So this is it. Friday 31 January 2020 is the day that Britain waves bye-bye to the EU. At 11 pm tonight, Big Ben will not bong (the clock is under renovation), but Brexiteers various will pop open the British sparkling wine and uncap bottles of British beer and cheer lustily as we step into the sunlit uplands where chlorinated chickens scuttle about squeaking happily, where German car manufacturers are gagging to sell you shiny new motors at a knock-down price, and where you can now spend an hour in an immigration queue to get into those countries we have given the finger to, but which happen to have nice food and wine and stunning, sandy, beaches. We have our country back, ‘this blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England.’ And Wales. And Scotland (for now). And Northern Ireland (for now).
But what are we going to do with this new-found freedom? Are we going to spend all that money we will save (after the divorce bill is paid) on hospitals, schools, and social services? Or are we going to spend it on tax cuts for the wealthy and big business? Are we going to consolidate employee benefits that EU employment law left us, like maximum working hours, the right to equal pay, maternity rights, and protection against discrimination? Or are we going to make life easier for employers and start cut, cut, cutting employee rights? You can bet your new blue passport that the answer to those questions in each case is the second option and not the first. This week saw Holocaust Memorial Day and the 75th anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz. We saw what hate and others led to. And it is again rearing its ugly head. You think Britain is going to be a better place, now that it is OK to tell anyone with a brown face or a funny foreign accent to piss off back to where they came from, even though some of them actually come from here, and many of those who don’t have lived here and paid taxes for decades, and many others are not EU citizens anyway and come from somewhere else altogether? You think Britain is going to be a better place, where we are subject to the whims of an orange madman in the White House for our next trade deal? Do you think Britain is going to be a better place where the Government is openly talking about dismembering human rights laws, and slapping down pesky lawyers who have the temerity to challenge abuses of power?
As far as WTF is concerned, she can but hope that it absolutely pisses down with rain over Parliament Square tonight, soaking the Nigel Farages and the Katie Hopkinses and Jim Davidsons and the Tommy Robinsons and the Jacob Rees-Moggs and the Dominic Raabs and the Kate Hoeys, as they dance around cheering their heads off and throwing their newly minted fifty pence commemorative coins up into the air. WTF will be at home drinking some good French wine and shouting imprecations at the television. As for David Cameron, he should lock himself in his log cabin and hang his head in shame. But of course he will not doing that. He will be too busy counting his royalties.
Happy New Future everyone. But it won’t be…..
Our survey of the week’s sartorial shit-pile features ‘clothes’ from the Grammys, held in Los Angeles last weekend. We start with Canadian singer Orville Peck, wearing a Dior shirt and a face fringe.
Apparently the face fringe is his USP, but he looks like a pillock nonetheless. As for the hat, it has a rim like a toilet seat, while the half-finished pot in the middle puts one in mind of that scene with Demi Moore and Patrick Swayze in Ghost.
Priyanka usually looks good on the Red Carpet but her stylist here should get a slap, a P45 and another slap. This beach kaftan not only offers a preponderance of tit, but a V so low that it dips into a fanny flower. As for Nick, he has come dressed as a Grammy Award, complete with matching shoes.
Model Shaun Ross, wearing a design of his own creation.
Dear Lord! First, there was Joseph and his coat of many colours. And now we have Shaun and his coat of many pustules. And his shirt. And his boots. Sitting down must have left his nether regions with more indentations than a golf ball.
Singer and Trump Tosser Joy Villa, wearing Dedesigns.
You rarely hear of Joy between music award ceremonies, for which relief much thanks. A few years ago, she expressed the desire to stand as a Republican candidate for Congress, but it seems that even the GOP, albeit that it has parted with its senses, is not that dumb. Why is this woman even invited?
Singer/Dancer Paula Abdul at a pre-Grammys party, wearing something really horrible.
Paula has come dressed as Poison Ivy from Batman, with a Minge Moment.
Rapper Lil Nas X (né Montero Lamar Hill), wearing Versace.
Yee haw! You never saw Clint Eastwood dressed like this. Lil Nas X is putting the Oh! into Oklahoma.
Singer and multiple-prize winner on the night, young Billie Eilish wearing Gucci.
The Coronavirus is certainly worrying, but surely Billie was taking precaution too far? The mask might prove handy in Liaoning, but in Los Angeles it seems somewhat superfluous. However, Billie seems to have been afflicted by something else quite serious, as she has gone mouldy.
The pre-Grammys parties on Saturday night saw singer Lizzo, wearing THIS.
WTF doesn’t give a stuff what size you are. Spanx Power Panties, a wraparound top and fishnet tights are not an outfit. Not even at all.
If Jessica Rabbit went to fancy dress party as a pole dancer, this is what she would look like.
As for Mr Rabbit, WTF can only assume that the alarm system had failed at home, requiring him to wear his entire jewellery collection to the ceremony for insurance purposes.
Rapper Tyler the Creator (né Tyler Gregory Okonma), wearing a bellhop uniform.
Bellhops usually carry other people’s suitcases. This one is carrying his own. Go figure…..
This last one is BAD. BADDER THAN BAD. THAT BAD. Ready? You won’t be. Here is ‘singer’ and Trump Tosser Ricky Rebel, (né Ricky Godinez), wearing Andre Soriano.
Ricky champions gay rights. Has he ever asked himself how this attire, let alone gay rights, would play in the Trump heartlands? He would be lucky to get out alive. Hell, he was lucky to get out of this auditorium alive. He brought his own lace chuppah, like a Gay Jewish remake of Game of Thrones‘ Red Wedding, and was togged up in boots, trousers with blowholes, and peekaboo fringes. And the back is even worse.
This is an arse airing with the words ‘IMPEACH THIS’ written on his bare buttocks. What would Mike and Karen Pence think? WTF knows what she thinks, but she won’t repeat it to avoid spoiling your breakfast yet further.
This week’s It’s Got To Go is from WTF aficionado Gita (@MsAlliance) from Hong Kong (via Beckenham) who has drawn attention to Gucci’s new Fall collection. Cute, isn’t it? But here’s the thing. This is the MEN’s collection.
WTF is sure that Gita likes a laugh as well as the next person, (she reads this blog for a start), but honestly, this is a laugh too far. She is right. It’s Got To Go.
OK Readers, that’s your lot for this week. Keep sending in your comments, which will bring cheer to WTF in these dark times, and please don’t forget your super suggestions for It’s Got To Go. Let us meet again next Friday. Be good. x