You may recall that in September 2015, just after David Cameron was elected as Prime Minister for the second time, someone published a trashy book alleging that, as a student at Oxford, he had poked a pig’s head as part of an initiation ceremony into some posh boys’ food-throwing booze-fest. The story was probably untrue, based as it was on second or third hand hearsay, but it served to distract us from the horrors of austerity and UKIP. Less than a year later, following the debacle of the Brexit referendum caused by Cameron’s hubris and folly, he had sidled out of the door of Downing Street into relative obscurity, to the great disappointment of nobody. But if you thought that he was just writing his dreary memoirs, you would have thought wrong. Cameron may not have poked the pig, but his snout was deep in the trough. He went to work for Greensill, a company owned by an Australian called Lex (né Alexander) Greensill, which specialised in supply-chain finance (also known as reverse-factoring). When he was still in no 10, Lex Greensill apparently had cards showing him as a Special Adviser to no 10. In 2016, Cameron became an adviser to Greensill with share options worth ££££££. Of course, Cameron was not there for his business expertise, but for his address book. When Greensill began to fail, Cameron started earning those share options. A text to Rishi Sunak (who replied that he was ‘pushing’ his team to make things happen). Phone calls to other Treasury Ministers. An ‘informal’ drink with Matt Hancock, with Lex Greensill present. Had the company flourished, Cameron could have been looking at millions of pounds in stock. Sadly (for him, not to mention the company’s creditors), it collapsed and the only people who will get anything out of it are M’Learned Friends, who are currently dancing round Lincoln’s Inn Fields in high excitement and laying in the champers.
It stinks. Indeed, the stench is worse than a roomful of farting ferrets. Cameron tried to ride it out, failed, and this week issued a statement to the effect that he had done nothing wrong, but accepted his communications with ministers should have been ‘done through only the most formal of channels, so there can be no room for misinterpretation’. And now there is to be an enquiry into the matter led by – wait for it – a senior partner of a magic circle law firm which has acted in opposition to tightening the laws against lobbying, which were promised by, but not enacted by, a certain David Cameron.
The stench of entitlement lingers around Tory politicians and it keeps on lingering. Do not forget that on leaving office in 2016, Chancellor George Osborne walked into a one-day-a-week job at Blackstone for a measly £650,000 a year; Blackstone, which just happened to own large parts of Uber, which the Tory Government waved through as a taxi rival to black cabs. Only recently, we have had Johnson and the money which found its way into the bank account of his ‘technology tutor’ Jennifer Arcuri when he was Mayor of London and just happened to be sleeping with her at the time; Robert Jenrick, who waived through planning permission for Lord Desmond, whom he just happened to have sat next to at a charity dinner; the contracts for PPE which just happened to be awarded to all manner of people known to Ministers and their advisers and civil servants; and appointments for jobs which were never advertised but just happened to be given to wives of Ministerial mates. Only this morning we learn that Matt Hancock’s sister’s company, a specialist in paper shredding, gets NHS contracts and he has been given shares in it. Nobody ever says sorry, or puts their hand up to having done wrong. Never mind wearing a face mask – with this lot, you need a nose peg.
We start our review of the week’s sartorial shockers with Love Island Celebritee Jess Gale wearing something frightful.
Jess has a twin who is also all hair, tits and teeth, but WTF took the view that one of them was more than enough, not least where Jess’s twins are bursting out in a surfeit of under-boob, barely restrained by a strap like an Elastoplast. Meanwhile that fake tan is giving The Former Guy a run for his money……
And here is another celebritee, only this one is a billionaire – Kim Kardashian, wearing who knows what.
GI Jane meets Pussy in Boots. Just. Go Away.
Next up, we have actress Maisie Williams wearing H&M, for whom she is the new Global Sustainability Ambassador.
If Arya Stark came across anyone wearing this excrescence, she would probably take her trusty Needle Sword and swipe the straps off the over-bra, which appears to have been sustainably, but unfathomably, recycled from an old macrame pot holder.
Regular Readers will know that these two get right up WTF’s nose, as they have made smugness into an art form. He has managed to find an Armani suit which simultaneously is too big on the shoulders and too short in the leg, while she is wearing a jacket with not so much as a tit window as a gaping gateway, paired with ridiculous harem trousers. As for the black pop sox under white trewsies, the last time WTF saw something similar, it was on the late Princess Diana.
Also there was actress Cynthia Erivo, wearing Louis Vuitton.
WTF is unsure what is worse, the sparkly talons or the heavy armour-like top, putting one in mind of Brienne of Tarth. (Both Brianne and Arya in one post – blimey).
Actress Janelle Monae is posing by the pool somewhere in Mexico, wearing PatBo.
She is lovely, but the dress has two major flaws. First, it is sheer, and we are all bored by sheer. Second, and more importantly, it has shell-tits, like My Little Mermaid.
This is actor Darren Criss at the Costume Designers Guild Awards, wearing Balmain.
Meet Joseph and his Amazing Technicolour Nightmarecoat. Darren looks as if someone has thrown up over him, having first consumed several cartons of M&Ms.
Finally, the presenter on the night. actress Lana Condor, wearing Prabal Gurung.
Prabal Gurung is taking the piss. This seems to have been inspired by a malignant burgundy bird nesting on a parcel of silk in Liberty’s fabric department, and what the trousers have to do with the piece of fish, WTF cannot say.
This week’s It’s Got to Go comes from WTF aficionado Susie from Greenwich, who is sick to the back teeth of being made to feel like a war criminal simply because she wants to drive her car around London. On Wednesday it took Susie TWO HOURS to drive from Greenwich to Islington (for lunch with WTF’s garden as it happens), a journey of eleven miles. And another two hours back again. Roads that used to be open have now are not and Susie notes that ‘Thirty years of cut-through knowledge have been cut off by bloody planters at every turn’, and adds ruefully that she was forced to ‘do more U-turns than Gavin bloody Williamson’. And have you tried driving along the Euston Road these days with cycle lanes taking up more room than car lanes? You could hop backwards quicker. It’s Got to Go.
OK Readers, that’s your lot for this week. Let us meet again next Friday. And keep those splendid suggestions coming in for It’s Got To Go, not to mention your comments. Be good x.