wtffashionshark

Hallo Readers,

We have had a year of Covid and Trump and Black Lives Matter, and so the small matter of Britain’s collective suicide pact known as Brexit faded into the background. But January fast approaches, Brexit has heaved itself back into the foreground and, as if 2020 never happened, we are plunged again into the shit-show that is promises, bluster, and abject failure, not to mention the torture of listening to idiot Tory backbenchers hoping for a no-deal Brexit as if that had been their plan all along. And indeed, it has all been going on for so long that many may have forgotten that at the start of this fiasco  in 2015/2016, we were assured that the EU would be falling over themselves to get a deal and would rain gold into our laps. And it is true that the EU is falling over themselves – sadly, however, with laughing and not with Lamborghinis.

In the course of last-gasp negotiations, Johnson has been warning us to be ready for an Australian-style deal. Indeed, in the course of talks, we have been promised a deal named after all manner of countries. An Australian deal is not actually a deal at all, but a sort of gentleman’s agreement with access to trade. The problem about a gentleman’s agreement is that it will not work unless it is between gentlemen or gentlepersons.  Johnson is many things, but he is no gentlemen and his word is not his bond, more of a bouncing cheque…. Ursula von Der Leyen is not fool enough to trust him a centimetre. Would you? 

As it happens,  Mongolia and Afghanistan have more favourable deals with the EU than Australia does. If you do not fancy an Australian-style deal, and want less flying, there is the Canadian-style deal which gives you some access to EU markets with less regulation by EU bigwigs. Or you can go Norwegian, which means much more access to EU markets but more regulation. It is a veritable World tour of options, none of which appear to be available to us because we are forbidden to travel there. And of course, there is a substantial difference between Norway and the UK, because Norway twice rejected the chance to join the EU. Meanwhile Australia, Canada, Afghanistan, and Mongolia (i) are not European and (ii) are very far away. None of them ever had a previous deal which gave them access and free passage and stuff, but from which they walked away.  Last year Johnson assured us that we had ‘an oven-ready deal’. It seems that the oven ready deal turned out to be raw chicken, the national dish of La La Land. And you know what happens to you when you eat raw chicken….

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We start our survey of the week’s sartorial slops with the aforesaid Boris Johnson.

Our Prime Minister, Readers. This shambling, unkempt, badly-dressed, mop-headed pillock is our Prime Minister. Don’t it make you feel proud? (Answer – no). The suit jacket does not fit, with the single button hanging on for dear life, like a mountaineer clinging to the cliff-edge hundreds of metres above terra firma, while the trousers look like crumpled jodhpurs. If General Patton had sex with a dosser, this is what their offspring would look like.

On to the world of entertainment, where we find singer Kylie on the Jonathan Ross show, wearing something knocked up by her design team.

Kylie. God bless her! 52 and still a ball of energy. However, her design team deserves a slap, a P45 and another slap. The latticework resembles a flamingo fence, but the most puzzling thing is the silhouette on the stomach, perhaps simply a shadow, but eerily reminiscent of the Man in Black from Westworld.

Here’s another one WTF finds really annoying  – actress Priyanka Chopra, wearing Emilia Wickstead. AND CROCS.

Priyanka, who redefines the word ‘smug’, enjoys the exalted title of Crocs Ambassador. What in the name of all that is holy is a Crocs Ambassador? Is she called in for in-depth discussions with Ministers of Footwear across the globe? Be that as may be, Crocs are hideous at the best of times and are even worse when paired with this lacy nonsense showing too much tit. If Betsey Trotwood went to a fancy dress party as a black cloud, this is what she would look like.

Next up, we have rapper Cardi B at home and wearing not a lot. As per usual.

Cardi put this up on Instagram. There is another one of her rear view displaying a large quantity of tattooed arse. You have been spared, but WTF is more familiar with Cardi B’s arse than with her own. That dress is like the stocking bank robbers put over their heads while carrying out nefarious activities. And WTF hates a peeptoe boot almost above all things….

To Paris  where we encounter French model (and former Miss France, or should that be Mlle. France?) Maëva Coucke at the NRJ Awards, wearing Jean Paul Gauthier. 

How do those ribbons stay up on the air? It’s like those charming ladies who do rhythmic gymnastics…..

Next we go to the Movie and TV Awards in LA. Here is actress Lily Collins wearing St Laurent.

WTF has never been a fan of Lily, who always sports a rather gormless expression, but she really dislikes this St Laurent leather dress, which makes Lily look like a very shiny black beetle. And no one likes a shiny black beetle.

This is actress and Disney Channel presenter Sabrina Carpenter wearing Ralph and Russo.

Sheer. One shoulder. Yawn. Next…..

Here is actress Sofia Carson, wearing Giambattista Valli.

We have had a load of skirts recently shaped like loo brushes and carwash brushes, but this one looks more like those rotisseries in Turkish eateries serving chicken shawarma.

Finally, a newcomer (where has she been?) Instagram ‘Influencer’ Sabrina Parr wearing sew.n.2.me (really) and her fiancé, Basketball player Lamar Odom.

If only someone could influence Sabrina to wear a whole dress. This is a length of cloth draped randomly across her person, leaving horrified onlookers in fear of an imminent Minge Moment. It is as if she were peeking out from behind a funereal curtain.