wtffashionshark

Hallo Readers,

One of the (few) advantages of the Brexit vote was the disappearance of various bigwigs who, until that point, each bestrode the political world like a Colossus. One minute they were there and then they were gone. David Cameron. Remember him? He is not even an MP anymore. He stepped away from constituency duties to spend more time with his bank account, causing an unnecessary by-election last week that nearly went tits-up for the Tories. George Osborne. Remember him? Sacked by Mrs May and now languishing on the Back Benches. And Michael Gove, that oleaginous slick of smarmy opportunism, plunged into the obscurity that many of us had long hoped would consume him. This week, alas, he resurfaced, touring the studios to recount how he went to bed on the fateful night of June 23rd, never expecting to win, only to be awoken with the news that, er, he had. His wife, the ghastly Sarah Vine, had already let that cat out of the bag in her column in the Daily Mail, when she claimed to have told him “you were only supposed to blow the bloody doors off”.

Of all the things that enrage WTF about the Brexit fiasco, which is just about everything, the worst is that a bag of political chancers and carpetbaggers jumped on the Brexit bandwagon, or should that be bus, spouting big about Sovereignty and the Single Market with either no real belief in what they were saying or no expectation of victory. The only person who believed this stuff and did think the vote would go his way was Nigel Farage and he was kept off the bus altogether. Not even allowed to sit at the back like Rosa Parkes. WTF despises the man but he at least had the demerit of consistency….

Now no-one has a clue what to do next. No-one had a game plan for what to do after winning the vote. No decent business ignores contingency planning. Hell, you even make a shopping list when you pop down to Waitrose to buy ingredients for your Sunday lunch. But we walked straight into LimboLand without a map. Saying “Brexit means Brexit” is like saying “Bullshit means Bullshit” – it is singularly uninformative. And. it appears, we are to be kept in the dark about the progress of negotiations because not only does “Brexit means Brexit” but “Silence means Golden”. So we are assured that it will be all right, although no-one knows either whether it will be or how that will be achieved, and even if they have a clue, which they haven’t, they are not going to tell us anything until the final deal. Which, although this was all about Sovereignty, will not be put to Parliament for a vote.

So WTF is feeling angry. Angry at Cameron for calling the Referendum in the first place. Angry at the lies on that bloody bus, promising £350m a week for the Health Service. Angry at Gove for dismissing expert opinion. Angry at the pound having hit, at one point, a 167-year low against the dollar. Angry at going through French immigration on 24 June, hours after the vote, to be asked by an incredulous official “Mais Madame, qu’est-ce vous avait fait?”. Angry at being embarrassed  to meet anyone European because they look at you as if you were running naked round Hyde Park waving your knickers in the air. Angry at the bigots who feel that they now have some sort of democratic right to abuse all foreigners living here, even those who are not European. And angry that there are years of this ahead. Thanks Dave. Thanks Michael.

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This week’s sartorial secretions are shockingly bad. Really. It is like a whole WTF Christmas Turkey on its own. You have been warned!!!!

We start with “star” of Ex On The Beach Laura-Alicia Summers, wearing not nearly enough. WTF does not even want to know who the other person is.

Ex On The Beach is more like Sex On The Beach where a variety of celebrities, and WTF uses the word loosely here, shag each other senseless and are confronted by their previous shagees who are flown in to cause maximum bovver.  There is not enough bleach in the world to cleanse your brain of the process. Anyway, in order to maintain the vulgarity, venality and vulvarity incumbent upon a participant in this drivel, Laura-Alicia is flashing a couple of distinctly improbably globular tits and her panties. All of which should be covered up.

Next we have actress Malin Akerman wearing a dress whose designer remains resolutely incognito. Good call.

WTF is more than familiar with the concept of double-slit genitalia curtains, but this is less a case of curtains and more a case of a fanny flap. And just in case there was insufficient flesh on display, there are also twin abdominal apertures, like a couple of horizontal toasters. 

Here is the wonderful actor Robert Downey Jnr  at the premiere of Doctor Strange, wearing Givenchy.

It seems that Robert has taken the name of the film rather too literally. This is a black suit with a khaki-patterned apron and matching trouser stripe and it is beyond foul.

To Paris and model Bella Hadid wearing Dior. Dior! Ye Gods….

Further proof, were proof needed, that Dior has gone right down the pan. Sigh. Next!

We do not welcome back recidivist designer, Jeremy Scott, wearing nonsense of his own design at the InStyle Awards.

The suit appears to have been inspired by the Teletubbies backdrop, and is rendered yet more offensive by the absence of any shirt or teeshirt. 

That however is as nothing compared to the horror of the neon Birkenstocks. Birkenstocks should never be worn with a suit. Or for that matter a baseball cap.  It is an actual criminal offence. Or else it should be.

To the Scottish Fashion Awards, where we meet actress Tuuli Shipster and designer Pam Hogg, both wearing Pam Hogg.

Pam has form for turning up at big events accompanied by someone in a spangly body-stocking with tit-twirls, a minge-muff and kinky boots, whilst she is herself wearing sunglasses and covered from head to foot in something shiny. Frankly, WTF would like to borrow the sunglasses, paint the lenses with black nail varnish and never have to experience another of Pam’s episodes of Mingehausen by Proxy.

Our final two shockers were at the Marco Marco fashion show. Marco Marco make men’s underwear. I am not sure if celebrity columnist Perez Hilton is wearing some but he looks bad.

There is humorous. And there is Halloween. This went past Halloween last Thursday and stopped at revolting. Henry V urged his soldiers to “Stiffen the sinews, conjure up the blood” but he would not have expected them actually to be displayed as clothing. 

Finally, we have rapper Brooke Candy. This one is quite offensive actually (she says happily). YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!!!!!

AND HERE IS ANOTHER WARNING TO GO WITH THE FIRST WARNING!!!!!!.

As WTF aficionado Sian would say, that’s not even clothes. That’s not even underclothes. It is merely a collection of appliqués with a minge mask that looks more like a leaky panty-pad. It is a pity that the boots could not extend up to, or past, the racy waist-slogan. WTF would also like to know why Brooke has a pair of window-pulls on her head.