Did anyone actually think that an orange numbskull with the attention span of a gnat, who has been winging it since the day of his inauguration, and whose idea of diplomacy consists of removing a speck of dandruff from the President of France’s lapel whilst loudly announcing what he is doing to the world’s press, would manage to denuclearise North Korea? Why? There was as much chance of Spanky persuading Kim Jong Un to give up his nuclear weapons as there was of Kim persuading Spanky to confess to collusion with the Russians. It was never going to happen.
Yesterday Spanky called it off. It was Much Ado about Nothing without the happy ending. Benedick is played by Spanky and Beatrice by Kim. (Remember that in Shakespeare’s day, all the roles used to be played by men). At the beginning of the play, Beatrice and Benedick have a long standing antipathy. Beatrice has called Benedick a ‘dotard’. Benedick has referred to Beatrice as ‘little rocket person’ . “Courtesy itself must turn to disdain if you come in her presence.” But like many dramatic antipathies, this one bristles with sexual tension. Finally, they are brought together by the sleight of hand of their friends Don Pedro (President Moon Jae-In) and Hero (Mike Pompeo). Amazed, Beatrice and Benedick find themselves falling in love and resolve to meet on 12 June to consummate their relationship. Sadly, it is not to be. Benedick gets cocky and mints coins to mark the date, boasting how Beatrice has already succumbed to his charms. Don John, (John Bolton) goes on every Sunday news show saying that Beatrice has agreed to relinquish her rockets, and comparing her to Benedick’s former conquest Libya, who wound up used and humiliated. Beatrice gets the dead raving needle and insults Benedick’s friend Claudio, (Mike Pence), calling him “stupid” because he openly agreed with what Don John said. Benedick says he is enraged although in truth he suspects he is about to get dumped, and gets his blow in first by sending Beatrice a letter of sheer poetry. “Dear Beatrice, I saw on Fox News that you have been bad mouthing my mate, which will not play well with my 30%. So it’s over. I can go back to what I love best, golf and spreading lies on Twitter. It could have been so good between us, but you blew it bigly. I know you think you have your weapons, but remember, my button is much, much, bigger than your button. So that’s it. If you change your mind and want to play nice, you can always write or call me.” The only upside of the whole sorry debacle is that the Nobel Peace Prize, for which Spanky was nominated by eighteen sycophantic Republicans, is further away than Pyongyang on foot from Washington DC. And we all know that Spanky cannot go more than 100 yards without a golf cart…
To the Royal Wedding, which was rather splendid. WTF, watching on her laptop from Rome, came to sneer but turned into a blithering idiot, yelling “she’s in mint green!” and “Here comes Meghan!!!” (Yes, the dress didn’t fit, anywhere, which was a shame, seeing as it cost the same as a couple of houses in Windsor High Street, but she still looked gorgeous). The music was great and WTF even quite liked the Bishop, although he went on so long, it was nearly time for the Cup Final. Here is a tip, your Grace – do not say “I must wrap it up, we need to get y’all married” and then carry on for another ten minutes. It is irksome. Leave them wanting more…
And now let us turn our attention to the worst dressed guests, starting with fitness trainer and wannabe celebritee, Chloe Madeley, wearing Reiss, seen here with her fiancé, England rugby player, James Haskell.
James, an old mate of the groom, looks fine, but the same cannot be said of his fiancée. This is what WTF aficonado Thane Prince describes as #titgate. Even if you have tip-top titties, you do not flash them, sans bra, in a church, let alone in St George’s Chapel. And here is a WTF rule – a fascinator is not a hat, not even at all. It is a saucer with feathers.
Here is superstar billionaire Oprah Winfrey wearing Stella McCartney.
To be fair to Oprah, this dress was run up at the last minute, after she realised that her preferred outfit was inappropriate and had to beg Stella to conjure up something overnight. Even so, it is far too tight over the chest, making her look like an over-stuffed armchair, whilst the skirt resembles a bordello lampshade.
Benjamin Franklin said there were only two things certain in life: death and taxes. WTF would add a third: that the Hinge and Bracket of the Royal Family, Princesses Eugenie and Beatrice, will always feature in this blog on any big occasion. Here is Eugenie, wearing Gainsbourg.
Come fly with me, 1970’s style.
And Beatrice, wearing Roksanda.
Like an outbreak of frothy teal pustules….
And here is their aunt, Princess Anne, wearing who knows what?
HRH has dedicated her life to dressing as badly as possible and has been faithful to that mission for the last fifty years. Many commentators likened this ensemble to Hugh Hefner’s dressing gown, but WTF takes the view that Anne is channeling Alexandr the meerkat. Simples!
To New York and singer Solange Knowles, at the Parsons Event, wearing Shanel (sic) and Y/Project.
Oh the irony! Solange was being honoured for her commitment to fashion, but frankly, she looks as if she should just be committed. Insofar as WTF is able to deconstruct this outfit, the top seems to consist of a tit ribbon and the remains of a shirt after the rest has been ripped up for dusters. The Transformer trousers, by Y/Project, have transformed the trousers into a nappy with leg covers and groin gaps. On the plus side, the sandals are excellent.
Next we go to the Billboard Music Awards, always a rich source of sartorial stupidity, starting with a rapper called Lil’Pump, né Gazzy Garcia.
Is that a tattoo on his chin or some sort of facial growth? This whole look is simultaneously silly and scrofulous, he has forgotten his teeshirt and those jeans are a health hazard. But if you are going for silly and scrofulous, you should avoid pimping it up with a $350 Gucci belt.
Singer Julia Michaels, wearing Morphew.
WTF is sorry to observe that this dress can best be described as trailer trash bride.
Singer Christina Aguilera, wearing 16Arlington.
The last time WTF saw this much pinstripe, it was at the underwriters’ annual general meeting at Lloyds of London. Just terribly, terribly, terrible.
Makeup guru Patrick Starr, wearing who even knows what this is…..
Blooming heck…..If a mutant grasshopper went to a fancy dress party dressed as Carmen Miranda, this is what it would look like.
Sandra is wearing an encrusted body stocking with a minge mask. Cheryl is wearing a plastic flasher mac. They should both have stayed at home.
Erika needs to take a size up, and there is more train than dress. Frankie has a badger’s bum haircut and looks like a Popeye in a tux at a gay wedding. As for the footwear, Neil Armstrong wore those boots when he stepped onto the moon.
This week’s It’s Got To Go comes from WTF aficionados Leslie and Nick from Lisson Grove, who are enraged, with every justification, by food being consumed in cinemas. They write, ‘Today’s audiences appear not to be able to sit quietly for two hours without chomping constantly from a selection of smelly, noisy, food – burgers, cheesy nachos (with that vile sauce), popcorn (which was hoovered up from the floor after the last audience left!), fizzy drinks, served in oil drum sized containers etc. The ticket price of a decent film in a comfy chair is almost topping £25 and for that price you feel that you are surrounded by a herd of manatees eating their body weight in sea lettuce. No one will starve in the time it takes to watch a film’. Agreed. It’s Got to Go.
OK Readers, that’s your lot for this week. Keep sending in your top comments and your excellent suggestions for It’s Got To Go. Let us meet again next Friday. Be good x