This week brought a number of revelations, all of them surprising. Revelation number one. The German word for ‘shitstorm’ is ‘shitstorm’. It appears that our main contribution to the EU will be the word ‘shitstorm’. What a legacy. As Christina Rossetti almost said,
Remember me when I am gone away
Gone far away into the silent land
When you can no more hold me by the hand,
Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay….
Yet if You should forget me for a while, and afterwards remember….
Remember I gave you the word shitstorm.
Not of course that we are going very far away, should May’s deal go through. Revelation number two – her proposal has us stuck temporarily in the EU, part in, part out, without a say in anything but still paying through the nose for the privilege of Great Britain staying in the customs union and Northern Ireland remaining in the single market, with the border floating about somewhere in the ether, until we can negotiate a better deal and finally leave. Except that we now know that the Attorney General advised the Government that we may never be able to leave because the Transition Agreement may not allow it, even were the negotiations to fail – or never start at all. We will be in limbo, flailing about like a character in a Greek myth, trapped forever by our own hubris. Which brings us to revelation number three. A Government can be held in Contempt of Parliament. It happened this week after May refused to hand over the aforesaid legal advice in full because she said it was privileged (despite having waived the privilege by talking about it). And no wonder she did not want us to see it, as it showed that her plan was more stark-bollock-naked than the Emperor in Hans Christian Anderson’s fairy tale. Revelation number four. When the deal is rejected in Parliament next Tuesday, as it will be, the idea of a second referendum, once reviled as the stupidest idea since David Cameron promised us a referendum to shut up the UKIP-inclined contingent in the Tory party, may not be as unlikely as everyone once thought because the alternative is even worse, to leave without a deal and be out of everything with no guarantee of anything and the likely dissolution of the Union to boot. Oh and revelation number five, hot off the press. There will be no Brexit Deal showdown between May and Corbyn on ITV or BBC as no one can agree on its timing or format. WTF’s idea to merge the debate with the final of I’m A Celebrity, Get Me Out Of Here came to nothing, Like everything else about this debacle.
There are times when WTF wonders whether May has been playing a blinder, making Brexit so hopeless that everyone would say ‘oh to hell to it, let’s stay in after all’. She probably hasn’t. But it would be lovely to think that she has been a leopard-skin-shod Trojan horse all along, making fools out of Johnson and Gove and Davies and Fox and little Moggy. Not that they needed any help….
We start our review of the week’s clothing crapulousness with actress Mandy Moore at the Hollywood Reporter Power 100 Women in Entertainment party, wearing Gabriela Hurst.
Readers, over the years you and I have become used to a tit window, but this is an appalling new phenomenon, a tit window with curtains. and not just that, but a hearse tit window with half curtains.
This is rapper ASAP Rocky wearing Dior Homme.
Rocky, the new face of Dior Man, is trying his best to look good in a lacy see-through shirt, silver foil trewsies and overpriced trainers. But it is a task beyond anyone, even a cool dude like him.
To the British Independent Film Awards in London where we encounter the new Dr Who, actress Jodie Whittaker, wearing Aphid London and Louboutin bootees.
If a time machine could whisk Jodie back to the moment before she put on this frillfest and hideous booties like a Regency doxy, WTF would bet a penny to a pinch of shit that she would hop right on board.
Actor Christopher Meloni at the Netfliux premiere of Roma, wearing a load of old tat.
Christopher used to play mean, moody and manly Detective Eliot Stabler, partnering the lovely, touchy-feely, Detective Olivia Benson on Law & Order – Special Victims’ Unit. Then he stomped out in a huff because of a dispute over money and since then he has been largely anonymous, occasionally pitching up wearing shocking outfits like this one. No one should wear a back-to-front baseball cap, and particularly not a man in his late 50s, because it makes everyone look like a prat.
To Melbourne where we meet the designer duo behind the Australian label Romance Was Born, Luke Sales and Anna Plunkett.
He looks like Luciano Pavarotti singing Rudolfo in La Bohème. Anna resembles the Australian galah bird in fuchsia bootees.
And now a couple of total shockers from the Versace Front Row in New York. First actress Tracee Ellis Ross.
The dress is a gorgeous colour but the tits are more adrift than a couple of castaways and for reasons which are far from clear, she has curtain ties hanging from the hem and ears. Yurgle.
And here we have actor Norman Reedus and his beloved, actress Diane Kruger.
Diane used to go out with lovely Joshua Jackson, but then switched her attention to Norman, who looks like a cut price Sean Bean with bad hair. He is in the sort of a foul checked suit worn by a bookie’s runner. WTF does not even know what Diane is supposed to be wearing but, like Tracee, it is not doing the job in the tits department, or indeed, in any department, not even at all.
Finally, brace yourselves, because here is über-ghastly health guru Gillian McKeith. One hopes that she is not making another bid for the coveted WTF Christmas Turkey this year because it is going to be an all-male affair…..
Gillian sprang to fame on TV examining people’s poo. Now she has taken to wearing it.
This week’s It’s Got to Go comes from WTF aficionado Sue from London, who has taken against Melania Trump’s Christmas decorations for the White House featuring these blood-red trees.
There is festive, there is folly and there is Hammer House of Horror. This is not so much Christmas as Nightmare on Pennsylvania Avenue. The present incumbents of number 1600 are quite frightening enough with adding this bloodbath into the mix. One expects Freddy Kruger to pop out from behind the foliage at any minute. It’s Got To Go.
OK Readers, that’s your lot for this week. Do not neglect to send your splendid comments and your suggestions for It’s Got To Go. Let us meet again next Friday. Be good. x
If only Freddie Kruger would pop out from behind the ‘Carriesque’ trees we would all applaud
It’s Got to Go in the White House has a very eerie Handmaid’s Tale feel to it. #justsaying
I don’t think the Christmas Turkey can be an all male affair after all. I thought Diane Kruger was just wearing body paint from the waist up. And what you called a Galah, I thought was a Flamingo. Photographer should have got her to kick back one leg.