In a notable example of rearranging the deckchairs on the Titanic, Boris Johnson has reshuffled his Cabinet to make it look as if he is DOING SOMETHING. As this appears to consist of moving Dud A from Job 1 to Job 2 and vice versa, it is unlikely that there will be any marked improvement in the standard of government. The biggest dud, Jacob Rees-Mogg, has however been given a newly created role. Moggy is a languid toff with a preposterous accent, whom some had thought clever because of his use of Latin phrases and other such. In fact, close examination of his aperçus will show that he is a fool with a talent for making money and marrying up but without either common sense or an understanding of ordinary people going around their business. His appointment as Minister of Brexit Opportunities came as a surprise to a Nation told repeatedly in 2016 and since (by him and others) that milk and honey would rain down upon us all once we had shaken off the European yoke. However, one year after our final separation, (not that we have separated at all, as events in Northern Ireland remind us on a daily basis), it is difficult to discern anything that could count as an improvement, except perhaps the fact that women no longer pay VAT on tampons. Clearly Moggy, despite his enthusiastic advocacy in favour of leaving the EU, is a bit short of ideas as to to how to bring these Brexit Opportunities to light, so much so that only days into the job, he penned an article in The Sun asking its readers for ideas as to how life in the sunlit uplands of freedom could be improved. WTF is suspicious of policy by plebiscite, not least when those polled are limited to dim readers of one of the most dishonest publications in the history of ever.
It is worth noting that Moggy got all his Brexit predictions wrong and despite urging us to Vote Leave, he later admitted that it would take 50 years for the benefits to become evident. To those of us who will not be around in 50 years, this was hardly a comfort, even with the consolation of knowing that Moggy will not be around either. Meanwhile, it is of course completely irrelevant that Moggy moved his own money-making operation out of the UK and over to the Republic of Ireland in order to ensure that money continues to be made for him and his lot while the rest of us will either die or get older waiting in vain for a sniff of the Opportunities that he is tasked with producing.
As another example of falling upwards, Chief Whip Mark Spencer, whose name is mud with backbenchers as a result of forcing them to vote to exonerate Owen Patersons’s iffiacious conduct, only for the Government to reverse its policy within 12 hours, has got Moggy’s job as Leader of the House while his deputy, who presumably was equally culpable, has got Spencer’s job. With this merry-go-round of failure, it is only surprising that Chris Grayling was not brought back as Secretary of State for Something to add the final touch of farce to this bunch of total tossers. And let us not even start on Nadine Dorries, the UK’s answer to Majorie Taylor Greene – not this week, anyway….
We start our review of the week’s sartorial stupidity at the Brits, the first proper Red Carpet of the year. First up is Olympic diver Tom Daley wearing Louis Vuitton.
He is wearing a jerkin like Olly in Game of Thrones and something really ridiculous is occurring around the ankles – are the trewsies tucked into those embarrassingly logo-ed boots? All of that said, WTF’s particular disapprobation is reserved for the silly little handbag.
Next we encounter singer Meeks wearing who can even say what?
Checkerboard jeans, braces and facial bandages WITH SUNGLASSES like Clause Rains in The Invisible Man. And he was better dressed. Just. Go. Away.
Here is presenter Maya Jama wearing Mônot.
Maya is very pretty with a great body, but this is Wilma Flintstone couture which also puts appalled onlookers in fear of an imminent Minge Moment.
This is singer and radio presenter Ashley Roberts, also wearing Mônot.
Mônot is taking the piss, putting women into Minge Moment dresses and flashing too much flesh. This one makes Ashley look like a trussed turkey.
He’s back. WTF speaks of singer Ed Sheeran, wearing Etro.
In the old days, there used to be a TV ad for a bleach called Domestos, claiming that it killed 99.9% of all known germs. Ed kills 99.9% of all known clothes. It would help if he picked something several sizes up so that the jacket did not strain and pucker across his stomach and the trousers were not quite so snug over the goolies. WTF is sorry to say that the shirt does not appear to be fresh on and the whole effect puts her in mind of Little Lord Fauntleroy whose clothes have shrunk after the inattention of the scullery maid.
Finally from the Brits, here is splendid actor Vicki McClure wearing Azzi & Osta. Brace yourselves.
WTF loves Vicki but not in that bodice thing which (a) is puce, and puce is the worst colour in the whole world on everybody and (b) seems to be the lovechild of a Victorian lampshade and a punk tutu. And as if that were not bad enough, and IT SO IS, Vicki’s tits are too big for those tiny little coffee cups and there is a perceptible danger of major slippage.
Finally, we leave the Brits and find ourselves in Tribeca, NYC where we find two critical fashion victims, namely actor Ansel Elgort and racing driver Sir Lewis Hamilton. Lewis wearing Gucci. No one has owned up to designing Ansel’s top, for reasons that are self-evident. I mean, would you?
What is completely astonishing is that Hamilton is not the worst dressed of the two, which is against the natural order of things, like Boris Johnson telling the truth while the Pope tells porkies. What the hell Ansel is wearing WTF cannot say, but whoever is responsible for this outrage against eyeballs (a) is having a laugh, bigly and (b) has spent too much time watching Will Ferrell in Elf. It is only February and we could already be seeing the winner of the 2022 Summer Stinker,.
This week’s It’s Got To Go comes from WTF aficionado Rona from Dalston who cannot stand any more of Boris Johnson’s nipples. And she is not wrong.
Rona says ‘Obviously Boris Johnson has got to go but I hope he takes with him his collection of slightly off white (possibly cream, ewww), poly-cotton shirts which always look as if they need a good wash and are too tight on him (no one wants to see the outline of the Prime Minister’s nipples). And while he’s at it, can he also please desist from tucking his tie in, which is something creepy, older, male teachers from my vintage used to do (ghastly), and rolling the sleeves up when he visits hospitals (those poor, poor healthcare professionals) – it’s all horrible, horrible, horrible”. Agreed. It’s Got To Go‘.
OK Readers, that’s your lot for this week. Keep sending in your comments to stop WTF fretting. And don’t forget your splendid suggestions for It’s Got To Go. Let us meet again next Friday. Be good. x