It is surprising that Donald Trump can sit down to discuss his new Cabinet at all. Even perched on one of those gilded chairs littering the gilded salon at Trump Towers, he must be in some discomfort, given that our own Nigel Farage is so far up his bottom, you can only see his brogues. But with less than two months to go until he assumes power, the President-Elect has to assemble his team. He knows as much about Washington as his left testicle and so there is an urgent and pressing need to gather together people with some understanding of the political process. He knows less about diplomacy than his right testicle and therefore he needs to court someone with the requisite expertise to be his Secretary of State. He promised his fellow Americans that “it’s time for America to bind the wounds of division”, and he is obliged to find advisers who will help him reassure all citizens that he will work for them. So how is he getting on?
The evidence to date is not encouraging. His newly appointed Chief Strategist, Steve Bannon, is the darling of the “alt-Right”, that coalition of nutjobs, anti-semites, white supremacists, bigots and neocons that helped sweep Trump to power. Mike Pence, the Vice President-Elect, thinks homosexuality is an illness that can be “cured”. Trump has been holding meetings and phone calls with world leaders without bothering to consult the State Department. And Jared Kushner, another property tycoon, is at his father-in-law’s side at every meeting, despite having no experience of government and no security clearance. Federal laws forbid a President to employ a member of his family but Kushner is apparently talking to lawyers about getting round this rule, perhaps by putting his (considerable) business interests into a blind trust and foregoing any salary. It might seem odd that the new régime, elected to chase out the elite, comprises millionaire businessmen who live in gilded penthouses whose opulent excesses would embarrass Louis XIV. It might not seem right that the role of consigliere has gone to the man whose main qualification for the role is that he is nobbing the President’s daughter and whose first act was to engineer the departure of Trump stalwart Governor Chris Christie. In a former life, Christie (himself in all sorts of political bother back in his home state of New Jersey) prosecuted Kushner’s father for fraud. (Kushner père went to prison for two years. One of his crimes was to set up his brother-in-law with a lady of the night and then use the photos to blackmail him. Nice.) But this is 2016, the year when truth ceased to matter, lies became facts and knowledge and experience became redundant.
Just as in post-Brexit Britain, many in the US see the election result as a democratic endorsement of their right to be racist. The Ku Klux Klan openly celebrated the result. Will we see David Duke taking tea at Trump Towers? Across the country, walls have been daubed with swastikas and slogans like “Make America White Again”. Synagogues and Mosques have been targeted. Women in hijabs have been threatened. Black students have been told to get back to Africa. Pamela Ramsay Taylor, a state official in Clay County, West Virginia, told her Facebook friends that “It will be so refreshing to have a classy beautiful dignified First Lady back in the White House. I’m tired of seeing a Ape (sic) in heels”. Beverly Whaling, Mayor of the town of Clay, posted in reply “Made my day, Pam”. She resigned soon afterwards. Ms Taylor and Ms Whaling have both denied racism and Ms Taylor has had the effrontery to threaten a libel suit against anyone suggesting otherwise. Good luck with that one, love. Meanwhile, whilst you are on indefinite suspension, perhaps you can spend the time reading up on grammar. And scrubbing the inside of your horrible, pursed, little mouth with a Brillo pad. But should it be any comfort to you, Ms Taylor, you are clearly not alone. And whatever he may say now, your President-Elect made this sort of chat acceptable.
You know what, Readers? We could all do with a bit of frivolity. Let us begin our sweep of the sartorial swamp at the London premiere of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them and actress Carmen Ejogo, wearing Elie Saab.
As WTF aficionado Jen sagely observed, the colour is bad; the cut is bad; the frothiness is bad; the translucence is bad. Sod it, the whole thing is bad.
Talking of bad, here is actress Marisa Tomei.
This is not just bad, this a whole package of bad. In these days of financial uncertainty, thrift is to be applauded, but going to a film premiere in a mishmash of denim offcuts is simply going too far.
To Culver City, California and singer Kelly Rowland at the Baby 2 Baby event, wearing Baja East.
One can see that there might be a market for this garment where, sadly, one limb has been subject to some unfortunate wasting disease whilst the other limb has a serious case of oedema. Kelly however seems to be in good health with limbs of equal size, which makes her wearing this nonsense a surprise.
To Sydney and the Australian GQ Men of the Year Awards. Winner of the Woman of the Year Award was rapper Iggy Azalea, wearing not nearly enough.
Iggy’s acceptance speech concluded thus…“I’ve won a lot of awards over the last few years but this one means the absolute most to me because I can finally say I have an award-winning vagina”. Er…OK. Iggy wins no award for her outfit because she looks ridiculous. Here are two WTF rules. First, tits, especially fake ones, are supposed to be worn underneath a top, not as a top. And second, necklaces are supposed to be worn over a top, not as a top. It should not really be that hard to grasp.
To the Academy of Motion Pictures Arts and Sciences 8th Governor Awards in LA and actor David Oyelowo, wearing Gucci.
A white suit is always tricky. A white textured suit worn with a black shirt and velvet embroidered pumps has gone past tricky and is presently in the long-stay car park for dismal. And that would be the case even without the shocking cut of the crotch, which has folds where folds should not be, like an elephant’s vagina.
To NYC and the L’Oréal Glamour Awards. First up, we have singer Gwen Stefani wearing Marchesa.
Gwen appears to have emerged from a burning building and is still smouldering. Dial 999!
And here is “plus-size” model Ashley Graham at the same event, wearing Galia Lahav.
Oh very dear. A high-necked babygro with a tit window worn under embellished lace trousers. This is not a size thing, Readers. This is a taste thing. Or an absence of taste thing. And how uncomfortable it must be to sit down – think of those indentations.
And finally we welcome back TOWIE’s Chloe Sims, wearing ASOS.
The dress costs £75. Frankly, Chloe has been overcharged. However, as anyone with working eyeballs will notice, that is not the major issue here. Either she needs to take her dress a size up or her tits a size down. And preferably both.
This week’s It’s Got To Go has been separately suggested by WTF aficionados Mark from the wilds of Essex and Jason from Cuffley, both of whom are (quite rightly) steamed up about the ubiquitous presence of e-cigarettes or “vapes”. Mark takes exception to people lurking outside buildings blowing huge clouds of smoke into his path like Old Faithful in Yellowstone Park.
Jason is more upset about people using vapes in their cars, causing the driver to disappear into a fug, an unnerving experience to behold, not to mention downright distracting. They are both of the view that vapes have simply Got to Go.
OK Readers, that’s your lot for this week. There was only one (albeit top) comment last week and you know how this throws WTF into stygian gloom, so please keep them coming because life is already challenging enough. Not to mention your top suggestions for It’s Got To Go. Let us meet again next Friday. Be good x