wtffashionshark

Hallo Readers, 

It is never the actual thing that someone did wrong that does for them; it is the thing they did wrong in covering up the actual thing that they did wrong, or at least, deflecting the blame for what they did wrong onto someone else. It was obviously a terrible idea for Kockup Keir to appoint Peter Mandelson as our Ambassador to the United States. First, because Mandelson was known to have been a close pal of paedophile Jeffrey Epstein, not to mention a first-class schnorrer who was willing to overlook almost anything for a few free plane rides and the occasional handout. Second, because Mandelson had a very chequered history in public life, twice sacked from high-ranking Government roles and has always kept dodgy company. Third, because Kockup Keir had to appoint him as a thank you for getting him elected and because he was a close friend of  Morgan McSweeney, Starmer’s former Chief of Staff at Downing Street. And fourth, because he was shipping in Mandelson as he wanted someone iffy to deal with the Rancid Kumquat because the Rancid Kumquat is also iffy, and he hoped the two might take to each other; an explanation which, of course, he has not felt able to give publicly.

When Mandelson’s close friendship with Epstein was laid bare last September, he was sacked. And that was destined to be just one more shit-stain on Kockup Keir’s record until last week, when it emerged that extreme doubts had been voiced about Mandelson’s suitability during his security vetting, but he had been confirmed anyway. At which point, it all went off and a posse of slavering dogs, led by Kemi Badenoch, Nigel Farage and the Daily Mail, were unleashed upon us all. Starmer must have lied! He misled the house! He must have known Mandelson had failed the vetting! He was a hypocrite, having  lectured Boris Johnson about a bit of birthday cake and the odd glass of Tesco’s Finest Prosecco during Covid! Resign! Except it turned out Starmer had not known about the vetting. Sir Olly Robbins, the now former Head of the Foreign Office, is a figure straight from Central Casting for Whitehall Mandarins, a pale-faced, slightly pudgy, Kenneth Branagh, but with charm. Sir Olly had taken it upon himself not to tell Kockup Keir or Downing Street or the Foreign Secretary. On discovering Sir Olly’s failure to mention this trifling detail, Starmer gave him the heave-ho without so much as a disciplinary hearing or a chance to defend himself, which lawyers would term unfair dismissal. M’Learned Friends are currently doing a jig around the Temple rubbing their hands in anticipation, and ordering in the Krug by the case.

But here’s the thing. Sir Olly knew that Downing Street was desperate to get Mandelson over to Washington DC, there to whisper sweet nothings into the Rancid Kumquat’s miracuously-healed ear, and for him to get a crap trade deal which the President would later renege upon. He knew that Morgan McSweeney was not looking for a no, which was a reasonable inference to draw from the words “just fucking approve him”. He knew that – preposterously – the appointment had already been announced and approved by the King and the White House, which would have made its retraction embarassing. And so he made a judgment call and was subsequently sacked for it. Why? Because Kockup Keir needed a scapegoat. Because it is never his fault.  Because if anyone is packing up his pencil case and giving up the luxury limos, it is certainly not going to be him. Anyone contrasting Sir Olly’s elegant and emollient performance before the Parliamentary Foreign Affairs Committee on Tuesday with the Prime Minister’s petulant, uncomfortable, address to the Commons the previous day would conclude there was only one winner. REINSTATE SIR OLLY!!! Because sacking him is far worse than appointing Mandelson. If there is one thing that the British Public hates, it is a decent bloke getting kicked in the bollocks to save someone else’s skin.

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We start our review of the week’s woeful wear in Hollywood at the AFI Lifelong Achievement Award to Eddie Murphy. Two attendees were film director Spike Lee and his wife, Tonya Lewis Lee. 

Tonya seems to be on a sponsored bet to wear as many different colours as possible in her combo of a black bra, a brown and white blouse, a grey snakeskin curtain worn as a skirt, and a navy bag. Who knows what colour her shoes are? As for Spike, he looks like a superannuated golf caddy whose trousers have shrunk in the wash.

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Now we visit the Los Angeles County Museum of Art (LACMA), which held an Opening Gala for the new David Geffen Galleries. One guest was the world’s most ubiquitous celebritee, Heidi Klein, wearing dsquared2.

Er…. there seems to have been a recent interference with the workings of nature, facially speaking. As for the outfit, she has stepped right off the stage of the Golden Nugget in Las Vegas.  

Meanwhile, Robert F Kennedy Jr, the crazed nutcase who is the US Secretary of State for Health, is alleged to have cut off the penis of a dead raccoon he found in the road and taken it home “to study it”. Is Heidi following suit and carting around a dead bear cub? 

To NYC, where we come across actor Anne Hathaway wearing a Calvin Klein “dress” and a Valentino tuxedo.

This is horrible. She looks as if she is covered in crawling cockroaches.

Now we are in Las Vegas at CinemaCon with actor Robert Downey Jr, wearing vintage Paul Smith.

Blimey! It’s Mr Toad in his driving kit. All he needs are the goggles.

The Devil Wears Prada 2 hit the world like a couture juggernaut this week, prior to its general release next week. Here we are in New York for the US première with actor Tracie Thoms, reprising her role as Anne Hathaway’s best friend, wearing Christian Siriano.

The dress was apparently custom, made from liquid latex vinyl. Sorry, but the lovely Tracie resembles a diseased plum. Why this would be anybody’s look of choice, WTF cannot say.

And here is Emily Blunt, wearing Schiaparelli.

There is A LOT going on here. Particularly the hairy pompom and bodice, like a weird 3D ladies’ restroom sign.

If a 3D ladies’ restroom sign went to a fancy dress party as a glacier in a pearl necklace, this is what it it would look like.

And then they got to Leicester Square for the European première, at which, as it happens, WTF was present. As she arrived at the front door of the cinema,  there was a stage and a huge screen showing a very pregnant Laura Whitmore, Irish celebritee-at-large, interviewing the stars (none of whom had anything remotely interesting to say) and screaming “oh my God’ a lot. Which was WTF’s reaction to Laura’s outfit….

This is not a pregnancy thing. This is a taste thing. But kudos to her staying upright in her Louboutins, thereby disproving Newton’s theory of gravity.

And finally, we are at the Breakthrough Prize ceremony in Santa Monica, with actor Zoe Saldana wearing Alaïa.

WTF is entirely unclear why actors are invited to attend the Breakthrough Prize, which is about achievements in science. Perhaps Zoe has some new aperçus on Newton’s theory of gravity. Or something. Anyway, her dress with trewsies is unobjectionable from the front, but it is quite another story from the back…..

Yurgle! Did Zoe get attacked by her dog before leaving the house?

This week’s It’s Got to Go comes from WTF aficionados various who were shocked, and then shocked some more, by this picture of the reunion of the original stars of Charlie’s Angels, Kate Jackson (77), Jaclyn Smith (80) and Cheryl Ladd (74). Sadly, the fourth Angel, Farrah Fawcett Majors, died in 2009.

Of course, these ladies do not look like they used to look in 1976. That was FIFTY YEARS AGO. Nobody looks the same as they did fifty years ago, and nor should they. But they have all undergone major interference with the workings of nature. In the case of Jaclyn, the results are successful, albeit improbable. In the case of the other two, they should be consulting their lawyers, stat. Why are Hollywood women not allowed to age gracefully? Why are they not allowed to go grey? Why are they condemned to a frozen face in perpetuity? It’s Got to Go.

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