Hallo Readers,

It may be Valentine’s Day today, but in Westminster there is precious little love around for Judges. Why? Because it appears that they are interfering with the right of politicians and civil servants to cock up, dissemble, and abuse their powers. The impertinence! We did not leave Europe and slip out of the Brussels yoke just to have men and women in wigs and spider brooches laying down the law…oh hang on…

The rot set in when the Supreme Court twice overruled the Government and stymied its Brexit moves; first by requiring Parliament to vote on triggering Article 50, and then to overturn the prorogation of Parliament when Prime Minister Johnson told porky pies to Her Majesty about the reason for shutting everything down for weeks on end. Since then, those pesky judges have prevented some, but not all, of a group of convicted criminals from being deported to Jamaica, a place they might have been born in, but last lived in decades ago. The courts stepped in because some of those scheduled to board Con Air 666 had yet to have the benefit of legal advice. You may think that it is perfectly reasonable that someone who has lived for since he wore nappies, who has a family here, who has worked here and paid taxes here, might want to discuss his deportation with a lawyer before being flown to a place he hardly knows, but not according to Grant Shapps, the oleaginous little creep who is Secretary of State for Transport. Speaking on Radio 4, Shapps said “we shouldn’t have the courts being used to overturn perfectly legitimate decisions”. The thing is, Grant, WTF would rather have a judge be the judge of what is a legitimate decision than the likes of you, a man who has gone by three different names, including nom de plume Michael Green, denied using one of them, and then had to apologise for denying it, but not  before he had threatened to sue one of his own constituents for saying that he had used it. Downing Street then dismissed these transgressions by saying that Shapps had been ‘over-enthusiastic in his denials’. I mean you’d trust Shapps to make legitimate decisions, right? And now, after Johnson’s reshuffle yesterday, we have a new Attorney-General, Suella Braverman MP, who thinks that Parliament has to “take back control” not just from the EU, but from the Courts. Braverman is a rabid Brexiteer and a former Chair of the European Research Group (succeeded by Bertie-Wooster-soundalikey Jacob Rees-Mogg). Her word is really reliable, right? No need for judges to exercise scrutiny over her legitimate decisions….

For some time, Johnson’s role model, Donald Trump, has been decrying judges, prosecutors and even jurors, as the ‘enemies of the people’. Last night, even the US Attorney-General, Bill Barr, Trump’s lap-dog, was forced to make a public statement suggesting that maybe he should tone it down, albeit that he probably does not believe a word of it and knows Trump won’t listen anyway. On this side of the pond, our Attorney-General wants to make the judges’ jobs harder. Fasten your wigs – it is going to be a bumpy ride…….

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For our review of the week’s sartorial slurry, we go to the Oscars in Hollywood, both on the ceremony’s Red Carpet and at the glitzy after-parties.  Let us begin with actress Sandra Oh, wearing Elie Saab.

The belt is truly terrible, and she seems to have a couple of doggies hanging off her shoulders, with several more having moulted mightily on her skirt.

Singer Charlie Puth, wearing Fendi.

Charlie resembles a children’s entertainer on a cruise ship. And what tragic trewsies….

Model Joan Smalls, wearing Schiaparelli.

WTF is bewildered, and then bewildered some more. Joan’s chest is being groped from behind by two silvery hands (was this a kind of tribute to the absent Harvey Weinstein?) whilst the alleged skirt is some sort of ruched flag.

Model Taylor Hill, wearing Ralph & Russo.

Not only is it very mingey but, as WTF aficionado Alessandra points out, the dress is covered with bloodsucking leeches.

This probably explains the blood-soaked, pube-like, hairy bits on the skirt.

Actor Tommy Dorfman, wearing Maison Margiela.

If a colander went to a fancy dress party as an Emmenthal cheese, this is what it would look like. We can at least least be grateful that we were spared the penis peek.

Actress and singer Gabrielle Union, wearing Giambattista Valli.

Giambattista has sewn a shower puff onto a tea cosy and called it a gown. And why is the diamanté belt at tit level? 

Actress Gil Gadot wearing Givenchy.

Half vamp, half candy-floss, all bad. The top and the bottom are wholly unrelated to each other, and the necklace is unrelated to anything.

Actor Timothée Chalamet, wearing Prada.

Why is he dressed as a janitor?

Model Chrissy Teigen, wearing Georges Hobeika.

The colour is very pretty on her, but was this dress rescued from the shredder? Chrissy always goes for the Imminent Minge Moment, and this year she has lowered the ante by throwing in a lot of tit to go with it. The whole thing is reminiscent of skein of unravelling wool.

Norwegian singer Aurora wearing Her by Viktoria Aksnes.

WTF does not even know what this is supposed to be, but there is a flapper hat and a pistachio taekwondo uniform complete with femur fringe. Whatever it is, it is very silly.

Moschino designer Jeremy Scott, wearing himself.

Jeremy! How old are you? Just. Go. Away.

Presenter Heidi Klum wearing Jean Paul Gaultier. 

Heidi is lucky that Donald Trump’s hideous,  game hunting offspring, Don Jr and Eric, were not present or they would have shot her on sight. Unless they had got distracted by the side boob. Which, to be fair, is pretty distracting….

Singer Usher, wearing Balmain.

He is smiling, but everyone else, alas, is laughing their heads off. This is the lovechild of the Turin Shroud and a giant nappy. How does he do a wee-wee?

Celebritee Blac Chyna wearing Dona Matoshi.

Those tits are deeply improbable. The dress needs more material and/or less Blac Chyna, as well as an absence of tattooed thigh. And what’s with the comic epaulettes like a Ruritanian General?

Finally, the Oscar for the Worst Dressed of the Night goes to…….actress and Saturday Night Live comic  Kristen Wiig, wearing Valentino.

WTF thought of a lobster’s arse when she first saw this, but top marks to WTF aficionado Juman from Canonbury, who  came up with the more likely inspiration for this silliness.

This week’s It’s Got To Go is from WTF aficionado Hannah from Brixton, who has it in for actress Nathalie Portman. Nathalie turned up at the Oscars in an ensemble embroidered with the names of female actors and directors who had been omitted from the shortlists. Sisterly solidarity, right?

Wrong, says Hannah. Nathalie owns a production company, but she has never actually appointed a female director to direct anything. As a result, she has been well and truly ridiculed by her female colleagues. Walking the Red Carpet is all well and good, Nathalie, but talking the talk is what really counts. 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