WTF is no fan of the House of Lords, an unelected ragbag of former politicians, academics, lawyers, arselickers, moneybags, ageing luvvies and people whose great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandmother had it off with Charles 11. The whole thing is undemocratic, even though many of them do an excellent job. On a documentary aired this week on BBC 2, one peer described it as “the best daycare centre for the elderly in London”. Only usually you pay for care. In the House of Lords, they pay you, £300 a day whether you are there for ten minutes or ten hours. There is also an excellent selection of bars and restaurants at very competitive prices, all paid for by Tom and Tilly Tosser, the taxpayers.
Be that howsoever as that may be, the House of Lords is part of Parliament and our Parliamentary system depends upon checks and balances. The Lords cannot stop a bill becoming law but they can delay it if they think the Government needs to reconsider it. Unlike the Commons, the peers care less about party dictates because their peerages are irrevocable and they are not going anywhere. Once you’re in, you’re in. Like the Garrick, only with women members.
Do you remember the Brexit campaign and all that stuff about Parliament being sovereign? Well, the House of Lords is part of that sovereign Parliament and the peers were doing their job when they blocked the Brexit bill by insisting that the Government protect the EU nationals already living here and do not use them as a pawn in negotiations. People who have lived here for years, who have worked here, trained here, paid taxes here, married Britons, had British children, have been living in fear and trepidation since 23 June last year. How is this in any way the mark of a civilised nation? 358 peers decided that it was not and so the Brexit bill has to go back to the House of Commons for further consideration, despite Lord Tebbit enquiring “Why is everybody here today so excited about an amendment which looks after the foreigners and not the British?”. It’s called humanity, M’Lord. You should try it sometime.
Cue the traditional howls of outrage. The Daily Mail and the Daily Express went bonkers. Their readers (insofar as the Express has any readers) went completely bonkers. The Lords are traitors betraying the nation (er, they’re not). The Lords had no right to interfere, they thundered (er, they do). That is not their role (er, it is). They are unelected (well, that’s true). And then the old chestnut – the People Have Voted For Brexit! Can we please get this straight? The People did vote for Brexit by 52%-48%. But that is all they voted for. They did not vote on the timetable. They did not vote on the terms. They did not vote on the fate of those EU nationals living here or, for that matter, of those British nationals living there. And so WTF wishes that people who clearly have no grasp of the constitution, no grasp of the law (as witnessed by the preposterous reaction to the Court’s adjudication on the proper mechanism by which Brexit should be effected), who invoke the Sovereignty of Parliament only when it suits them just as they invoke the supremacy of the Courts only when it suits them, should please, please, please just stop shouting the odds and go and read a book about how our system works.
Talking of institutions, we turn to our review of the Oscars fashion outrages, encompassing both the Red Carpet and the after-parties. Ryan Gosling was lucky to escape inclusion for his ridiculous bar mitzvah boy shirt, but let us start instead with Diva-de-luxe Mariah Carey, wearing Philipp Plein.
Ouch! It is not just the impending nip-slip. It is the dress (which is lovely) which is slicing her boobs in half, like couture plastic surgery. Look!!!!!!!!
Good grief. Is this some form of pervy Opus Dei? Has her boob been punctured like air oozing from a balloon? Either way, it is horrible to behold.
Singer Gabrielle Union, wearing Jean Paul Gaultier Couture.
She’s stunning. But this is another example of JPG’s tedious half crap, half different crap schtick. This one is half bikini and wrap, half evening gown, 100% seriously stupid.
Actor Alan Cumming, without whom no Awards ceremony blog would be complete.
Alan omits no opportunity to flash his pasty Celtic calves. WTF is a great fan of cropped trousers but these are not so much cropped as truncated, and there is also great disapprobation for the Nehru coat-smock-and-boots combo. As for the hair, it is not so much tousled as tragic.
Actress Dakota Johnson, wearing Gucci.
Obviously keen to get away from her raunchy fuck-me-sideways Fifty Shades of Filth character, Dakota turned up in Queen Victoria’s nightgown worn, inexplicably, with a matching fanny fan. And it’s creased. And her hair looks lank. Sack the stylist, stat!
Musician Mica Levi (aka Micachu).
This diarrhoea-coloured thing is quite possibly the worst suit WTF has ever seen. It’s the sort of getup you got as a demob suit in 1945 when everything else had run out and this was the only one left. Also those boots! This was the Oscars Red Carpet, not the Grand Canyon.
Actress Diane Kruger, wearing Minge Maestro Alexandre Vauthier.
You know those Greek myths where maidens are turned into laurel trees and gods transform themselves into bulls? Well, in this version a goddess has transformed herself into a silken bed sheet with waterfall snatch scarf, perhaps to escape from Vauthier and other designers who think women should parade about like this.
Actor Jared Leto (of course) wearing Gucci (of course).
He is wearing a dressing gown and a woolly hat. At a party. And white socks, which are a no-no anywhere, except at the gym or if you’re Michael Jackson. And trousers which have fallen out with his ankles. Ridiculous. Even for him.
Actress Janelle Monae, wearing Elie Saab.
It’s so BIG. How did she get through the door? She must have come in sideways. And it’s so TITSY…..
It is beautifully made, yes, but it is far too Marie Antoinette and her chest is under attack from all manner of little feathered creatures having a nibble.
And of course there were the minge-flashers. There always are, those who otherwise would languish in obscurity. Like model Tanya Mityushina, wearing something even more titsy by Rani Zakhem.
Tits. Bellybutton. Minge Moment. Just go away.
And socialite Lady Victoria Hervey, wearing Julia Clancey.
This is a lace crotch curtain worn, inexplicably, with white panties.
Where is Robespierre when you need him?
And finally actress Blanca Blanco, in a dress of her own design. Careful now….
Blanca flashed her side-vag at the camera and then did that thing where you pretend that you had absolutely no idea it would happen. Like there was any other feasible outcome with a hip-high slit. Nice try, love.
This week’s It’s Got To Go is nominated by Jen from Fulham who is unimpressed with Martha Luis and Brian Cullinan, the PWC partners who charged the Academy Awards loads of money to supervise the voting process and the ceremony. Why do they even need accountants? You could count the votes on your kitchen table and perhaps a minion more used to be around movie stars would have been less star-struck than Cullinan, who was so busy perving up over Emma Stone that he handed Warren Beatty the wrong envelope to open for Best Movie. As that was the last award of the night, it was hardly complicated. Luis seems less culpable but has been blamed for allowing three minutes and several speeches to elapse before the producers of La La Land were forced to hand over the statuette to its rightful owners. I mean, it isn’t rocket science, is it? On the other hand, today’s news that they now have to have bodyguards after death threats on Twitter shows what a nasty society we have become.
OK Readers, that’s your lot for this week. Please keep commenting and suggesting nominations for It’s Got to Go. WTF is troubled, what with Trump and Brexit and everything and she needs your support. Let us meet again next Friday. Be good x