Hallo Readers,

On Tuesday, post-Trumptapegate, there was a shameful interview on Radio 4’s Today programme. Sneery presenter Justin Webb asked Everyday Sexism’s Laura Bates whether men were still allowed to say they fancied women. Bates tried to explain that this was not about locker room banter, this was about sexual assault. The idiot Webb persisted…”but leaving sexual assault aside…”. Bates was aghast. She tried again to explain the difference but without success. It was like trying to train a monkey in nuclear physics. One looks forward to Webb interviewing President Assad. “So, leaving your genocide in Aleppo aside, Mr President, what did you and President Putin have for dinner last night?”. WTF does not subscribe to BBC hating,  which she regards as the domain of the swivel – eyed loons of the rightwing and beyond. But honestly….get a bloody grip. There is even-handedness and there is stupidity. This went past stupidity and is currently docked at abject. 

Here’s the thing, Readers. Trump has long been recognised by anyone with two brain cells as a sexist bully with no respect for women. George W Bush will not support him and George H Bush is voting for Clinton. How bad do you have to be to piss off that gruesome twosome? Trump is on record bragging about his ability to barge into Miss Universe’s dressing rooms, catching them half or entirely naked, because he owned the show. He called his daughter Ivanka “a piece of ass” and said he would probably date her were they not related (there is therefore some benefit from being The Donald’s daughter, apart from a large allowance). He dismissed a searching interview by Fox’s star presenter as down to “blood coming our of her eyes, coming out of wherever”. He claimed that a woman made a sex tape, which was a lie, to cover up his racist, sexist abuse of her. He is not so much a silver-backed gorilla (© Nigel Farage) as an orange skunk. 

But the tape that emerged last week and the complaints of women now coming to light are a wholly different matter. This is not locker room talk unless the locker room is the one in Sing-Sing. Grabbing a woman by the pussy, grabbing an unknown woman and forcing your tongue down her throat, whether you have had a Tic-Tac or otherwise, putting your hands up a woman’s skirt or groping her breasts (as it is claimed he did), is not courtship, is not flirting.  It is sexual assault. Even to dismiss it as locker room banter is completely to miss the point. It goes beyond the lack of respect for women that the GOP was so willing to overlook, along with his racism, his bluster, his ignorance and his hair-trigger temper. It is the attitude of a someone who regards women as simply there to service his requirements. No wonder he regards Hillary with such disdain. She is a mere woman. And at old woman at that, albeit younger than him. It is the same mindset that led Silvio Berlusconi to dismiss Angela Merkel as “an unfuckable lardarse”. And how did Trump demonstrate his avowed respect for women during Sunday’s debate? By hectoring Clinton and talking over her.  By looming over her like a mangy lion with toothache. By trying to intimidate her. Way to go, Donald…. 

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We start our review of the week’s sartorial cesspit with “celebrity” Kelly Brook (what is she actually for?) wearing The Pretty Dress Company.

Kelly resembles a super-shiny condom. That getup is doing her no favours. Tight satin is never a good idea because it creases and this has more creases than Tommy Lee Jones in close-up, but is not even a smidgeon as interesting.

Next up, we have singer and Amwrica’s Next Top Model judge Rita Ora out and about in NYC, wearing something or other and Giuseppe Zanotti bootees.

In the bedroom, this would be sensational (apart from the bootees, which look like something worn by Robin Hood when calling to court Maid Marian). In the street, however, it does not pass muster because (i) it is a chemise, not even a nightie and (ii) it has transparent tits.

Be upstanding for Rod Stewart, out in London.

For reasons which WTF cannot fathom, Sir Rod, as we must now call him, is dressed in lavender with a tie that appears to have been circumcised.  There is also a perfectly ridiculous bright blue belt that has nothing to do with the price of fish. All this is very bad but is as nothing when compared to the demented pale blue pixie suede bootees. They can take away knighthoods. Rod should be on a final written warning.

We now encounter actress Carolina Miranda at the Latin American Music Awards.

If Sir Rod is a pixie, Carolina is a wood elf protecting herself against midges with protective trousers. Carolina! If they can’t nibble your legs, they will happily turn their attention to your cleavage and there is a lot to attract their attention.. 

Also at the Award ceremony was Mexican actress Carmen Aub, wearing a most remarkable ensemble.

This week was Yom Kippur and the traditional afternoon reading (round about the time when you start fantasising about a cup of tea and a piece of honey cake) is the story of Jonah. Having (finally) acceded to the Lord’s command to go to Ninevah and inform its citizens that they were doomed, Jonah was hugely aggrieved that the city and its inhabitants escaped extinction by everyone fasting, donning sackcloth and sitting in ashes. Carmen looks as if she is sitting in ashes. Only not enough of them….. WTF also deplores flesh-coloured mesh that is not the same colour as the wearer’s flesh, making her seem to have been bleached.

Here is actress Nicole Kidman,wearing Rodarte.

Let us not pass comment upon Nicole’s close resemblance to something in Mme. Tussaud’s storeroom. Let us instead dwell upon the fact that she has chosen to turn her chest into a giant heart, like the one beating within ET, but leopardskin.

As for the bottom of the skirt, it is like a bad embroidered tablecloth, the sort you buy in Gozo for your gran.

And finally footballer Wilfried Bony, wearing who knows what.

WTF loves footballers as they are the quintessential fashion victims. Like Wilfried here. £100,000 a week at his disposal  and this is what he buys?  Is he a kinky waiter? A sexy stonemason?  And what on earth does he have on his feet? They look something worn in a Truro drawing room in Poldark.