Who knew politics would be this tricky? President Maydogan certainly didn’t. She seemed to think that we would leave the EU with everyone lined up to wave us off like in The Sound of Music where the kiddies sang at Captain von Trapp’s posh party at his house on the lake in Salzburg. “So long, farewell, auf wiedersehen, goodnight……” Everyone would be all smiles over the champagne and canapés, swapping email addresses and trade deals. “You will come to visit, won’t you Jean-Claude? Don’t be a stranger!” “I vill, Theresa. And please can ve have fifty thousand Range Rovers by next Thursday, ve are running low”. Sadly, it is not quite turning out like that. Those dastardly foreigners are playing hardball. You have Jean-Claude Juncker and Michel Barnier round to dinner at No 10 and they bring bile instead of bonbons. They sit round your table feasting on beef in red wine (outside caterers, apparently) and drinking your claret whilst listening to David Davis, the Brexit secretary, telling them the same story three times about how he once sued the UK Government. And how do they thank you? They tell you to your face that you do not understand what you are doing and that “the EU is not a golf club” where you can just cancel your subscriptions. They expect to be paid the full whack on the divorce settlement and they are keeping the apostle spoons or there will be no trade deal. And you can forget about the secret negotiations on the settlement you were hoping for. As they leave, rather than waxing lyrical over the magnificent cuisine, they tell you that they are “ten 10 times more sceptical” than when they arrived.
And worse was yet to come. The next day, they slag you off to their mate Angela, saying that you are living in another galaxy and are delusional. Angela then suggests in public that you could not find your arse with both hands and a map. And then they leak the whole dinner conversation to a German newspaper which has the temerity to print it in German, so that you have to translate it into English using Google and we all know how irritating that is. That is the last time you serve them boeuf bourguignon. Next time they can eat jellied eels. Bastards.
Of course this is being explained to us as “negotiations”. But if you constantly attack your negotiating partners in public like a cut-price Boudicca and tell them point blank over dinner that you are not paying a penny piece and you want negotiations kept confidential and certain things sewn up in months, you expose yourself to the risk that they will view the UK Government as out of its depth, under-prepared and winging it. David Davis in particular, seems unable to grasp that we are bound by contractual and legal commitments. You do not just get up and walk away, like rising from your chair after a restaurant meal. May’s complaint that the EU is interfering with the General Election is just bonkers. And in the meantime the public, promised that Europe needed us more than we needed them, is up in arms at its refusal to let us have the same benefits outside as inside, only without paying for them. The fact is, as any schoolkid would tell you, that you have to be in it to win it. Who knew politics would be this tricky? Well, most of us actually.
Today is WTF’s Fifth Birthday and we are celebrating it at the Annual Met Gala in New York. The theme was a celebration of Comme des Garçons designer Rei Kawakubo and almost everyone looked ludicrous. Let us start with singer Pharrell Williams and his wife Helen Lasichanh.
Pharrell was Co-Chair of the event but he did not give his outfit much thought. Writing the word Rei on your kneecap in biro is hardly making an effort. Helen is wearing Comme des Garçons and looks like Po from the teletubbies. Eh Oh.
Next up we have actress Hailee Steinfeld, wearing Vera Wang.
This is a straitjacket with a peplum. If you were not certifiable before you put it on, you would be after you had so this is a self-fulfilling prophecy. The glistening turd on her head is a metaphor for the whole look.
This is rapper Wiz Khalifa, wearing Thom Browne.
Wiz seems to have high stepped out of the chorus line in of 42nd Street where the wardrobe mistress washed his costume at too high a temperature. The waistcoat would have to take a bus to get to the trousers and the hems would need to hitchhike to the ankles, only to find those ridiculous boots when they arrived.
And here is Beyonce’s sister, singer Solange (or, as WTF likes to call her, Solangé), also wearing Thom Browne.
There is nothing wrong with wearing a padded coat over your outfit in inclement weather. WTF has several of them, all different levels of warmth, including a white one that makes her look like a polar bear with weight issues. But Solangé is wearing this padded coat as an outfit, which comes with its own trailing corrugated groundsheet.
This is model Chrissy Teigen, wearing Marchesa.
Chrissy chose to come dressed as a series of snow flakes melting into a dirty puddle. Marchesa should have saved this one up for the Bergdorf Goodman windows come Christmastime.
Another model, Kendall Jenner, wearing La Perla Couture (i.e. undies).
WTF does not even know what this is supposed to be but she does know that there is not enough of it. Particularly at the back. Not that there is one.
Maybe Kendall wants to be a perambulating wank fantasy but WTF wishes that she would go and perambulate somewhere else. Like Siberia.
Meet celebrity son Jaden Smith (his parents are Will and Jada), wearing Louis Vuitton.
There are three reasons to dislike this. First, the stupid trousers. Second, the fact that he shaved off his dreadlocks and brought them to the party as a fashion accessory. And third, the hideous mouth grill.
And of course there was singer Rihanna, wearing Comme des Garçons.
Rihanna is dressed as a giant mutant dahlia, like something out of one of those science fiction movies when someone has overdone it with the chemical crop spraying. It is certainly colourful but it gives you one hell of a headache. WTF does however confess to a sneaking admiration for the laced sandals and for Rihanna’s general élan.
Of course there was Madonna, wearing Moschino.
WTF aficionado Alison sagely observed that Madge is masquerading as a veteran of the Mosul campaign, complete with tits more squashed than the Victoria Line at 8 am, leather gloves, a camouflage netting boa and a khaki water-bottle/handbag. And she was another one with a mouth grill. What is going on here?
And finally we have another Co-Chair of the event, singer Katy Perry wearing Maison Margiela.
This is, to use WTF’s new favourite expression, a load of my arse, a blood-spattered bridal gown with an absolutely revolting minge donut like a blood-soaked merkin. And then there was the veil, a sort of Salvador Dali insanity with wing mirrors. Wing mirrors! At least you can see who is pissing themselves with laughter behind you.
And this is what she wore at the after party, this time by Ulanya Sergeenko.
Katy is clearly having a Major Minge Crisis. Call an ambulance!! Or ask Hailee to lend her the straitjacket.
This week’s It’s Got to Go comes from WTF aficionado Andrew Purcell, leaver of wonderful comments on the blog (read them – they’re brilliant). Andrew has brought these Barracuda jeans to WTF’s attention. They sell at Nordstrom for $425 and are daubed with fake mud.
Now WTF likes a laugh as much as the next person but this is just not funny. $425 for fake mud? If you really want to look like a leftover from Woodstock, buy a pair of jeans from Gap and roll around in some real mud. If it isn’t muddy, you will still have loads of cash left over with which to buy a watering can and make your own mud in the back garden or local park.
OK Readers, that’s your lot for this week. There were some fine comments last week which kept WTF from worrying. Take your inspiration from Andrew Purcell and keep them coming. Not to mention your suggestions for It’s Got To Go. Let us meet again next Friday. Be good x