wtffashionshark

Hallo Readers,

When Richard the Lionheart took part in the Third Crusade, it is probable that he would have been muddy, dirty and dishevelled; in short, not at his most dapper and photogenic. Not of course that they had cameras in 1190 when he set forth to the Holy Land. Nevertheless, WTF feels confident in asserting that had there been cameras capturing the King in pursuit of his enemies, he might not have been concerned about his appearance.  Richard knew exactly why he was up to his elbows in blood and guts. He believed that he was fighting a war against the Infidel in the name of Christ and the Holy Church.

Modern-day Crusader and servant of Christ, Pete Hegseth, also believes that he is in a war against the Infidel in the name of Christ and the Holy Church (he calls it a war and he should know, as he is the Secretary of War – Congress however maintains that it is just an operation).  Hegesth found Jesus and was Saved round about the time that he was impregnating the woman who is now the third Mrs H while still married to the second Mrs H (who was also married to someone else), and, according to him, shagging another woman who subsequently accused him of rape and was paid $50,000 – without admission of liability of course – to go away and keep quiet. Every day, Hegseth appears in the Press Briefing room in the same tight, bright blue suit, with the same stars and stripes belt buckle and matching pocket handkerchief, his hair gelled and tweaked to within an inch of its life; one of his first acts upon assuming office was to build a make-up room adjacent to the Press Briefing room to receive just the right amount of pan-stick to look like the Crusader he is – indeed, he has two large crosses tattooed on his torso. And such is the vanity of this ridiculous little man that his officials announced this week that photographers would henceforth be banned from the Press Briefings after publication of photos which they deemed to be ‘unflattering’. For someone who has spent the past 18 months gibbering on about the warrior ethos and the end of woke, this seems somewhat precious; and  insofar as the offending photos made him look like a raving lunatic, all popping eyes, snarls and jazz hands, that is because he is one; drooling with psychopathic pleasure as he describes the ‘lethality’ of the attacks upon military targets, unarmed ships and civilian targets alike in Iran. This week, he said that the only thing people should be worried about ‘are Iranians who think that they are going to live’. He revels in the violence and death he is inflicting on people whose religion makes them unworthy of any consideration. Meanwhile, hundreds of troops have complained that their commanders have told them the attacks on Iran ‘have been anointed by Jesus’ and that they will ‘bring about Armageddon and His return’. It is perfectly obvious whence that sentiment originated. So much for the separation of Church and State and the First Amendment.

Meanwhile, two weeks into-the-war-or-is-it-a-war, no one is any the wiser about why it is being fought, or how and when it will end. According to the Rancid Kumquat, it has already been won, but it is also just beginning; when asked which one was true, he replied ‘Both’. He also said that he would decide when it was over, although the criteria for making this decision were left unspecified. With every day that passes, it is clear that there is no strategy, that there was no planning and that no one has the faintest idea what to do next. In particular, it seems to have come as a great surprise that Iran would not keep the Strait of Hormuz open to shipping. The Rancid Kumquat, watching the price of oil skyrocket as a result of his ineptitude and hubris, has taken to berating the crews of oil tankers for their reluctance to steer their ships through the Strait for fear of being blown up and perishing in the toxic flames as their cargoes burn out of control. The President, who dodged the draft with a diagnosis of bone spurs purchased from one of his father’s tenants, is bravely directing operations from his golf cart at Mar-a-Lago; and if that is not courage, WTF does not know what is. Soldiers and civilians across the Middle East continue to die – and for what?

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Our review of the week’s fashion faux pas comes from Paris Fashion Week with new heartthrob, actor Connor Storrie from Heated Rivalry, wearing St Laurent. Scroll down slowly….

It was all going so well until you get past the perfectly nice suit to those stupid top boots, which we have also seen on others looking equally stupid. They look particularly stupid when worn with a suit jacket which keeps lapping the rim. Kudos to WTF aficionado Imogen from North London, who immediately spotted the similarity to the Patrick Starr boots meme. By the way, what is that in Connor’s hand? Is it a packet of condoms or what?

Here is Michael Jackson’s daughter, Paris Jackson, who describes herself as an actress, model and singer. Hands up anyone who has seen her Ophelia or Lady Macbeth? Or who has bought one of her albums? Anyone? Last call…. No, I thought not. Anyway, she is wearing Vivienne Westwood.

The words ‘fashion victim’ have insufficient nuance. This seems to have been constructed from a bundle of offcuts that you can buy on Etsy or in John Lewis. There is a catsuit and a floaty blouse with a built-in cloak and Patrick Starr’s boots, only embellished. Meanwhile, try as she may, WTF is at a loss to know what that olive green thing is over her arm.Is it a handbag? Is it a leather jacket she brought with her to ward off the chill? #baffled

Meet US lady rugby player, Ilona Maher, wearing Stella McCartney.

Stella does it again, using old Laura Ashley curtain fabric to create a cropped kagoule and a pair of trackie bottoms resembling sausages with a frill at the end of them. Worn, inexplicably, with follow-me-home-and-fuck-me mules.

Yes, it’s him again. Another nepo-baby, Jaden Smith, (son of Will Smith and the ghastly Jada Plunkett Smith), wearing Louis Vuitton and carrying a vintage LV dolls’ house handbag. He carried it with him three years ago while wearing a black and white checquered suit, like bathroom tiling.

The jacket is fine and WTF does not even mind the voluminous trousers, save for the droopy thing serving as a testicular triangle. But a grown man carrying a dolls’ house handbag? It reeks of Brideshead Revisited and Lord Sebastian Flyte carrying his teddy, Aloyius, everywhere he went.

Back after a long absence, we greet socialite and mega-fashionista-de-luxe, Daphne Guinness, still wearing those truly horrible hooves she has been trotting about in for more than a decade.

Has anyone ever seen Daphne and John Malkovitch in the same room? The similarity is uncanny. …..

This is singer and current sensation Chappell Roan, wearing Alexander McQueen.

WTF cannot even be bothered to rail about the sheer – it would be like trying to derail an express train with a broomstick. But what is that minge cover? It brings back very unpleasant memories of the year 2014, when TOWIE stars Harry Derbridge (left) and Bobby Norris (right)  horrified the whole world with their cock socks.

And finally, we have actor Dominic Sessa (The Holdovers), wearing St Laurent.

That shine is unfortunate, to say the least. It gives the effect of a penile X-ray. And no, you are NOT getting a picture….

This week’s It’s Got to Go comes from WTF aficionado Martyn from Isleworth, who was appalled, and rightly so, by the Rancid Kumquat’s appearance and demeanour at the Dignified Return of six dead US soldiers to Dover Airbase last Saturday. The Rancid Kumquat eschewed a black suit, or even a black tie, and wore his usual garb, namely a shapeless and ill-fitting blue suit and a red tie. Worse still, he sported a white baseball cap embroidered in gaudy gold with the letters USA, available on the Trump website for $59. Nor did he remove the cap when the bodies were trundled past him, presumably for fear that his abundant locks would take flight when subjected to the blasts of air emitting from the engines purring on Air Force One.

That the Rancid Kumquat is an oaf came as a surprise to no-one, but Martyn, together with millions of others, was horrified. And horrified some more when the Commander-in-Chief showed more interest in what was down his suit jacket (probably half an uneaten burger and some fries) than the corpses of the men and women who had died in his stupid war. Mind you, what chance did he have of getting any sage sartorial advice when his Chief of Staff, Susie Wiles, decided to show up in a white coat and mirrored sunglasses? They are all frightful. It’s Got to Go.

OK Readers, that’s your lot for this week. Keep sending in comments and your suggestions for It’s Got to Go. Let us meet again next Friday. Be good x