Boris Johnson still hangs on while the Nation, split equally between outrage and boredom, waits for the publication of the Sue Gray report on Downing Street shenanigans. Which gives us the opportunity to consider one of his main rivals for his job, namely Foreign Secretary Liz Truss. To the amazement of nearly everybody, Truss has risen without trace despite having the personality of a pot plant on barbiturates and a deeply irritating, monotone delivery; she could be announcing the UK’s intention to invade Russia and make it sound as if she were talking about a bacon butty. Although she has none of the character, the strength, the charisma or the convictions of Margaret Thatcher, if you like that sort of thing, which WTF does not, Truss has gone all Iron Lady and has deepened her voice in an attempt to persuade people that she is the embodiment of leadership. Any deeper and she will sound like the late Barry White. However, regardless of the pitch with which she delivers whatever it is that she is supposed to be delivering, the overwhelming impression is that she has no idea what she is talking about. This week she got extremely muddled about the difference between an incursion and an invasion and was blown out of the water on LBC as if Putin have aimed his firepower at a NATO ship.
This insipid woman, who used to be a fervent Remainer until she realised that things were going in the opposite direction, has taken to Ministerial life like a duck to water. Money is clearly no object to her. The problem is that it is not her money that she is spending but ours. As Trade Secretary, she insisted on hosting an expensive lunch for the US trade representative at posh private club 5 Hertford St in Mayfair despite objections from her civil servants and cheaper venues elsewhere. The club, coincidentally owned by a Tory donor to Johnson’s leadership campaign, agreed to reduce the bill to £1,400 on condition of immediate payment, leaving civil servants to invoke an emergency process to pay up straight away. But the Truss, as she wants to be known, was only warming up. This week she flew to Australia and back using the Government plane, rather than slumming it in First Class on Qantas or BA, a jaunt costing £500,000 which also burned an estimated 150 tonnes of fuel and generated nearly 500 tonnes of CO 2. (And by the way why did she go at all, given the situation in Ukraine?) The plane sat on the tarmac in Sydney for two days and then flew Truss to Adelaide, where she made a speech, and then back home, refuelling in Kuala Lumpur and Dubai. The Truss explained that ‘we have a government plane specifically so ministers like me in my role as Foreign Secretary can go and do the work overseas which is ultimately delivering for the British people’. To which the only reasonable response is Bollocks. It is however surprising that WTF is surprised. We have already seen that this lot’s whole political philosophy is ‘let them eat cake’. It would not occur to Truss that spending half a million pounds on a private flight to Australia in the same week it was announced that job seekers’ allowance would be stopped after a month, and while fuel prices soar, would be a bad look, anymore that it would have occurred to Pensions Secretary Therese Coffey that maybe she should not be belting out I Will Survive at the Tory Conference knees-up in October, the same week as Universal Credit was cut by £20. They just don’t get it, do they?
We start our review of the week’s sartorial shockers with actor Lily James at the premiere of her new TV series Pam & Tommy, in which she plays Baywatch babe Pamela Anderson. Lily is wearing Versace.
The Sugar Plum Fairy does bondage. And buckets of fake tan, which has gone blotchy around the instep. Doesn’t she look thrilled? (Answer -no). As for that coat, it is entirely pointless like tits on a fish.
Lottie seems to have no purpose in her life other to parade in front of prearranged paparazzi wearing decreasingly smaller outfits- not that they are outfits – and now her ‘career’ has been re-invented to pose for girly pics on the Only Clients website wearing either nothing or next to nothing. This appears to be a sparkling fisherman’s net over a thong. You would not see Captain Birdseye with one of these.
To Paris Fashion Week where we encounter rapper Tyler the Creator wearing Louis Vuitton.
Tyler is 30 years old but looks like a little kid dressing up as a Victorian train guard. Although WTF confesses to a sneaking regard for the bag. And the nail varnish.
Next up we have actor Laverne Cox wearing Schiaparelli. Laverne is taking over the Red Carpet interview gig on E! as well as her acting career.
Love the coat and bag but as regular readers will know, WTF hates a transparent trouser almost above all things, especially this one because she is worried about what lies – or does not lie – beneath. What happens when she removes her coat? It doesn’t bear – or should that be bare – thinking about. In other news, what the fuck has she got on her head? It looks like one of those Alessi ever-so-stylish crenellated plates.
More Schiaparelli, this time on fashionista Chiara Ferragni.
Schiaparelli has gone very big on crenellations this season and in particular, crenellated titties. These ones are like a couple of iced donuts (but without the sprinkles) sitting on Ciara’s chest. WTF is also puzzled by what appears to be a belly-button indentation in the enormous Obi belt.
These tits are not so much donut-like as conical, as once sported by Madonna umpteen years ago, resembling rocket heads on a particularly deadly missile. As for the eyeliner, it is as if Cleopatra got pissed and lost focus – and proportion.
And finally, we have model and influencer Draya Michele wearing who even knows what this is?
Those faux nipples are, to quote WTF’s late brother, like the wheel nuts on a Scammell truck. Only these ones are adrift in the middle of a kaleidoscope.
This week’s It’s Got To Go comes from WTF aficionado WTF who is too furious about Tory MP Jonathan Gullis to allow anyone else to advance their own suggestion. If anything defines the expression ‘pure gammon’ it is this bearded oaf, the MP for Stoke -on-Trent North.
First there was Gullis’s ferocious, not to say, manic roaring in support of the PM at this week’s Prime Minister’s Question Time with a degree of venom that made the Shed at Chelsea FC look like a creche. Second, the ghastly Gammon was defiantly unmasked, despite the request of the Speaker to wear them in the Chamber. Gammon, who is 32, was a teacher before his surprise election and proudly relates that he was known as Mr Grumpy. God help any pupil who handed in homework late. He’s Got To Go.
OK Readers, that’s your lot for this week. Keep sending in your comments to stop WTF going into a panic and in panic is not where she wants to be. How heartless are you? And don’t forget your splendid suggestions for It’s Got To Go. Let us meet again next Friday. Be good. x