Samantha Cameron recently appeared on Great British Sports Relief Bake Off for charity. Sam knocked up some crab vols au vent, a Paris Brest (which did quite not go to plan) and, as her showstopper, a blue-iced cake with waves, a rosette, surf boards and ripe strawberries hidden inside. She sailed through her round with the judges showering her with praise. Paul Hollywood was so effusive that WTF suspected that he must have been after a place on the June Honours List.
Now imagine that Dave were to invite his posh mates from the Chipping Norton set round for one of his “country suppers”, promising them his wife’s winning cake for pudding. They cancel other plans. They set SKY+ to record Call the Midwife. They book the babysitter. But when they get to the dessert, there is a cake with blue icing, yes; but there are no waves, no rosette, no surf boards and bugger all strawberries. In short, they have been conned.
So it is with Dave’s negotiations with the European Union. Sam may have messed up her Paris Brest but for Dave, it is going tits up. Dave promised that the government would stop in-work benefits for EU migrants until they had been here for four years. Instead, he got some inchoate verbiage that in “situations of inflows of workers from other member states of an exceptional magnitude”, limits can be imposed – the so-called emergency brake that no one knows when and how to use. (Bye-bye waves). He promised to “end the ability of EU jobseekers to claim any job-seeking benefits at all”, adding that “if jobseekers have not found a job within six months, they will be required to leave”. In fact it had already been agreed before these talks that new arrivals would have to leave if they were still jobless after six months, but they can still claim job seeking benefits after three months. (Bye-bye rosette). As for stopping child benefit or child tax credits where the children did not live in the UK. That didn’t happen either. (Bye-bye surfboards). He did make some progress on sovereignty, getting acknowledgement that the UK was not committed to closer political integration but he has not achieved formal recognition of the EU having multiple currencies and has not repatriated EU social and employment law. (There go the strawberries….)
Dave promised us that he would support leaving unless we got satisfaction. Of course, he did not mean it. It was all a charade to be seen to be doing something, to offer a bone to the rabid Euro-sceptics in his party and to the UKIP voters outside it. But they do not want his bone. As WTF’s mother used to say, they spit themselves on his bone. They know that Dave was never going to deliver. They know that you do not go into negotiations when the other side knows you do not intend to hold out, even if you say you do, which you don’t. It is difficult to decide whether one is more scornful of the dishonesty of the exercise or the failure to carry it off. If you were a guest in Dave’s kitchen, you would reclaim your bottle of wine or artisanal sea-salted caramels from the hall table and leave in disgust.
We turn to the weeks sartorial scrapings, all from the Screen Actors Guild Awards where some serious assaults were perpetrated on our eyeballs. Here is the roll-call of infamy.
Julianne Moore wearing Givenchy.
WTF has never seen the point of chartreuse, whether drinking it or wearing it, and she deeply dislikes this crinkled, iridescent dress with built-in tit bandage. It looks some sort of sari petticoat gone very wrong….
The winner of the Best Actress award on the night, Brie Larson wearing Versace.
The colour is pretty (and matches her award). The sandals are good. But it is creased. It has a tit window. And it is held together with iron clips. The back is weird as well.
The seams are puckered and there is some of sort of industrial hoist strap. Is this Donatella’s homage to the working class – they can look at it but they cannot afford it? Not that they would want to…
Christina Hendricks wearing Christian Siriano, and her husband Geoffrey Arend.
Geoffrey (who is in Madam Secretary) is wearing a teeshirt with a star underneath his DJ. WTF suspects that he may have spilled something on his formal shirt before leaving home and therefore had to put his skateboarding teeshirt on again. As for his lovely wife, she is swathed in more damask than the French windows in a dowager’s drawing room.
Eva Longoria wearing WTF bugbear Julien Macdonald.
At first sight, WTF assumed that Eva had come straight from a costume fitting for her role as the crocodile in Peter Pan.
Then she saw the back view…
Michael Shannon, nominated for the movie 99 Houses. (The bombshell behind him in shocking pink is Sofia Vergara wearing Vera Wang with her new husband Joe Manganiello. Both of whom look good).
It is hard to look bad in black tie but Michael has managed it. He resembles a waiter in an ill-fitting, shit-coloured jacket.
Carol Burnett wearing Bob Mackie and Ugg slippers.
Carol is 82 and was a trailblazer for female comediennes so WTF is going to overlook the suit. But not the UGGs. Or the bare legs. In fact, particularly the bare legs.
Susan Sarandon wearing MaxMara, and her daughter Eva Amurri Martino in Gabriela Cadena.
This breaks WTF’s heart. She loves Susan. 69 years old and sassy as hell. But that suit will not do. The trousers have been tacked up by a chimpanzee as part of an animal experiment and hang aimlessly above her ankles. And whilst Susan has a magnificent pair of knockers, we do not want to see her bra. As for Eva, she needs an iron, a hairbrush and the next size up.
Melora Hardin from top TV show Transparent. No one has owned up to designing this dress. Would you?
This is a mullet dress made out of a kiddie’s bedspread. It has duck faces on it. What is occurring?
Lori Petty wearing Lord knows what.
Lori played a nutter in Orange is the New Black and she seems to be still in character. A Pink crop jacket and voluminous trousers are not the new Red Carpet. Someone should have grabbed those dangling straps and hauled her away – for her own good.
And finally, Kate Mara wearing Valentino.
Oh very dear. Suspending bits of tulle from a giant curtain ring and wrapping a couple of cheap fabric belts around your waist does not make this a dress. Just. Very. Bad.
This week’s It’s Got To Go comes from WTF aficionado BJ from Ealing. So cogent is her complaint that WTF will set it out verbatim. It concerns the petty trick whereby petrol is not advertised at its real cost (which in the sign pictured is of course 109p a litre), but less one tenth of a penny per litre.
It is a patronising, untrue and treats the consumer as a gullible fool. If I put a couple of litres in my spare jerry-can, will they give me two-tenths of a pence in change? I think not, because it doesn’t exist as currency. It is not the money that is objectionable – what is exasperating is the assumption that we can be led around so easily, like idiots. It’s Got To Go.
OK Readers, that’s your lot for this week. Keep those comments rolling in and do not neglect your excellent suggestions for It’s Got To Go. Let us meet again next Friday. Be good x
Julianne Moore’s dress came un-stitched at the waistline. Lori Petty looks like she’s wearing one of those nice jackets that do up at the back, and matching trousers. I bet Carol Burnett’s shoes are the only ones that didn’t get kicked off under the table during the event.
1.) It’s Got To Go.
In the U.S. the gasoline prices have always included that nine tenths of a penny per gallon in the advertised price. It annoys me, but so does the 8.25% sales tax that is added to most consumer goods sold here in Houston. I expect European VAT rates are applied with equal disregard for available currency units.
When I was a teenager (at about the same time you were a teenager) there was some public discussion in the U.S. of allowing of gasoline stations to round up to the nearest penny. The response was immediate, loud, and often unhinged. This would allow the evil oil companies to unethically and immorally steal more money from the pockets of hard-working American families. The discussion ended quickly and quietly.
2.) …and Lori Petty looks like a cross between “I Dream of Jeannie” and a refugee from The Beatles’ “Sergeant Pepper” album cover.
Poor Brie Larson with her tattered dress and luggage strap? What’s the point of that? Didn’t Carol’s mother ever tell her bare legs are NOT done at black tie events? Loved your comparison of Eva with the crocodile–such a dreadful back zip.