A journalist and political activist went into the Saudi consulate in Istanbul a fortnight ago, and he never came out. Or if he did, he came out in an assortment of carrier bags. Jamal Khashoggi died at the hands of a posse of thugs who flew into the city on the same day as his appointment and who flew out again that night. One of them was a close associate of the Saudi Crown Prince. Another was a forensic expert, which explains the bone saw he had in his luggage, and which he seems to have put to use on the unfortunate victim. At first the Saudis maintained that Khashoggi left the consulate in one piece, although there is no CCTV or other evidence to support this. It then emerged that the Turks have a recording of his dismemberment, at which point the Saudis claimed that this was an interrogation ‘that went wrong’. ‘Went wrong’! It goes wrong when you put too much flour in your Victoria sponge mix. It goes wrong when you forget your mobile and cannot pay by phone to park your car. When fifteen thugs re-enact Reservoir Dogs meet Laurel and Hardy with a bone saw on diplomatic premises, that is cold blooded murder. Oh, and it now seems that the murder was unsanctioned and by rogue killers. Right….
Khashoggi was a columnist for The Washington Post and had the right to reside in America. But the President of the US was blissfully unconcerned about Khashoggi’s disappearance. When even he perceived that unconcern would no longer cut it, he declared that he has spoken to the Saudis and they had (surprise, surprise) denied it. When no-one bought the denial, he despatched Mr Potato Head, Mike Pompeo, over to Riyadh to get more denials. We are now told that the Saudis are investigating and that they are ‘talented people’ who will get to the bottom of it, and anyway, Khashoggi was not a US citizen, and anyway the Saudis have agreed to buy billions of dollars of arms, the better to bomb Yemen with, and let us not be too hasty in judging them. Only yesterday they dropped $100 million into the US bank account to combat Iran.
Well, actually, Mr President, let us judge. There was a time when the US claimed (not always accurately) to be the champion of democracy and freedom. Now, Trump does nor even pretend to exert moral leadership. Who cares if a writer for one of his country’s major newspapers was chopped up by a major ally? Who cares if the Saudis are pounding Yemen into the ground, as long as they do it with American weaponry, and stay in Trump hotels, and buy Trump apartments? Answer – people who believe in decency. People who believe in the freedom of the press. People who believe that money is not the god of all things. So let us judge. Let us condemn. Let us make a fuss. Because if we roll over, if we allow the Saudis to get away with this, it is just one more step backwards. Too many more and we will topple over into the abyss.
We start our review of the week’s clothing cloaca at the Royal Wedding of Princess Eugenie and some bloke who flogs tequila, with the mother of the bridge, Sarah Ferguson, the Duchess of York, wearing a dress by Windsor couturier Emma Louise, and a Jess Collet hat.
It was a windy day in Windsor last Friday and the ill-advised addition of the train to Sarah’s frock put her in grave danger of being blown away. If only. WTF is compelled to observe that the Duchess needed to take a size up and the winged hat is more Hermes delivery than Hermès.
One of the guests was model Cara Delevigne,wearing Emporio Armani.
For reasons WTF cannot begin to explain, Cara came dressed as Fred Astaire. Was she the Cabaret?
This is singer and actress Lady Gaga, wearing Marc Jacobs.
Beanpole footballer Peter crouch, who is 6 feet 7 inches tall, tweeted that he loved Lady G’s new movie A Star is Born so much that he lent her one of his suits….WTF and all her friends and relations could get into that suit and still leave room for Her Ladyship. Preposterous.
Actress Sarah Paulson at the Elle Women in Hollywood event, wearing Calvin Klein.
WTF loves Sarah but this is crazy and then crazier still. It is as if Banksy did an etching on a grassy knoll and then hung some fringing over it. As for the shoes, they still seem to be in their boxes.
Also in attendance was singer Jennifer Lopez, wearing Maticevski.
As Rousseau almost remarked, woman is born free but everywhere in ribbons….
Next, we have country artiste Maren Morris wearing Raisa and Vanessa.
Why does it take two people to design something last seen on Miss Piggy? And her shoes are so high that the poor love is forced to stand with her knees bent at an angle of 45 degrees, like someone doing squats in the gym.
Singer Katie Perry wearing Galia Lahav and shoes of her own design.
There is bad. And there is this.
Barbie with cameltoe, underboob and a train….. Katie should also fire her makeup artiste with immediate effect. And lose the hair bow, which makes her look like a pampered pooch.
Finally, here is ghastly celebritee Lauren Goodger, wearing PrettyLittleThing. Oh the irony…. Careful with this one. It is very, very, bad.
Having bored us all senseless with her weight gain/weight loss/weight gain saga, and having filled her lips, chest, and who who knows which other bodily parts, with more plastic than is killing fish in the oceans, Lauren has gone for the ultimate ‘look-at-me’ trick with a minge muffler. Surely it should be an offence to walk about like this? And if it is not, then it should be.
This week’s It’s Got to Go comes (separately) from WTF Aficionados Sarah from Edinburgh, Jason from Cuffley and Michael from Sydney, all of whom brought this disgusting Fendi scarf to WTF’s attention.
WARNING – THIS COULD NOT BE ANY MORE REVOLTING.!!!!!
AND HERE IS A WARNING TO GO WITH THE FIRST WARNING!!!!!
This is probably one of the worst things WTF has ever seen. It is a full-blown minge. When Sarah’s tweet arrived and WTF clicked on the link (from The Guardian, no less) she fell into a near-hysterical state, started squawking and kept on squawking, like a macaw with anxiety issues. And this affront costs £750!!!!! WTF will be sending Fendi her medical bills because she has yet to recover from the trauma. It Has SO Got to Go.
OK Readers, that’s your lot for this week. Last week you sent in some excellent comments and some tip-top suggestions for It’s Got To Go and WTF was as happy as happy can be. Keep them coming, Let us meet again next Friday. Be good.
WTF Who Cares Special?
WTF makes no apologies in returning to the subject of the appointment, or possible non-appointment, of Brett Kavanaugh as the ninth member of the Supreme Court. Yes it is about American politics and the vileness that is America’s 45th President, but that is not the real story. It is about how, in the end, that women are still fighting to be heard, how the subject of sexual assault is still so misunderstood. That is why so many people on both sides of the Atlantic are upset about the way that Christine Blasey Ford and the other accusers have been treated and why that distress is so visceral. And that is why the sight of two women victims of sexual assault shouting at a cowering, abject, Senator Jeff Flake in an elevator at the Capitol last Friday was so moving. Because it is, ultimately, a story about all of us, not just three women who encountered Kavanaugh as a teenager three decades ago.
The Republican members of the Senate Judiciary Committee listened to Ford tell her story and claimed to find her evidence ‘compelling’. But not compelling enough to believe her when she said that she was 100% sure that it was Kavanaugh who attacked her whilst laughing loudly with his watching friend. They concluded that something happened to her, but it was not him it happened with. She was ‘mixed-up’. They could not possibly destroy a man’s life because of this uncorroborated allegation. The fact that they did not subpoena the other person in the room and question him meant that there could be no corroboration. It is like killing your parents and then pleading for pity because you are an orphan. Don’t call the witness to see how credible he might or might not be. Just blame a woman for being ‘confused’, and let this man get a life-time appointment because he worked so hard for it and he deserves it. Not to mention the distress caused to his lovely kids and his lovely wife. The family dog is probably off his food as well. Oh, and Kavanaugh is going to vote to set abortion and gay rights and native American rights back 50 years. Then there was the rigged FBI “investigation”. Despite the evidence that Kavanaugh was a nasty drunk, the White House instructed them not to ask college friends about his drinking. Because if they did, they might find evidence that he had lied when he said he didn’t drink to excess and even Trump conceded that proof of perjury would scupper the appointment. They could talk to someone who alleged Kavanaugh had flashed at her, but not to her twenty friends and colleagues who begged to be interviewed. They were told to wrap it all up within seven days. They did it in five, and one hundred senators have been given twenty-four hours to read the one copy of their report before voting.
Who cares if women are protesting outside? Who cares if 1,200 law professors from the top law schools have raised doubts about his character and temperament? Who cares if he ranted and raved like a lunatic at the Hearing and blamed the Democrats for a witch hunt against him? (He now says he was speaking as a dad, father and son. Er, no – he was an interviewee). Who cares if he perjured himself? Who cares if professionals know that it can take years for people to admit sexual abuse? Who cares if there is evidence that many people don’t remember all the details of the attack, even though they damn well know who attacked them? Who cares if this ‘very fine woman’ (© Donald J. Trump) had this terrible experience – I mean, she’s OK, right? She went on to be a professor! She’s married! She’s being manipulated. So she is simultaneously credible and unreliable, a very fine woman and a stooge. Hey, we listened right? We got a report, right? And now we can get on with doing what we were always going to do in the first place. And this afternoon, UK time, that is probably exactly what they are going to do. Shame on the Republicans. Shame on any Democrats who put their re-election prospects in conservative states against principle (but credit to Senator Heidi Heitkamp who did not). The whole thing is shameful and it leaves women feeling disrespected and ignored. And that is a very painful feeling.
We start our review of the week’s clothing crapulence with the Boudicca de nos jours, Theresa May, in Birmingham wearing Paule Ka.
Admittedly the Tory Party is in a parlous state, but was it really necessary for Mrs Maybe to dress like a surgeon in the operating theatre?
‘Nurse! Pass me the scalpel, stat! I need to remove Mr Johnson’s goolies. Don’t bother with the anaesthetic…..’
This is actress Michelle Williams in LA at the premiere of her new movie, Venom, wearing Louis Vuitton. It’s got Tom Hardy in it. Just saying….
The shirt is great, but the combination with the cropped blond hair, the shorts and the bootees resembling black socks, is very Hitler Youth. You half expect her to start belting out Tomorrow Belongs To Me from Cabaret.
Talking of black socks, here is actor Robert Pattinson in New York, wearing Dior Homme.
If Dennis the Menace went to a fancy dress party as an Amish, this is what he would look like. The socks!!!! And there is more. From the front, those shoes looks like buffed-up brogues. But they are ponced-up, crocodile sneakers.
London calling – meet actress Zawe Ashton at the premiere of ‘A Star is Born’ wearing Isa Arfen.
She looks like a collapsed marquee in yoga pants and heels.
Here we are in Las Vegas with former baseball superstar Alex Rodriguez and his inamorata, Jennifer Lopez, both wearing Tom Ford.
Not even a tall, manly man like ARod can get away with looking like a giant stick of candy floss. JLo is wearing a tinfoil condom and a ridiculous coat like an extra from The Jungle Book. More ridiculous still, it costs £6,800. And it has sold out.
To Paris Fashion Week, where we encounter actress Sophie Turner wearing Jonathan Simkhai and her fiancé, actor and singer Joe Jonas, wearing Ermenegildo Zegna. They are out for lunch – literally.
These two are like a pair of perambulating body parts. She is showing more chest than diners expect to see over a lunchtime plate of paté de foie gras and a glass of Sauternes, while his trousers, mismatched with his jacket, have succumbed to the current malaise affecting gentlemen’s leg wear, to whit, elephant vagina syndrome. And they have gone matchy-matchy, although not to each other. She has the white bag and shoes combo last seen in 1985 and he has matched his laces to his trewsies. Both their stylists need a slap, a P45 and another slap.
Still in Paris, here is rapper Cardi B wearing Mugler.
Wossis? She has a pair of pomegranates stuck to her chest under a jacket seemingly designed for a larger person. Her translucent shaper shorts feature a ribbon in what appears to be an unnecessary position, and some artfully-frayed threads like the last remnants of an exploded blackbird.
This week’s It’s Got to Go comes from WTF Aficionados Gerry and John from Regent’s Park, Lucy from Islington, and Ayesha from Stepney, all of whom are unhappy about Arsenal manager’s Unai Emery‘s hair.
No, sorry. The lads are playing better, although the defence is still pants, but his hair is greasy. And this isn’t a Spanish thing, this is a greasy thing. And It (but not him) Has Got to Go.
OK Readers, that’s your lot for this week. You sent in some excellent comments and some tip-top suggestions for It’s Got To Go. Keep WTF smiling by doing the same with knobs on this week. Let us meet again next Friday. Be good x
WTF Sleazy Special
So this is where we are. Either US Supreme Court nominee Brett Kavanaugh is a good, God-fearing, man who is being persecuted by all or any of the Democrats, Bill and/or Hillary Clinton, lefties, the Fake News and a variety of crazy, mixed up, middle-aged women. Or he is a liar, a gambler, a sleaze-bag, a former drunk and a man who, 30-odd years ago, pinned one girl down on a bed, tried to rip off her clothes and put his hand over her mouth to stop her screaming, all the time laughing uproariously with his best mate. So who is going to decide, and on what basis are they going to decide, which is the real Brett Kavanaugh?
No-one really believed that yesterday’s Judicial Hearing, which heard evidence from the principal accuser, Christine Blasey Ford, and from Kavanaugh, but no witnesses, including the man who allegedly witnessed the assault on her as he was in the room, would affect whether Kavanaugh would be confirmed. Before it began, Senator Hatch, a man so old and decrepit that he is walking around merely to save himself funeral expenses, pronounced that Ford was ‘confused’. Senator Graham, who has gone from Trump critic to Trump butt-plug in a matter of months, declared that he was not going to ruin a man’s life based on something that happened three decades ago. And Trump described the whole thing as a ‘Democratic con-job‘. And so the Republican majority got in a nice, mumsy, lady prosecutor to quiz Ford, who gave plausible, clear, calm, evidence. Kavanaugh came out fighting in the way that Russell Crowe came out fighting in Gladiator. He shouted. He cried. It was all a conspiracy. He dodged questions, talked over the questioners, snarlingly asked them questions and complained that his life was ruined. He told a nauseating story about his little daughter telling her sister that they should pray for the lady who was saying nasty things about Daddy. To paraphrase Oscar Wilde it would take a heart of stone not to vomit.
This was not a genuine enquiry into the truth. It was a chimera. Senators on both sides showboated with one eye on the mid-terms and the other on the TV cameras. Everyone expressed outrage at everyone else’s behaviour. Having listened to Ford in the morning, the Republicans spent the afternoon assuring an angry, out-of-control, lachrymose, liar and probable sex pest, that he had been appallingly treated and that he would make a wonderful Judge. It was a more of a circus than the Circus Maximus in Gladiator – no proper enquiry into the facts, no attempt to compel witnesses to give evidence on oath or to be investigated by the FBI. They don’t care if and what he did to Ford or to anyone else. They don’t care if he’s lying. They want him to roll back social liberalism, they want to keep Trump happy, they need to be seen to win. How very dare these rabid menopausal women cause this wonderful family man with his neat little wife and his cute little daughters all this distress for something that happened so long ago, even though what happened so long ago shows that his temperament, his character and his failure to accept responsibility make him wholly unfit for the lifelong job he is about to be given? Maybe they’ll say she was credible but it was actually someone else who attacked her, although she was 100% sure it was him. Maybe they’ll say they just can’t be sure. But unless several GOP Senators decide to stand up, this will be just one more punch in the face for women.
Let us start our review of the week’s fashion follies with Catherine, the Duchess of Cambridge, at a friend’s wedding in Norfolk last weekend, wearing Catherine Walker and a Juliette Botterill headpiece.
Seriously? Kate is 36 years old. The late Queen Mother would have sneered at this. And what on earth is that thing on her head? It looks like one of those swimming caps worn by Florida matrons doing acqua-aerobics in Boca Raton.
Next up we have model Rosie Huntingdon-Whiteley in Milan, wearing Attico.
Rosie is gorgeous but that is no excuse for appearing in public as the subject of a David Attenborough ornithological special.
Here is actor Anthony Ramos wearing something very shiny at the Hollywood premiere of A Star Is Born in which he appears.
Shiny is not the half of it. Who needs a mirror when you have this suit gleaming like a giant snooker ball? And why is he wearing that terrible shirt, resembling the fuzzy patterns on the TV screen when the aerial fails?
This is our good friend, rapper Nicki Minaj, wearing Fendi.
Dear, dear, dear. Her cups runneth over. Or in this case, under. Underboob AND visible nipple activity (VNA). Dear, dear, dear.
The Abominable Snowman, with tits. There would be an extreme draft in the chest area. This outfit is by Fendi, by the way. In case you had not already noticed.
Former actress, former TV personality, still-a-celebritee-but-why? Kelly Brook with her French fiancé, Jeremy Parisi.
Kelly is wrapped in a particularly revolting bedspread. That is bad enough. But it could not be any more unsuitable for someone with a fuller figure and her embonpoint is more puckered than Brett Kavanaugh’s mouth. First we have the Duchess looking like the Queen Mum. Now we have Kelly, aged 38, resembling Hyacinth Bucket. What is occurring?
WTF favourite celebritee, Lizzie Cundy, wearing Design by Josh.
Design by Josh is Josh Birch-Jones, aged 13. Young Josh is clearly a fan of Harry Potter because he has dressed Lizzie as a sparkly witch with her own Halloween cloak. As he is only 13, it is possible that Josh has not quite got the hang of the concept of fake tits, but clearly Lizzie’s preposterous plastic puppies need more room than afforded by this sheath.
This is reality star David Potts wearing an outfit by OppoSuits (it costs £56).
The suit is terrible and if he has to wear it all, which he didn’t, he needs to take a size up. WTF is however more bothered by the ridiculous pose, the too-short trousers, and the fact he is wearing more makeup than the Superdrug warehouse.
Finally, here is Cheryl, formerly Fernandez-Versini, formerly Cole, née Tweedy, sort-of-singer, wearing Zuhair Murad. TO SOMEONE ELSE’S WEDDING.
This excrescence should not be worn anywhere, ever, unless Cheryl is planning to appear as Gypsy Rose Lee in a remake of Gypsy. But to wear this jewel-bedecked condom with Minge Fringe and yeti pubes at a wedding is simply unacceptable.
This week’s It’s Got to Go comes from WTF aficionado Claire from Boston who is very concerned about Prince George and his welfare, because of his almost weekly ordeal in having to wear shiny, multi-hued, knickerbockers to his parents’ friends’ social-climbing weddings. Clearly, says Claire, it cannot be a wedding worth its salt without the presence of George and his sister Charlotte. Charlotte is always frowning but at least she gets to wear pretty dresses, whereas every seven days, poor George is stuffed into some absurd Victorian get-up.
And don’t get Claire started on little boys in white stockings and white Tods. George will be psychologically ruined and he is only five! And whilst we are on the subject, WTF aficionado Susie of Greenwich wants to know why someone in the Royal Household could not iron his bloomers before he put them on. WTF stands shoulder to shoulder with Claire and Susie and it is clear that 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
WTF Supreme Special
The whole process of appointing the slimy, evasive, God-bothering, Brett Kavanaugh to the US Supreme Court has been a complete farce. He may deny it, but everyone knows that he has been chosen to roll back Roe v Wade, the landmark decision which held that women had a right to an abortion. He was put on a shortlist by a right-wing think tank which then handed the list to the White House. And what made Kavanaugh stand out on that list was not just that he was anti-abortion, anti-gay marriage, and anti-liberal; not just that he been legal adviser to George W Bush and an enthusiastic participant in prosecuting Bill Clinton for perjury. What made him stand out for Trump was that he, uniquely amongst the other conservatives on that list, would likely rule that Presidents could not be pursued for criminal or civil claims for acts committed whilst President. Which, seeing the way that things are going, what with Trump’s former associates singing more loudly than a Metropolitan Opera production of Wagner’s Ring Cycle, could come in very useful. So Trump wants him and the sycophants and fixers on the Senate Judiciary Committee are determined to railroad through the appointment, regardless of the candidate’s dodgy demeanour and predisposition to tell porkies, including about whether he told porkies the last time he went through the process, then for appointment as a Federal Judge.
Faced with accusations by university professor Christine Blasey Ford that Kavanaugh sexually assaulted her when they were teenagers three decades ago, neanderthal Senator Chuck Grassley, 85, first tried to brush them off. When he saw he could not do that, he proposed talking to her and to Kavanaugh by phone and then pressing on with the vote. After it became clear that this would also be unacceptable, he fixed a date for next Monday without bothering to ask Ford if it was convenient for her to attend. Grassley thinks it is appropriate to decide this matter by just hearing the two of them, with eleven pale, stale, male, Republicans cross-examining her with the obvious purpose of discrediting her so that they can get on with the confirmation. Several of them have already publicly indicated that they do not believe her. They do not think it appropriate to ask the other person allegedly present during the assault to give evidence under oath. They do not think it appropriate to ask the FBI to investigate the matter, even though the last time a putative Supreme Court Judge was facing similar accusations in 1991, the FBI carried out a full investigation and twenty two witnesses were called to give evidence, both courses supported by a certain Senator Chuck Grassley. They intend to make a decision without exploring whether there is any supporting evidence for Ford’s allegations. They pooh-pooh Ford’s objections that she wants an investigation first and that she also wants protection when she does attend, given the death threats and harassment she has already received. The majority members of the Senate Judiciary Committee are not interested in fairness but in expediency; because if they cannot get this vote through before November, there is a real chance that the Senate will fall under Democratic control and Kavanaugh’s appointment will be voted down. Tick. Tock.
WTF does not know whether Ford is telling the truth. She has not heard her give her account. It was a long time ago, and her evidence may be unreliable. But the Senate should ask why she is willing to go through this vitriol and danger and public humiliation if it is untrue, or why she raised it with her husband and a therapist eight years ago before Kavanaugh was ever mentioned as a Supreme Court possibility, or whether she would blatantly lie just to take one for the Democratic team, like some political kamikaze pilot. She has not heard Kavanaugh give his account. He might deny it because it never happened or because he was drunk and he cannot remember whether it happened or not. Or he may deny it because he wants to be a Supreme Court Judge and get rid of Roe v Wade. She has not heard the evidence of anyone else who might be able to assist in deciding what might or might not have happened. But she does know that some people still don’t get it when it comes to sexual assault. They still ask: Why didn’t she come forward earlier? What’s in it for her? What about the poor man and his wife and kiddies? This might be the era of #MeToo but the Majority of the Senate Judiciary Committee, eleven men committed to saving Trump’s arse (except perhaps Senator Sasse), the White House, and Republicans various are still living in the good old days when boys could be boys.
To the fashion foolishness of the week, starting with actor Joel Edgertonwearing Bruno Cuccinelli.
This is bad. Bad. BAD. He looks as if he has been rolling around in pig-shit. Nothing fits, nothing matches. He needs to take a size up. And buy an iron. And a mirror.
Here is Rihanna at the Diamond Ball she hosted, wearing Alexis Mabille.
This has a certain wit, but it has also a white lace Minge Moment. Which can never be good. WTF has also taken against the giant tit-bows like a bra for bunnies’ ears.
To New York Fashion Week and fashionista Anna dello Russo.
She is the lovechild of a squashed Christmas cracker and a mutant granite spiny lizard.
And now to the Emmys, the TV Oscars, where there was a fair amount of shockingness on view, starting with Gwendoline Christine, back again after last week’s debacle. This time she is wearing what appears to be a yellow nightgown by her boyfriend, Giles Deacon.
It’s Lady Macbeth, out for a nighttime stroll.
Meanwhile, WTF is tired of having to say this. Satin. Creases. Bigly.
This is actor and comedian Chris Sullivan wearing a most ridiculous suit by Mr Turk.
This suit is made out of the brocade wallpaper found in a Victorian knocking-shop. And there is more going on than in a Victorian knocking-shop. The only thing that is not going on, at least on Chris’s feet, is a pair of socks, leaving us to gaze forlornly upon pasty ankles.
Actress Tracee Ellis Ross wearing Valentino.
Tracee resembles a collapsed rhubarb crumble, (with matching eye makeup). It must be extremely stressful having to walk around all night clutching your embonpoint in one hand and your handbag in the other. What happened when she wants a glass of champagne or a canapé? Or she needs to shake someone’s hand? Was a minion on hand to feed her and proffer a straw? And as WTF observed earlier, Satin. Taffeta. Creases. Bigly.
This is model and activist Munroe Bergdorf wearing Gypsysport.
This deconstructed denim nonsense is getting well out of hand. First it was torn denim. Then it was virtually no denim at all, other than a sort of suspender effect. Then it was denim belts worn as bodices. Now the whole outfit is composed of denim belts. WTF is also extremely nervous of the consequences of someone un-popping those poppers
This week’s It’s Got to Go comes from all right-thinking people who cannot unsee the mental image of Donald Trump’s dick, as described by Stormy Daniels in her new book ‘Full Disclosure’. According to her, not only is the Trump todger smaller than average, but ‘It has a huge mushroom head. Like a toadstool’. Plus he has ‘yeti pubes’ and was crap in bed. The good news is that Trump cannot contradict the description or her assessment of his prowess, as he denies that he ever had jiggy-jiggy with her. The bad news is that, like a haunting melody, the image of that mushroom lingers on, and with it, a large number of previously enjoyable culinary experiences are now forever impossible. You did that Stormy. You have destroyed the mushroom industry, And given us all nightmares. 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
WTF BA Special
A few weeks ago, British Airways dismissed Sid Ouared, 26, after only two weeks in his job because he had a man bun. Sid, who is young enough to get away with a mun, was told that ‘he looked like a girl’ and was given the choice of wearing a turban (he is not Sikh), wearing his hair in dreadlocks (he is not Rastafarian), or getting the sack. He opted for the third and is now unemployed, doubtless consulting M’Learned Friends about an action for sex discrimination.
BA was very concerned that a male staff member might look like a girl. It should be more concerned about its CEO looking like an overpaid pillock, although, to be frank, hairy-faced Alex Crux would have to improve about 10,000 per cent just to aspire to pillock. Ever since he took over ‘The World’s Favourite Airline’ in 2016, having previously run the cut-price, crap, Spanish airline called Vueling, it has been one cock-up after another. Last year, the computer packed up on the second May Bank Holiday weekend. One thousand flights were cancelled and passengers were left stranded around the world, sleeping on the floor in departure lounges for several days, their luggage AWOL, or forced to abandon their sunny holidays and trudge back home to watch the umpteenth repeat of The Sound of Music on the telly. This year, the website was hacked (it took a whole fortnight before anyone noticed) and the data of 380,000 passengers (WTF’s included) was appropriated, including such insignificant matters as our names, addresses, credit card information (including the pin numbers) and bank account details. As it did last year, BA apologised profusely but has failed to accept any actual blame whilst Cruz remains in his preposterously well-paid job (he pocketed £1.36m in 2017) and will carry on wrecking BA with all the enthusiasm of a wrecking ball on steroids. Already under his tenure, he has abolished free food on flights in Economy lasting less five hours, instead flogging overpriced Marks & Spencer sandwiches and charging £3 50 for a paper cup of pre-brewed coffee, smelling of old socks. He has narrowed the legroom between seats in short-haul Economy to twenty-nine inches, less than on Ryanair, and has also removed reclining seats in short-haul Economy, presumably for the same reason. Customers are treated with open contempt by ground crew and cabin crew. You would have a more luxurious ride on the 253 bus to Tottenham Court Road. But hey! Who cares? Cruz certainly doesn’t. Shave a few quid off here, cut a corner there. So what if customers’ knees are embedded in the seat-back like a Tom and Jerry cartoon? So what if they can’t move their elbows without committing an act of grievous bodily harm on their neighbouring customers? So what if they are in London and their luggage is in Lagos? So what if someone is busily dipping into our bank account because BA could not keep its website safe? So what if customers have spent the last three days sitting on a phone line trying to get through to BA or to our Banks or our Credit Card issuers; at least it is not on the premium phone line BA set up last year after the May Bank holiday fiasco. And you know what, Readers? BA is going to get a massive fine for breaching its data protection obligations, and will have to pay millions more in compensation to those affected, and will probably lose a lot of customers who will switch to other airlines. But do you think Cruz will forgo his massive pay cheque and bonuses? Of course not. Do you think he is ashamed of his rubbish airline, his awful service, his uncomfortable seats and his ill-functioning IT? Cruz does not do shame. Shame is so last century….
We start our sartorial review with Tony award-winning actress Cynthia Erivoat the Toronto Film Festival, wearing Stella Macartney.
This is one ugly dress, sort of Caspar the Friendly Ghost takes clerical orders, and is yet further evidence, not that evidence were necessary, that Stella is taking the piss – bigly.
And here we are at the Creative Arts Emmys and Jonathan van Ness from Queer Eye, wearing Margiela.
Jonathan tweeted ‘We absolutely came to slay this lewk & fuck a gender norm, biggest congrats to the @queereye family on our wins!’, WTF is not bothered by gender norms, but she is bothered by a see-through top, a black shawl last seen on the King of Spain’s granny, but here worn as a skirt, and that ridiculous pose made infamous by Amgelina Jolie – and it looked stupid on her as well.
And now nonsense of the highest level at New York Fashion Week, starting with actress Gwendoline Christie (aka Brienne of Tarth in Game of Thrones), wearing Calvin Klein.
We have seen a few chaps in pyjamas recently, like the ridiculous Julian Schnabel on the Red Carpet in Venice last week. Now we have Gwendoline with hair like a poodle in her jim-jams, and her feet forced into extremely unfortunate sandals showcasing some strange-looking toes and no pedicure.
Next, we have pregnant model Slick Woods wearing Nina Ricci.
Slick is wearing a feather duster with matching mules. Does she rub herself up against the furniture to get it nice and shiny?
Actor Ansel Elgort wearing Prada Linea Rossa.
Ansel’s outfit is clearly inspired by The Golden Girls, the TV sitcom where four, ahem, mature ladies retire to Miami. He looks mortified, and he is not wrong.
This is a person called GloeNYC who manufactures the ‘the only bra and leg harness”, $200. The blinkers could be yours for only $80.
Why? That is the question. WHY? Why is a woman going about in a Swarovski -studded bra and leg harness? Fugaichi Pegasus was the world’s most expensive racehorse ever and even he didn’t have a Swarovski harness – or BOSS blinkers.
The Marc Jacobs show featured Nicki Minaj wearing one of his creations.
If Little Bo Peep went to a fancy dress party as pair of curtains with tits, this is what she would look like.
We call into the Harper’s Icons party hosted by Carine Roitfeld, where well known women looked really stupid. First up is singer Christina Aguilera, wearing Andreas Kronthaler for Vivienne Westwood.
This is Christina looking like a white Silkie chicken with red lippie and matching pumps (Christina, not the chicken).
And this is actress Victoria Justice wearing Paolo Sebastian.
This is the quintessence of Tacky McTacky from Tackyville. Paolo Sebastien should be tarred and feathered, whilst Victoria has been glued and fringed like a sleazy showgirl. The groin garland is greatly to be deplored. And she’s moulting…
Finally, here is model Bella Hadid wearing Mugler.
Whatever this is, it isn’t clothes, it is a flesh-coloured Minge Moment. She looks like a dance student who has forgotten her tutu and those tits are making the most determined bid for freedom since Clint Eastwood escaped from Alcatraz.
This week’s It’s Got To Go is Twat-In-A-Hat Ian Bone, an anarchist aged 71, seen here berating Jacob Rees-Mogg and his kiddies outside the Rees-Mogg residence in London on Wednesday.
Bonehead handed out various insults to Moggy and then told the junior Moggies, ‘Your daddy is a horrible, horrible person’. You can see that the little boy in the red shorts is very upset. WTF yields to no-one in her dislike of the ghastly Rees-Mogg, who is a knob, but having a go at his kiddies is another thing altogether and it stinks. This is real class warfare, isn’t it mate, picking on posh kiddies? Someone should take Bone’s stick and shove it where the sun don’t shine. He’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
WTF Just Do It Special
This week, Nike put out a new series of ads for its new campaign ‘Dream Crazy’, featuring a host of famous athletes, including two of its major stars, Serena Williams and LeBron James, and its newest signing, American Footballer Colin Kaepernick. The campaign was launched on Monday with a giant billboard showing Kaepernick’s face in full closeup and the words ‘Believe in Something. Even if it means sacrificing everything.‘ At which point, America was hit by another collective attack of Trump-induced idiocy. So what else is new?
Kaepernick played football for the 49ers until 2016, when he became a free agent, but although he had been well regarded, no other NFL team came in for him. Why? Many believe it was linked to his decision that year to take a knee during the National Anthem in protest against unarmed black kids shot dead by white police officers, officers who were never brought to justice. The kneeling gesture came out of Kaepernick’s discussion with an army veteran who advised him that whilst sitting on the bench during the Anthem, his initial protest, was disrespectful, kneeling with his hand on his heart was not. Which is what Kaepernick then did, and others soon followed, only to be attacked for disrespecting the flag, the military and veterans. Kaepernick is now suing the NFL for conspiring to deny him a career. Matters hotted up last year when Trump, in one of his rabble-rousing, Nuremberg-style rallies to the faithful (collective IQ 45, and WTF is being generous), called protesting players ‘sons of bitches’ and demanded they be fired. Since then Trumpy, who might well be thought to have more important things to worry about, like being impeached, has waged war on the NFL for allowing these kneeling displays to continue, and on the players, who are black, calling them unpatriotic. This from a man who said that Sen. John McCain, who was tortured for five years as a POW in Hanoi, was not a hero because he had been captured, and who described his (Trumpy’s) own personal Vietnam as avoiding the clap.
When the billboard appeared on Monday, Twitter went raving mad with morons who probably have done no exercise in 25 years other than walking to the fridge to stuff their faces with comestibles full of sugar, salt and fats, calling for a boycott of Nike and burning their trainers. In one case, someone set fire to his trainers whilst he was still in them, and then posted pictures of himself in the Emergency Ward with toasted tootsies. You have to be a special kind of stupid to ignite your trainers whilst your feet are still in them, and also not to grasp that burning stuff you have already paid for is not a boycott, but a wardrobe cleanse.
Taking the knee is not disrespecting the flag. It is not dissing the military. It is not attacking American values. What does assault American values is shooting unarmed citizens because of the colour of their skin, and then getting away with it, because in the USA, all men are supposedly created equal with certain inalienable rights, including the right not to shot dead when they just have popped out for a pint of milk or are driving along in their car minding their own business. According to Trump and the Trumpistas, well-paid players should just pocket their pay checks and be grateful. But you know what Readers? Colin Kaepernick and his colleagues do not have to be grateful, except perhaps to the Lord for giving them wonderful talent. As prominent black Americans, they have a voice and they want to, and need to, make that voice heard. They will not be told to shut up. They believe in something. And in Kaepernick’s case, it has cost him his career. Nike’s motives may be more commercial than social, but good on them for giving Kaepernick a platform. Because there are certain things that must be fought for. Just Do It.
There is a lot of dodgy clobber to get through this week. We begin our review at the Venice Film Festival, where nonsense was in much abundance. Take actress Chloe Grace Moretz, wearing Miu Miu. Scroll down slowly. At first you will wonder what the fuss is about. Then you will know….
Prince Hal (the Shakespearian one, not our current one) remarked of Falstaff that ‘he doth lard the earth as he walks along‘. Similarly, Chloe doth polish the floor as she walks along. WTF has seen many really stupid pairs of trousers, but these ones take the Bex Bissell.
And now a trio of appallingly dressed men, starting with veteran film director Spike Lee wearing who can even say what?
Any of these items of clothing might have been OK worn with something sensible, but putting them altogether is just plain bonkers like a blindfold rummage in the couture outlet store.
Next director and artist Julian Schnabel wearing his jim jams.
Did he oversleep? Why is he on the Red Carpet in his pyjamas and a most ill-fitting jacket? Why would you give a man who can’t tie his own shoelaces a zillion-dollar budget to make a movie? *Baffled*
And last, singer Thom Yorke wearing Dries van Noten.
This is sort of part ageing hippie, part Dulux colour chart. And he has a mun (a man-bun). Thom looks embarrassed. He should be.
And we cannot leave Venice without reeling at actress Chloë Sevigny wearing Chanel.
This is a sick swan. This swan needs to go to the Swan Sanctuary at Shepperton, Middlesex (yes, there really is one). This is Swan Lakewith droopage. Call the vet!
Back in Blighty and here is Love Island starlet Cally Jane Beech wearing Pretty Little Thing.
Sigh. You can get the whole ensemble for £48. And you will have overpaid. Buy a cheap net curtain from Dunelm, put a piece of it over your bra and form some sleevelets, find some white panties, and you’re good to go.
Sadly we must again feature actress Dascha Polanco, wearing something truly, truly, bad.
Is poor Dascha entirely friendless in the world? Because she seems so lovely. Surely someone, a friend, a family member, a loved one, her agent, can take to one side and point out that almost everything she wears makes her look like a sack of shit? Particularly the boots. How do you get them on? And off again? And why would you want to put them on in the first place?
And now a cornucopia of crap from the GQ Men of the Year Awards in London, starting with singer and another WTF regular Rita Ora, wearing Ralph & Russo.
Part striptease artiste, part metal fence. And whoever did her makeup needs a slap, a P45 and another slap.
Model Abbey Clancy wearing Minge Maestro Julien Macdonald.
We have not seen Abbey for a while as she had another baby a few months ago. Her body is amazing, but anyone dressed in Julien Macdonald will end up in a froth of vulgarity and this is absolutely no exception. Abbey looks as if she got half way through the Dance of the Seven Veils before being interrupted, like Coleridge when his train of thought for Kubla Khanwas disturbed by the Person from Porlock. WTF observes two things. First, that pointless floaty thing passing as a skirt has been speared by Abbey’s stiletto and has a hole in it. And second, as she has said in relation to women posing with their hands over their hands over crotch, if you have to put your hand over your breast, there is something wrong with your dress. And with you for wearing it.
Meet musician Olly Alexander, wearing Palomo.
He looks as though he is playing Puck in A Midsummer Night’s Dream. What the hell is he wearing?
And finally, actress Kate Beckinsale also wearing Julien Macdonald.
On seeing this horror, WTF aficionado Schona from Paddington noted that Kate resembled a lady wrestler who did not know how to put on her sari. A sari is composed of five metres of fabric which are supposed to go around your body at least once, with lots of folds and tucking in. This is seriously deficient in the folds and tucking-in departments. And in the decency department. Julien Macdonald – go away.
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, for which there was simply no room this week. Let us meet again next Friday. Be good x
WTF English Irony Special
In 2013, Jeremy Corbyn, then a back bencher with no thought of higher office, made a speech in support of the representative of the Palestinian Authority whose words had been recorded at an earlier meeting by ‘the thankfully silent Zionists who were in the audience and then came up and berated him afterwards for what he’s said’. Apparently, the aforementioned Zionists had misunderstood what had been said. So, said Corbyn to this particular meeting, attended, by the way, by a vicar who thinks that the Israelis were behind 9/11,
‘Two problems. One is they don’t want to study history, and secondly, having lived in this country for a very long time, probably all their lives, they don’t understand English irony either.’
Let us put aside the fact that Corbyn has the sense of humour of a dormant potato. Let me, as a Jew, the daughter of a refugee mother who first came here in 1947 and a father born here to parents who arrived here in 1907 to escape the pogroms, explain exactly what is so offensive about what Corbyn said.
First, ‘Zionists’ here means ‘Jews’. Of course there are Zionists who are not Jews just as there are Jews who are not Zionists. But it is as clear as day that Corbyn was not talking about non-Jews because, if he had been, he would not have referred to their purported inability to understand ‘English irony’ despite ‘having lived in this country for a very long time’. It means that ‘they’ are outsiders who are not part of this country. ‘They’ do not belong here. ‘They’ do not get it. ‘They’ are not like us. Even Baroness Chakrabati’s infamous ‘investigation’ into Labour Anti-Semitism accepted that she had “heard testimony and heard for myself first hand the way in which the word ‘Zionist’ has been used personally, abusively or as a euphemism for “Jew”‘. But of course Corbyn did not mean ‘Jew’ here. He never does.
Second, do you suppose for one minute that Corbyn would have used that language about someone whose heritage was African or Pakistani or Irish? Despite ‘having lived in this country for a very long time…they don’t understand English irony either’. And had the aforementioned ethnic minority persons then objected to his use of language and the sentiments behind it, would they have had their arguments rejected as ‘smears’ and ‘conspiracies’ ? You know damn well that they would not.
Third, this seems to be happening just a little too often to be a coincidence, don’t you think? One may be regarded as a misfortune. Twice looks like carelessness. Time and time again looks like either an inability to understand or downright hostility.
And fourth, when you have the enthusiastic support of David Duke, former Grand Leader of the Ku Klux Klan (also a big supporter of Donald Trump), and Nick Griffin (former head of the BNP) for your comments about Jews, you have probably got it wrong. Look at his other supporters. Look at the guy who tweeted this week ‘Joined the Labour Party today. Why? When an honest, decent, compassionate man like JC is villified by an unholy alliance of the right-wing press, the jewish lobby and backstabbers like Berger, Umunna and Watson, time for people to make their voice heard’. The Jewish lobby. You know, those Jewish, Globalist, Blairite, bankers with no sense of British irony. So that’s it, Readers. Corbyn and I are done.
We start our non-English ironic review of the week’s sartorial sluice, with model Hailey Baldwin and her fiancé, singer Justin Bieber.
Hailey and Justin are soon to become one in the eyes of God, and it seems that they already have, adopting identical blond buns like his’n’hers continental breakfasts.
As these two go through life together, let us hope that their relationship is closer than the one Justin’s shorts have with his waist. How hard is it to keep your shorts up?
To the Venice Film Festival and model Izabel Goulart, wearing Philisophy di Lorenzo Serafini.
This is mostly the usual yawn-making sheer stuff, but in this case unaccountably topped off with a puritan ruff as if Rembrandt had been transported into the tawdry world of the 21st century nonsense that is the fashion industry.
This is actress and celebrity daughter, Rumer Willis, wearing August Getty Atelier.
Is she sleepwalking, like a boudoir-clad Lady Macbeth? She must have been asleep when she bought or borrowed this ensemble because it is silly and it does not to fit her anywhere – the sleeves are too long, the trousers are too tight, the sandals are too big and the bralet is too small. Mathematics are not WTF’s strong suit, but you would think that, just on the law of averages, Rumer would have got one of them right.
To the iHeart Radio MMVA Awards in Toronto and singer Meghan Trainor, wearing The Blonds.
Meghan is wearing the sort of bra Rigby & Peller reserve for formidably upholstered dowagers, whilst her jacket looks like something Robinson Crusoe wore after a couple of years cast ashore on the desert island.
Singer Bebe Rexha, was in Toronto as well, also wearing The Blonds.
Bebe is dressed as a trapeze artist doing a waitressing shift in the circus café. If it is cold enough for boots, then it is surely not warm enough for a bejewelled leotard with a bodice as ill-suited to its task as Theresa May is to African dancing.
To the BET Black Girls Rock! Awards in New Jersey and singer Janet Jackson, wearing Christian Siriano.
The dress is lovely, despite the studded harness, but why does she have a giant turd on her head?
Next we have actor Bazaar Royale and his wife, former model and founder of the event, Beverly Bond.
Here is another happy couple mirroring each other (in this case literally) as they strive to preserve a lifetime of connubial bliss. Beverly’s décolletage is less a tit window and more the whole shop frontage of Saks Fifth Avenue. As for her spouse, he reminds WTF of the late perennial election candidate, Screaming Lord Sutch, whilst his shoes are inspired by Coco the Clown.
Finally, here is singer Mary J Blige in Roberto Cavalli.
It is of course supremely vulgar because Cavalli is the quintessence of vulgarity, including the inevitable threat of an imminent minge moment, as per bloody usual. The top is adorned by a tit tiger-lily and the polo neck top makes Mary’s head appear to have been plonked on from someone else’s body.
This week’s It’s Got To Go comes from WTF aficionado WTF who has taken against Congressman Ron deSantis, the Republican gubernatorial candidate for Florida.
This slimebucket, a devoted Trump acolyte, went on Fox News – where else? – to warn Floridians against the perils of electing ‘socialist’ Andrew Gillum, the Democratic candidate, who happens to be black. DeSantis said ‘The last thing we need to do is to monkey this up by trying to embrace a socialist agenda with huge tax increases and bankrupting the state.’ Even Fox News thought that was unacceptable, so you can imagine how bad it was. Now deSantis could have been dog whistling, in which case he is a piece of shit; or he was too inept to know that using ‘monkey’ when talking about a black person is utterly crass, and, by refusing to apologise, he is a piece of shit. Either way, he is a piece of shit and he has simply 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