutins worn by the bride when she married the heir to the Sultan of Brunei on Sunday – yours for £2,495 (the shoes, not the heir). And as if they were not sparkly enough, they were worn with a solid gold anklet. Shame about the Norah Batty wrinkly pop socks…
OK Readers that’s your lot for this week. The paucity of comments for the last blog caused WTF to get all worked up with worry so keep them coming in and don’t forget your suggestions for It’s Got To Go whilst you’re at it. Let us meet again next Friday. Be good x