wtffashionshark

Hallo Readers,

Four years ago, WTF described the Olympics, somewhat churlishly, as a process where someone you have never heard of from somewhere you didn’t know existed can win a medal in a sport you would not be caught dead watching, even if you had ever heard of it, which you haven’t. There are many events in which she has no interest, namely anything involving horses, guns, golf clubs, hockey sticks, canoes, boats, kayaks, go-karts, BMX bikes, boxing gloves or over-muscled people of indeterminate gender throwing things a great distance whilst emitting loud grunting  noises. Basketball? It is netball for blokes. The rules of track cycling are incomprehensible and it is difficult to tell who is in the lead as they all look the same in tight lycra (see below) with upturned Alessi fruit bowls on their heads. But our gold medal cyclists did brilliantly and there is much pleasure to be had generally from watching running (if you can banish your drug doubts), swimming (ditto), gymnastics and diving, particularly when Team GB wins. And although WTF does not see why tennis is an Olympic sport, she, like many others, sat up late into the night watching Andy Murray triumph over Juan Martin Del Potro, despite some jolly unsporting behaviour from the crowd and the excellence of his opponent.

The point of the Olympics is that the best of the best (minus the currently identified drug cheats and Russians various) in every sport compete against each other every four years and all in one place. But the place is the problem. Rio de Janeiro, a city with huge economic problems – namely, that it is virtually bankrupt. Teachers have gone months without pay, pensions remain unpaid and Guanabara Bay, where our gallant sailors scooped up their gold medals, is full of sewage. Many people live in squalor and in abject poverty. Despite this, however, Rio has seen fit to spend at least $4.6bn on hosting the Games, going 50% over budget. The favelas have been hidden from tourists behind colourfully-painted walls. There is a new airport and a new subway running from the Olympic site to the areas where posh people live. There are flashy high-rise blocks which currently house the athletes but which will then be turned into expensive apartments with fat-cat developers making millions. Is it money well spent? The citizens of Rio certainly do not think so. They demonstrated before the Games and the stadia have been noticeably empty, not just because tickets prices are so high but because they resent the whole, ridiculous grandiosity and the fact that money which is sorely needed elsewhere has been lavished on a three-week chimera.

Does it actually matter where the Games are held? A velodrome is a velodrome, a pool is a pool.  Would Jason Kenny’s achievements be any less stunning had he won his many gold medals in Rotherham? Or in a permanent Olympic venue with the infrastructure already in place? Every four years, we have this caravanserai, preceded by the unedifying bidding process where dodgy local officials “entertain” even dodgier IOC officials, the whole thing presided over by the huge global brands who have the final say about everything in exchange for their sponsorship. As viewers settle back on their sofas to watch someone in Rio do something faster/higher/better than someone else, it is easy to forget that other people will still be there after the circus leaves town, will still go on living in dark, dangerous, dumps with inadequate facilities, whose city is still further in debt so that we could be entertained watching someone bouncing on a trampoline and Clare Balding shouting “It’s a silver in the kayak!”. Meanwhile, the Rio property developers are rubbing their hands in glee and the IOC members are looking forward to their next consignment of goodie bags. The Olympic ideal? I think not…..

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We start our review of the week’s clothing crapulence with singer Rita Ora, a WTF regular. Here she is out and about in New York City, wearing Jean Paul Gaultier.

There is no nice way of saying this. She looks as if her chest has got stuck in some railings. 

We next encounter young actress Peyton List at the Variety Power of Young Hollywood bash on Tuesday, wearing who knows what.

She is pretty. Her hairstyle is cute. But she is wearing a shower curtain as a skirt.

This is WTF regular actor Ansel Elgort at the same event wearing Alexander Wang.

What on earth is Alexander Wank up to? This is a random collection of rubbish made worse by its being worn together. Particular disapprobation is reserved for the ridiculous cropped khaki trousers, which are a war crime all on their own.

OK, what is this? I give you the GB Olympic Women Cycling Team, Katie Archibald, Joanna Rowsell-Shand, Elinor Barker and Laura Trott wearing their Stella McCartney-designed cycling gear. 

As friend Bel remarked on seeing this picture, “it’s got a thing for your thingy but girls haven’t got thingies”. Well, not those thingies anyway. WTF appreciates that your nether regions need padding out a bit when perched atop a narrow saddle for hours on end, but they look as if they are wearing the giant codpieces sported by Malcolm McDowell and his murderous mates in A Clockwork Orange.

Talking of thingies, meet actor Chris Pine at the premiere of Hell or High Water wearing a shirt by Bogliogli and some very snug-fitting trousers of unknown provenance.

There is no need to ask which side Chris dresses. But there is every need to ask why he is dressing like this. The shirt is fine but the high-waisted trousers are very Simon Cowell and, not to put too fine a point on it, he needs to take a size up. As demonstrated by the lie of those pockets.  And the lie of, er, other bits.

Here is über-ghastly trashfest Chloe Khan, a “reality star”, being booted out of Celebrity Big Brother, wearing Abyss by Abby. Which, whichever way you look at it, is apt.

Actually the dress on a normal person would be OK but Chloe is as far from a normal person as you can get without going extra-terrestrial. Those tits are perfectly ridiculous and the bodice is patently not up to the job, the veritable quart crammed with minimal success into a pint pot. Actually younger Readers will not know what I am talking about. A quart is two pints. Mind you, this is more like four pints.

Finally, this is designer and musician Dork Dozier (no, me neither), wearing who knows what…

Good grief. Dork by name, Dork by nature. What is that hat? It is sort of half-Puritan, half Mountie, all pillock. The rest of the outfit, as far as WTF can see, is a cross between a shepherd’s smock and a doctor’s coat, adorned with a multiplicity of sparkly bow ties and teamed with white shoes. Here is a WTF rule. Men should only wear white shoes if they are chefs or tennis players….