You remember Sidney Carton. He is the hero of A Tale of Two Cities, set at the time of the French revolution. He is deeply in love with Lucie, but she is in love with, and was loved by, French émigré Charles Darnley, who is really a French aristocrat and heir to the evil Marquis St. Évromonde. When the Marquis is murdered, Darnley goes over to France in 1792, is captured and is condemned to the guillotine. Carton, who just happens to be a Darnley lookalikey, takes his place so that his friend and Lucie can be together. As the book ends, Sidney is about to get the chop, but is consoled by the good he is doing. ‘It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known’.
Theresa May is an unlikely Sidney Carton, but on Wednesday night she offered to put her head on the block if her party promised to vote for her Brexit plan, the one that has already been voted down twice by a weird combination of the dastardly Old Etonians, led by le Duc de Boris and le Marquis de Mogg, the rude mechanicals led by Marc Francois and Andrew Bridgen, a truly terrifying rabble from Northern Ireland, and the sans-culottes that are Corbyn’s Labour Party. As a rallying cry, ‘Vote for my crap deal and I promise to go back to Maidenhead’ may not have the ring of ‘Liberté, égalité, fraternité, ou la mort!’, but the clock is ticking and the copywriters are out of time. We were supposed to be out of Europe at 11 pm today. But we are still arguing how – and if – to do it.
The Northern Irish lot remain staunchly opposed, as do most of the European Research Group, of which Le Marquis is Chair. This includes Fatboy Francois, who declared that he would not support the deal were someone to put a shotgun in his mouth. WTF would settle for a ball-gag and some extra-adhesive masking tape. The same goes for Bridgen, a man whose expertise on European politics led him to assert that as a Brit, he was automatically entitled to an Irish passport. (Er…no). However, le Duc and le Marquis have suddenly embraced the very plan they have already voted against and which they attacked for reducing us all to slave-nation status. This change of mind may have less to do with the merits of the deal and more to do with the prospect of the removal van in front of No 10 Downing Street, as May, her chunky Wilma Flintstone jewellery, and her long-suffering husband, climb aboard and ride off into obscurity, leaving the job of Prime Minister up for grabs.
So this is where we are. Our heroine is willing to make the ultimate sacrifice, but even that inducement may not work. Which leaves us up the creek without a canoe. Forget Brexit Means Brexit and the promised Land of Milk and Honey. We are facing Crap Deal or No Deal, and Boris Johnson as Prime Minister, a man who would sell his granny for sixpence and even deny her the right to take her dentures. Far from re-asserting our place in the World, we have become an international laughing stock. England used to tell Irish jokes. France used to tell Belgian jokes. Now the World is telling British jokes. Remember Project Fear? This is Project Fucking Terrifying.
We start the weekly review of fashion faecal matter, beginning with singer Rita Ora wearing Denim on Denim by Diesel.
This is what happens when you cross a sheep and a pair of jeans. If it is cold enough for a fleecy coat and boot-spats, it is too cold for a denim romper, the shirt tails emerging from a micro-skirt like denim minge-flaps. And sunglasses in the dark – only if you have a sty.
This is actress Ginnifer Goodwin at Paleyfest, wearing Zuhair Murad.
This ill-fitting mess looks like cosy thermal long-johns, only it is designed by Zuhair Murad, not Damart. Indeed, it is likely that Damart’s wares would have provided more support for Ginnifer’s boobage, and would not have sagged around the patellae like grandpa’s neglected sleepwear.
To the Nickelodeon Kids’ Choice Awards, where we encounter Hiphoppers Migos, wearing Alyx Studio. All of them.
What kiddies’ choice was this? Weird things are happening around the knees, perhaps to prevent the droopage we have seen on Ginnifer. And why are they wearing clown shoes?
Here is singer and actress Jennifer Hudson wearing Hanifa.
My Little Pony has turned her hooves to designing trousers. Sadly, they do not fit.
Finally from the Awards, here is actor Shameik Moore, wearing who can even say what this is?
The designer of this horror has kept himself or herself anonymous. Good Call. It looks like khaki vomit with a double helping of carrot.
Welcome back to WTF’s favourite diva, Mariah Carey wearing Balmain.
Mariah is 5’6″ but this Balmain creation barely passes muster as a top, as the rear view, almost literally, demonstrates.
Mariah favours towering stilettos like these bejewelled Louboutins, which means that she can only get from A to B by clutching onto the hand of a beau or paid minion. Sadly, she has chosen pantyhose in the wrong hue and so shiny that her legs look like a couple of uncooked sausages.
Actor and entertainer Billy Porter has appalled us quite a few times this year, and here he is well up to his low standards, wearing a kaftan by self-styled ‘kaftan queen’ Travis Ostreich, a jacket by Palomo and trousers by Vassili.
The colour combo is striking, but everything is so glaring that you would want to find Rita Ora and offer your life savings for her sunglasses. And that jacket clearly started off life in the kiddies’ department at Bloomingdales.
Finally, to Rio and Brazilian TV presenter Sabrina Sato wearing Tomo Koizumi.
Well this is colourful. Plus wearing a couple of feather dusters means that she sweep up as she walks…..
This week’s It’s Got to Go comes from WTF aficionado WTF of Islington, who has taken against Theresa May’s coat. She is sick of seeing the Prime Minister, for now anyway, wandering around the place dressed like a pastel Paddington Bear.
This horrible shapeless garment is actually a padded jacket with a detachable elbow-lenth coat over it. It is by Italian designer Herno and it could be yours for a mere £750.
Like May herself, It’s Got To Go.
OK Readers, that’s your lot for this week. Keep sending your splendid comments as well as your suggestions for It’s Got To Go. Let us meet again next Friday. Be good. x
Paddington Bear had far more style, class and integrity than Mrs May. Better manners too.
I’m following Brexshit like a sad sack but who is ‘Fatboy Francois?
He is a backbench MP who is a mega Brexiteer and thick as double dogshit.
The shoes Migos are wearing would suggest they are planning a gig at the Palace of Westminster.
A few hours after you posted this, Ms. May’s deal was rejected by Parliament for the third time. In American baseball, that is strike three and the batter is required to sit down and let somebody else swing at the ball. Instead, Ms May is promising to sit down as soon as she hits the ball, but please let her go on swinging until she hits something.
In the time-honored words of baseball umpires everywhere “Yer OUT!”