We should never forget the old adage that it is an ill wind which blows nobody any good. There are many who believe that Donald Trump was sent by God unto us to Make America Great Again. And now it seems that God sent Covid 19 unto Donald Trump, and not because he is a reckless moron who never wore a mask, held functions, parties and rallies, and did everything save walk around with a sign around his neck reading ‘Covid! Come and Get Me’. No. He sent it unto Trump as a blessing. Although Trump had to be helicoptered to hospital and pumped full of steroids and drugs various, he got better in 72 hours. And not only did he get better in 72 hours, but he himself asked for the new wonder-drug which hitherto had never been tested on anyone other than a couple of lab rats. And now he is fitter than ever! Never mind artisans carving his face on Mount Rushmore, he could abseil it without crampons and carve it himself. He alighted from his helicopter back from Walter Reed and climbed the outside staircase at the White House to the Truman Balcony, where he ripped off his mask in a display on manliness last seen when Vladimir Putin rode his horse bareback in the Urals. There he stood, bestriding the petty world like a colossus, his newly-made-up orange complexion set defiant to the world. Sadly, the effect was slightly spoilt by the two minor matters that he could barely breathe and that the mask had taken off some of the macquillage around his cheeks, but that would be to carp. Our hero, still maskless, then walked into the White House, where he recorded a video in which he assured his fellow Americans that they should not let Covid dominate their lives. Alas, this advice came too late for the 212,000 fellow Americans who have died since March, and who continue to die at the rate of about 1,000 a day. In another video recorded the next day in the Rose Garden, that Petri dish of infection which has taken out half his staff, he told us that he felt great, that the new drug, whose name he got wrong, was not a ‘therapeutic’ but a ‘cure’ and that he, Trump, would ensure that everyone got it for free. Not that it is actually licensed yet.
Of course, the medical term for this is ‘bollocks’. As we do not know when he first started to display symptoms, or when he last tested negative, we do not know how far through his illness he actually is. We more than suspect that the reason he will not disclose when he last tested negative, was because he probably ignored the first positive test and went on doing rallies and the Debate with Joe Biden, and lied about it. We do not know whether this steroid-induced high will then wear off, only for him to crash again. But he is back in the Oval Office and raring to hit the campaign trail. We do know that he is still shedding the virus, putting at risk those of his staff, donors and supporters who have so far avoided catching it from him and his acolytes. And we do know that this vile sociopath does not give a damn who gets ill because of him and his super-spreader events. And anyway, if they do get ill, he will cure them with the new miracle cure he prescribed himself, the name of which he does not actually know. Because it is an ill wind that blows nobody any good. Even though it is blowing out of Trump’s arse.
We start our review of the week’s awful apparel with singer Katy Perry, who is back at work as a judge on American Idol after giving birth to her first child. She is wearing Christian Siriano.
There is a lot going on here, and all of it bovine. A stupid hat. Puff sleeves. A cape. Trousers and matching shoes. Katy is not a cow and she should not dress as one.
Next up, we have model Abbey Clancy out and about in Knightsbridge, wearing Filles a Papa and a sheepskin coat.
Look, Abbey. We know you have a fabulous figure and that you are a mother of four, but either walk around stark naked or wear proper clothes. At the very least, buy a bloody bra. Oh, and that coat makes you like Del Boy in Only Fools and Horses.
Here’s Rita Ora! She posed on Instagram wearing David Koma.
Be-jewelled leather shorts are just silly and those pointed tits are very Amazonian.
Nazanin is wearing a bra with a wisp of voile over it. A wisp of voile is not a top. Not even at all. Her spouse is doing that no-shirt thing, which WTF hates almost above all things, and his outfit looks as if it was stitched together from left-over scraps of fabric by girl guides making a patchwork quilt for charity.
Also at the Fenty event was heiress and DJ Paris Hilton, wearing Walter Collection.
And here is a third attendee in silly clothes, Spanish singer Rosalía wearing Sevali Haute Couture. It looks like Louis Vuitton. But it isn’t.
If a fish-gutter went to a fancy-dress party as a packhorse, this is what he would look like.
And he’s back again! Of course he is. This is racing champion Lewis Hamilton arriving at the F1 Grand Prix of Tuscany at Mugello Circuit a few weeks ago, wearing MSGM.
First, no grown man should be scooting about on a scooter. Second, this may be a hyper-cool label MSGM, but the outfit was last seen on a retired dentist in Fort Lauderdale. AND WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT HAT? As WTF aficionado Ruth suggested, it must have been inspired by Kevin and Perry Go Large In Ibiza……
This week’s It’s Got To Go comes from WTF aficionados Tony from Chislehurst and Dan from Stevenage, who are outraged by Arsenal’s cruel treatment of their mascot Gunnersaurus, or rather Jerry Quy, who has worn the costume for 23 years, but has just been given the heave-ho.
Arsenal say that Gunnersaurus is redundant as there is no one for him to entertain and no kiddies for him to lead out onto the pitch for their pre-match kickabout. Tony and Dan point out that the club is awash with money. Dan adds that Jerry probably earns about £25K a year and the redundancy was announced on the same day as the club signed a new player for £45 million. Now Mesut Ozil, who is on £400K a week, (but is not actually playing as he has pissed off the manager, or his teammates, or both) has said that he will personally pay Jerry’s wages. That is as may be, but it still shows Arsenal in a very bad light. Greedy bastards. It’s Got To Go.
OK Readers, that’s your lot for this week. Do not forget your excellent suggestions for It’s Got To Go. Let us meet again next Friday. Be good, be careful, and keep washing your hands! x