WTF Shylock Special

Hallo Readers

It is hard to survey the forthcoming election with any enthusiasm. Every day, Boris Johnson looks more and more inept, a pinker, posher, version of Donald Trump, lacking any ability to communicate with anyone whom he does not want to shag or who did not go to a public school. His belated visit to Yorkshire, days after the denizens of that County had been sloshing about knee deep in dirty water, was a sight to behold, with fed-up citizens telling him to buzz off and look snappy about it. Like Jacob Rees-Mogg, that old Etonian charm is like a large Chicken Chow Mein –  pleasant at the time, but wears off very quickly, leaving you with a taste for something else.

But is that something else Jeremy Corbyn? The polls do not think so, but then pollsters have got it wrong before. Apart from those who now declare that they will vote for the Brexit Party rather than Labour, even in constituencies which have never voted anything else, there is the small matter of the Jewish Community, many of whom have declared that they would rather stuff their faces with bacon butties than to vote for a party whose Leader has repeatedly supported rabid Jew haters whose Leadership has failed to expel those making antisemitic remarks (and in some cases has actively intervened to get them off the hook), and whose local constituencies have pursued pro-Israel MPs with a vengeance, not to mention those who have dared to criticise JC Himself. Only this week, we were treated to the sight of the candidate for Clacton, Gideon Bull, having to stand down after press exposure, when it emerged that he had called a fellow Haringey councillor Shylock. The lady in question, Zena Brabazon, happened to be Jewish, but Bull claimed that he had not known that Shylock was a Jew. In other breaking news, the Elephant Man was disabled, and Dracula was a vampire from Transylvania. One would say that Bull was too stupid to be an MP, until you remember Andrew Bridgen. In Bull’s case, a complaint had been made about him in July, but it seems that no one had got around to dealing with it. What a surprise. Adopting people like Bull as Labour candidates is hardly likely to assuage Jews’ concerns about Labour and it leaves the Liberal North London elite, of which WTF is a paid up member, as well as a Jew, in a real quandary. She does not want Johnson. She is uninspired by Jo Swinson, and remembers what happened last time the Liberal Democrats got into a coalition. Nor does she think that Article 50 should be repealed without a second referendum.  She is not eligible to vote for the Scottish Nationalists.  But can she and her fellow Jews vote for a man who has shown such scant empathy for the community to which she belongs? To those who say, suck it up for the greater good, that is easy to say if you are not the one under threat….


We start our review of the week’s sartorial slops with Prime Ministerial Consort Carrie Symonds, wearing Marks and Spencer, and her swain, Boris Johnson, en route to the Cenotaph for Remembrance Sunday.

Boris looks like a bundle of laundry, so no change there. Just how hard is it to get an iron, a pair of trousers that fit, and an overcoat in the right size? (Answer – in his case, very.) The shirt is folded as if it were an intricate piece of origami, while the trousers flap gently in the breeze like a flag at half mast. When Jeremy Corbyn looks better turned out than you do, you need to rethink as a matter of urgency. As for Carrie, she is dressed like Jacob Rees-Mogg’s beloved Nanny, and wearing a fascinator anywhere, let alone to a funeral, should be a criminal offence.

To LA where we find born-again Christian Kanye West, and his wife Kim Kardashian, both wearing Burberry.

Kanye has tucked his trousers into his boots like a cycling librarian. His wife is displaying her surgically-enhanced derrière in a particularly foul pair of denim-jeans-cum-leather-chaps which appear to merge straight into her bootees, like a vacuous fashionista remake of Brokeback Mountain set in Rodeo Drive.

We are now at the People’s Choice Awards, whose logo profusely proclaimed that The People Have Spoken. The People’s language must have been choice indeed. Take singer Gwen Stefani, wearing Vera Wang Bridal.

Gwen was not actually getting married, which makes her choice of attire somewhat surprising. But not as surprising as the revelation that Vera Wang makes wedding dresses that suggest to appalled onlookers that the bride has got an exceptionally long and wide loo-roll stuck to her bottom.

Here is another one for the People to Speak about, singer Kelly Rowland wearing Iris van Herpen.

WTF admires Iris van Herpen’s originality, but there is originality and there is plain bonkers, and this is the latter, squared, and then multiplied to the power of n. This seems to be a shower curtain decorated with prints of Maori caricatures, and WTF deplores the way that one of those caricatures is sitting directly over Kelly’s ladyparts.

And bringing up the rear, Moschino’s chief designer Jeremy Scott, wearing himself.

Jeremy is becoming ever more ridiculous. If a matador went to a S&M party straight from the bullring, this is what he would look like.

Now here we are at the Glamour Women of the Year bash and young actress Sophia Lillis wearing Bathsheva.

Sophia is only 17, but that is no excuse for dressing the poor girl in frou-frou wrapping paper like an unopened birthday gift from the 1980s.

There are an awful lot of galas about. This one was in New York and it featured model Coco Rocha wearing Jean Paul Gauthier.

Jean Paul has been knocking out these dafter-than-daft, half and half things for a while now, and they are not getting any more acceptable. Coco looks like a scaly anteater with one trouser leg, one sleeve, and no taste whatever.

Here we are at the LA premiere of Charlie’s Angels. It was rubbish originally and WTF has no reason to believe that it will be any better this time around. One of the guests was makeup artiste Melly Sanchez.

Melly, who is a Nicki Minaj lookalikey, seems to share the same predilection for interfering with the workings of nature, because she seems to be full of more plastic than a landfill site, although she is very beautifully made up. WTF has no idea what she is wearing, not even at all, but she resembles a posh lady fox-hunter in thermals who has taken a bad tumble. Tally ho!

And finally, a strong contender for the WTF Christmas  Turkey 2019 and there are still five more blogs left until then. Wait for it. If you are squeamish or religiously inclined, please prepare yourself. Ready? You won’t be. This is actress Laverne Cox wearing  Hakan Akkaya.

All together now. AAAAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!!! It is all bad, from the slave halter to the tit strips to the imminent Minge Moment, courtesy of the tiny velvet tabard thingy. It is a good job that Johnnie Walker was sponsoring the event because many present would have needed a nip, or more than one, to recover from seeing this affront to the eyeballs. Pretty please, Laverne, put it away, love! Yurgle.


OK Readers that’s your lot for this week. It’s Got To Go has gone for this edition but it will be back next week. Hope you will be as well. Keep those suggestions coming as well as your comments, which soothe WTF’s soul during these troubled times. Let us meet again next Friday. Be good x


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WTF Rees-Mogg Special

Hallo Readers,

Old Etonian and Oxonian Jacob Rees-Mogg, a character P G Wodehouse would have rejected as too outlandish for his Jeeves and Wooster books, is a multi-millionaire (some inherited, some acquired through marriage, and the rest made himself through financial trading). Thought to be worth some £100m, he owns a Jacobean manor house in leafy Somerset and a £5m townhouse in London, is a devout Catholic, and has six children who are looked after by his old Nanny. He used to take Nanny canvassing with him. He has probably never set foot in a residential tower block in his life. For him, multi-culturalism is allowing the under-gardener’s children to play in the scullery. One also suspects that there are very few black and brown faces in Rees-Mogg’s constituency of North East Somerset, other than the few who run the local Indian and Chinese restaurants in the picturesque villages dotted around the place. So it was all the more offensive to hear him denigrate the residents of Grenfell Tower for obeying the advice given to them by the Fire Brigade and staying in their flats, rather than abandoning them and running down the smoke-filled staircases. Rees-Mogg told interviewer Nick Ferrari on LBC, ‘I think if either of us were in a fire, whatever the Fire Brigade said, we would leave the burning building. It just seems the common sense thing to do. And it is such a tragedy that that didn’t happen.’ In other words, he and Ferrari were blessed with common sense, whereas the riff-raff were not. He later claimed, implausibly, that he had meant that with hindsight he would have left the building. Bridgen, the man who thought all Brits were entitled to an Irish passport after Brexit until he learned live on air that they were not, then weighed in on his friend’s Rees-Mogg’s behalf, (Friend? Really? WTF doubts whether Bridgen would be let into the back parlour, let alone the front drawing room). He said that Moggy was cleverer than other people, and wasn’t that a good thing, as we wanted clever people to run the country? (Yes we do Andrew, so just piss off, and take Jacob with you). Whereupon the degree of outrage intensified and Bridgen then had to apologise as well. Party Chair James not-at-all Cleverley then had to apologise for the apologies. If the Tory Party had any sense, which it does not, it would ship Rees-Mogg and Bridgen abroad for the duration, like a couple of the remittence men from centuries past. However, given that they both have to defend their Parliamentary seats, they will doubtless pop up again between now and December 12, the better to disgust us with their stupidity.

Of course, had the building been clad with the appropriate fire-retardant materials, and not the cheaper stuff intended for blocks of no more than eight stories, there would have been no need for anyone to leave the building. There would have been no need for anyone to die. But, as we know, the building was not clad with the appropriate fire-resistant materials. Someone, somewhere, made good with second best. The Tory Council also decided that sprinklers were too expensive, and that it would be a really good idea to build something right in front of the entrance so that the fire engines could not get to the front door. It also ignored the protests from the residents about these matters. Do you suppose that Rees-Mogg ever gave a second’s thought to the living conditions of the poorer residents of Kensington and Chelsea? Of course he didn’t, just as he voted against a bill proposing to compel private landlords (like him) to make their properties fit for human habitation. Because people like Rees-Mogg, wallowing in wealth and privilege, may talk about defeating the Metropolitan Elites and the Remoaners and bringing Power Back to the People and the rights of the 52%. But the power he is most interested in is that of the 1%. Including him.


We start our survey of the week’s clothing catastrophes in California with singer Nick Jonas ,wearing Ermenegildo Zegna.

Nick has been getting on WTF’s nerves for quite a while, especially when he compounded being irritating by marrying someone even more irritating, actress and UNICEF spokesperson Priyanka Chopra. And now he has ramped up the irritation factor yet higher by parading about in this ridiculously shiny suit, looking like an advertisement for the Northern Lights.

As for those trousers, they can best be described as ‘snug’.

To the Los Angeles County Museum of Art bash hosted by Gucci, where the great and good were wearing the design house’s wares. Here is singer Billie Eilish.

Billie’s hair is a bit Northern Lights as well. Is it Northern Lights Week? But worse are these couture jim-jams, seemingly designed for a big, tall, fat, person rather than Billie, who is five feet two and not big or fat. And clock the logo-ed hiking boots. You never saw Sherpa Tenzing in a pair of those…..

Say hallo to Rapper Tyler, the Creator .

He looks like an overgrown schoolboy skiving off to go fishing. And for reasons which WTF simply cannot explain, not even at all, he is wearing Startrite shoes, the one all British kiddies wear, including Prince George.

We now travel to Seville for one of WTF’s favourite fashion events of the year, the MTV European Music Awards, where bad taste was all around. Like singer Mabel,  wearing Jean Paul Gauthier. 

Not only is the bottom half very ridiculous and very mingey, the bodice appears to have been inspired by Mickey Mouse.

Our next fashion victim is Spanish singer Rosalia, wearing Balmain. A lot of Balmain.

You know that big, fat, tall, person who should have been wearing Billie’s jim-jams?Here is his or hers day outfit. Rosalia’s sister Pilar is her stylist. That’s her off the Christmas Card List….. the whole of Rosalia’s family, and a couple of neighbours, could fit into that ludicrous jacket.

Finally, here is  Argentine singer J Mena (née Jimena Barón), wearing not enough.

If Cleopatra went to a fancy dress party as a rhinestone cowgirl, this is what she would look like. And she only had one asp.


This week’s It’s Got To Go comes from WTF aficionado Alice from Bristol, and, indirectly, from actress and Trump-hater Alyssa Milano, who tweeted about this ghastly woman, who is paid OUT OF UNITED STATES TAXES to act as, wait for it, Trump’s faith adviser. Meet Paula White.

This hideous, plastic-faced, horror-show is the embodiment of everything that is bad about American Christian fundamentalism. When she was only 18, ‘the Lord gave me a vision that every time I opened my mouth and declared the Word of the Lord, there was a manifestation of His Spirit where people were either healed, delivered, or saved. When I shut my mouth, they fell off into utter darkness and God spoke to me and said ‘I called you to preach the gospel’. White apparently converted Trump to Christianity in 2002 and has been his spiritual adviser ever since. Seeing what a mean, nasty, dishonest, hate-filled, son of a bitch he is, if he has been saved from utter darkness, one shudders to think what someone unsaved must be like. It simply does not bear thinking about. White is apparently a proponent of ‘prosperity theology’ – in essence, believe in God and He will see you right financially – except that He will only see you right financially if you donate financially to the Ministry leading you to Him. Like White’s own Church organisations. She and Trump are a match made in Heaven. As far as both of them are concerned, They’ve Got To Go.


OK Readers, that’s your lot for this week. Keep sending in your comments, which put a spring into WTF’s wearied step, and please don’t forget your scintillating suggestions for It’s Got To Go. Let us meet again next Friday. Be good. x

Posted in Andrew Bridgen, Boris Johnson, Celebrity, Celebrity Fashion Disasters, David Cameron, Dominic Cummings, Donald Trump, Fashion, Fashion Awards, Fashion Disasters, General Election, Grenfell Tower, Jacob Rees-Mogg, MTV EMAs, Paula White, Politics, Uncategorized, Worst Dressed Celebrities | Tagged , , , , , | 1 Comment

WTF Off We Go Again Special

Hallo Readers,

In one of WTF’s favourite movies, Ruthless People, Danny de Vito’s wife is kidnapped and a huge ransom is demanded. Danny has no intention of paying a dime because he hates his wife and wants her money. He is therefore somewhat upset to discover the kidnappers (who are actually the heroes, long story) have not murdered his wife (Bette Midler) and are trying to bargain him down out of desperation. Exasperated, he tells them, ‘Well, I didn’t pay and just today I was at the morgue and she wasn’t there.’ The scene came to mind when WTF noticed that yesterday was 31 October 2019, but Britain was still in the EU and Prime Minister Boris Johnson was not dead in a ditch. He was not even in a ditch. Indeed, he had not so much as ventured outdoors to find some indentation into which he could crawl and expire for the cause. In short, he lied. Who knew?

Instead of Brexit, we are having a General Election and then Brexit (maybe). Jeremy Corbyn, having opposed an election for months, is definitely up for it, positively dancing down the stairs with glee as Britain trudges towards the polling stations for the third time in four years. Some people have probably not been to the dentist that often. But to be frank, most people would be more enthusiastic about the prospect of root canal treatment without an anaesthetic than having to endure the waffle and windbaggery that awaits the weary nation between now and 12 December. You would rather listen to the umpteenth rendition of a Merry Christmas Everybody, sung by a strangulated teenaged girls’ choir, than to some creep on the Today programme, failing to answer the question, and parroting on about difficult decisions and getting Brexit done and saving our NHS. No one believes anything anyone says about anything, and, in many cases, they don’t believe it themselves.

Politicians are making eyes at each other like an extended episode of Love Island, but with worse weather and more clothing. The Brexit Party is wooing the Tories to make a deal to stand aside in each other’s most-likely-to-win seats to ensure that Brexit gets done. The parties who want to stop Brexit are planning similar pacts. And from across the Atlantic, Donald J Trump is lavishing fulsome praise upon his friend Boris Johnson, describing him as ‘a fantastic guy’, and ‘terrific’, and the man to lead Britain out of Europe and into the arms of the United States, which will pour gold into our laps whilst sending us limitless supplies of chlorinated chicken and MAGA caps. Trump also heaped scorn on Corbyn, telling Nigel Farage in a radio phone interview that he (Corbyn) ‘would be so bad for your country, he’d be so bad, he’d take you in such a bad way.. He’d take you into such bad places. But your country has tremendous potential, it’s a great country’. From which we can deduce that (i) Trump is not a great judge of character (ii) he is an idiot and (iii) he has a vocabulary only slightly greater than an amoeba with learning difficulties. Trump also denied that he would insist on the NHS being on the table before any trade negotiations began, despite his Ambassador to the UK, Woody Johnson (of Johnson& Johnson fame, you know, the Pharmaceutical giant), saying last year that the NHS being on the table was a precondition of negotiations taking place. But then, like Boris Johnson, Trump rarely lets the truth get in the way of whatever he is saying.  THERE ARE SIX WEEKS OF THIS AHEAD. Lay in supplies of ear plugs. It is going to be a long hard winter…..


We start our review of the week’s sartorial stupidity with the éminence grise behind Boris Johnson, creature of the night Dominic Cummings, looking like a sack of shit.

Yes, dear Readers, he walks into Downing Street every day looking like this – artfully dishevelled, a copy of one of the down-and-outs that Woody Guthrie used to write songs about. 

Trump’s one-time éminence grise, Steve Bannon, also dresses like this. Is it supposed to demonstrate that these guys are not part of the elite? Whatever the reason, one’s first instinct is to hose them down and then dunk them into a bath of disinfectant. And leave them there.

Next up, we have actress Emma Roberts, wearing Vivienti.

Great legs, but she looks like a hat check girl in a dubious 40’s downtown bar.

Now we go to the Pride of Britain Awards in London and ‘celebritee’ Ferne McCann, wearing Rayane Bacha.

Ferne resembles a peekaboo pistachio mermaid. This sheer thing is becoming extremely tedious, but no-one is prepared to put a stop to it. Let it be soon. Amen.

Also attending the event was Strictly Come Dancing judge Craig Revel Horwood, wearing something very pink.

Craig spent much of the week slagging off fellow judge Bruno Tonioli for posting pictures of himself in his scanties on Instagram. Frankly, Craig would be better off worrying about his own clothing choices, including this ridiculous ensemble. If the Pink Panther went to a fancy dress party as a member of a South American Maracas Band, this is what he would look like.

To the Governors’ Ball, and Irish actress Saoirse Ronan, wearing Emilia Wickstead.

The lovely Saoirse is wearing an overlong picnic tablecloth. How she avoided going arse over tit is more than WTF can understand. This is the trouble with wearing borrowed designer togs. The samples are designed for tall stick insects. Saoirse is neither. As a result, the hems have been tacked up about eight inches and they are still too long. And there is something very disturbing about the crotch.

This is World Champion 200m sprinter, Dina Asher-Smith wearing Zimmerman at the Bazaar Women of the Year 2019.

Zimmerman calls this its ‘Explosion Dress’, and this is apt, given the effect it has on the stomachs of appalled onlookers. Dina should have set another World Record running in the opposite direction from this nonsense. Instead, she seems to be standing in one of those shiny hologram gift bags.


 You thought that was shiny. Here is actor Donald Glover wearing Dolce & Gabbana. 

High-waisted trousers, which are also too short, and a belt, and a corsage would already constitute excess, but then it goes into overdrive with head to ankle shiny red, like a strolling strawberry daiquiri.



This week’s It’s Got To Go comes from WTF aficionado @net_en_yah_oo, who has taken great exception to Kylie Jenner, the youngest of the excruciating  Kardashian Klan, not just dressing her daughter Stormi Webster, aged 18 months, in Versace, but in an exact copy of the Versace outfit Mummy wore to the Met Ball in May.

Toddlers should not be toddling about in furry minge moments. It is offensive. It’s Got To Go.


OK Readers, that’s your lot for this week. You heeded WTF’s request last week to put a smile on her face by sending in your comments and she feels the better for it. Keep it going, And don’t forget your splendid suggestions for It’s Got To Go. Let us meet again next Friday. Be good. x


Posted in Boris Johnson, Brexit, Celebrity, Celebrity Fashion Disasters, Dominic Cummings, Donald Trump, Fashion Awards, Fashion Disasters, General Election, Jeremy Corbyn, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , | 3 Comments

WTF Human Scum Special

Hallo Readers,

On our side of the Atlantic, we have become sadly all too familiar with the concept of attacking people in public service as a way of deflecting blame from the politicians who are busy buggering things up. Social media unleashed the furies and Brexit sent them scattering in all directions more vile and irrational than ever. This was never better illustrated than the nonsensical attack on the judges for upholding Gina Miller’s claim that Parliament had to have a say before Mrs Maybe (remember her?) invoked Article 50. The judges were ‘The Enemies Of The People’. The Master of the Rolls, Sir Terence Etherton, copped it for being gay, Jewish and an ex-fencer. Baroness Hale was a “feminist who hates marriage”. Some other judges were partial to a spot of Brie. You get the picture. If you were involved in anything that impeded the country’s slow trundle towards the exit, you were inimical to the interests of the UK and you were a traitor.

Across the Atlantic, we are seeing the same thing. Only there, it is personal. If you are in any way opposed to the President of the US, you are not just wrong or misguided, you are a criminal, a conspirator, and treasonous. Trump attacked the FBI and CIA during the Mueller investigation, calling them crooks and corrupt. Then he called for the impeachment of various senators and congresspersons who had called for his impeachment, despite the fact that the Constitution does not provide for any such process for elected representatives in either the Senate or Congress. Conversely, he has suggested that attempts to impeach him are unconstitutional, even though the Constitution expressly provides for a President to be impeached. Now he is attacking Ambassadors and members of the State Department, career diplomats who have devoted their life to public service. After Ambassador Bill Taylor gave evidence to Congress about Trump’s demand that Ukraine dish the dirt on the Biden family or forego millions in military aid, the White House Press Secretary (who has yet to give a press briefing, despite it being her actual job), described Taylor as a ‘radical unelected bureaucrat’ conspiring with ‘far-left Democrats’. Taylor was in fact got out of retirement by Trump’s Secretary of State, Mike Pompeo, to be the Ambassador to the Ukraine. Trump then weighed in, describing Taylor, on no apparent evidence, but then, what’s new, as a Never-Trumper, and called all such persons ‘human scum’.  So this is where democracy is going in the US. Trump, who has never criticised Putin or a bunch of other dictators and murderers, who claims he and Kim Jong Un are ‘în love’, and who has hitched his wagon to President Erdogan while he massacres the Kurds, thinks it is treasonous to either criticise him or to try and impeach him, and that any Republican who objects to his lying, profiteering, incompetence, and hatred of anyone and everyone who does not kiss his ass, is human scum. This is frightening. Almost as frightening as the hold he has over the supine, Republican Always-Trumpers, who allow him to become ever more outrageous, intolerant and dishonest. And this is the man who is championed by our Prime Minister, and the Country to which we crawl begging for a trade deal when we walk away from the trade deals we already have.


We start our examination of the week’s sartorial silliness with actress Kate Beckinsale appearing on the Jimmy Kimmel show, wearing Georges Chakra.

She seems to have some waffles attached to her chest. Which is, to say the least, weird. And then some….

Next up we have Britain’s Got Talent judge Amanda Holden. wearing Azzi and Osta.

Not only is there a preponderance of tit, Azzi and Osta appear to have run out of fabric at a crucial moment. Either that, or the family dog got the munchies.

And here is actress Denise van Outen, wearing Nadine Merabi.

Nadine Merabi is herself a distinguished winner of the WTF Christmas Turkey 2012, and this is the sort of tawdry, WAGtastic, nonsense in which she specialises, sheer with an imminent Minge Moment. WTF will say it again. When you have to hold your bag in front of your front bottom, there is something seriously wrong with your dress. Or with you for wearing it. 

This is actor Cody Fern, wearing Louis Vuitton.

WTF deplores visible nipple activity (VNA) on anyone, male or female, including on Cody. Something has gone awry with the trousers, both at the top and at the bottom.  If an ice skater went to a fancy dress party dressed as a Christmas decoration with nipples, this is what he would look like.

Next up, we have actress Eva Longoria at the Global Gift Gala wearing Balmain.

Balmain? This resembles a bin bag with buttons. And it is not often that WTF says this, but Eva needs to take several sizes down.

To the Latin American Music Awards in Hollywood, where we encounter musician  Yashua wearing who even knows what.

WTF could walk along the Embankment and encounter a number of homeless people who are better dressed than this, and who also have more need of the mask. To add mental insult to visual injury, Yashua hired a stylist by the name of Justin Lynn to put it all together. Yes, Readers. HE ACTUALLY PAID SOMEONE TO MAKE HIM LOOK LIKE THAT… Why not just make a bonfire of $50 notes on the driveway?

And now we come to lovely actress Tessa Thompson, wearing Loewe. Scroll down slowly to get the full appalling effect…..

A cream leather trouser suit with a black witch’s collar starts off life being problematic; and life gets no easier when the jacket has a peplum like a traditional Greek dancer’s skirt, and the trousers end in floor-length folds like a particularly dramatic marble column.

Finally, we have actress Hailee Steinfeld, wearing Francesco Scognamilio.

Eve was not wearing much less when she and Adam were wandering around the Garden of Eden having a lovely time and not having to worry about the neighbours. It turns out that Hailee is wearing flesh-toned leggings under the sheer skirt but that is not the point. There is an appearance of nakedness which could put people off their foodstuffs. Will this never end?


This week’s It’s Got To Go comes from WTF aficionado WTF, who has had enough of online retailer ASOS flogging really stupid clothes to the gullible public. And how gullible would you have to be to buy this?

This is supposed to be a tee-shirt, but it looks more like a pack-a-mac, and, as WTF has already made clear, visible nipple activity in men is no more acceptable than in women. This whole sheer schtick must end. No ifs, no buts. It’s Got To Go.


OK Readers, that’s your lot for this week. You ignored WTF’s request last week to put a smile on her face by sending in your comments  to stop her 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


Posted in Boris Johnson, Brexit, Celebrity, Celebrity Fashion Disasters, Donald Trump, Uncategorized, Worst Dressed Celebrities | Tagged , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

WTF Technology Special

Hallo Readers,

Yesterday morning, WTF was returning from the gym feeling relatively cheery, only to hear on the radio that, in breaking news, the DUP had agreed to support Boris Johnson’s deal with the EU, which would have probably secured Brexit in a fortnight’s time. WTF uttered a number of expletives, which it is unnecessary to repeat here, and narrowly avoided swerving into a bus as she suddenly saw the horrible reality of the end of the ifs and the maybes, and life outside the EU beginning on 1 November. Within minutes, just as some chappie on LBC was explaining what this all meant, it turned out that the DUP had done no such thing, and were as opposed to treating Northern Ireland differently to the rest of the UK as they had been two hours earlier. So we were back staring over the edge of the abyss, rather than plunging into it. WTF returned home, somewhat shaken by her experience, had several cups of coffee, and, like everybody else, continued to wonder what the fuck was going on. And she is still wondering.

When you have to depend on the DUP to save you from Brexit, you know that things are pretty precarious. They are a ghastly group of religious bigots. But at the moment, your enemy’s enemy is your friend, even if she is called Arlene Foster. And the DUP are sticking by their view that there is no point being the Democratic Unionist Party if the Union you believe in as your lynchpin is about to have one set of customs and VAT rules for Great Britain, and another rule for Northern Ireland, and that the Province will remain subject to the Court of Justice of the European Union, also unlike the rest of the UK. Not to mention the small matter that Johnson had assured them, and everyone else, that it would never happen. He lied about that, in the same way as he lies about everything and to everyone. Nor has he come up a magic technological thingummy which would enable satellites orbiting around the Irish Sea to see what is in every parcel, every lorry, and every car, thereby preventing actual people performing that customs function. As someone pointed out, with all those technology lessons he got from blond bombshell Jennifer Acuri when he was Mayor of London and she was his, er, friend, you would have thought that he could have developed apposite something by now. Sadly, it appears that he has not.

And so we are down to the wire. On Saturday, assuming that the DUP and other Unionists give the deal the nostril, it will come down to defections from Labour MPs, on pain of expulsion, and to convincing the likes of Mark Francois and Andrew Bridgen, who jointly have the IQ of a squashed squash, to vote in favour of it. If it does not pass the Commons, the Benn Act requires Johnson to ask for an extension, rather than have us leave on a no-deal, and we will be back to square one. It is like being on a roller-coaster without a sick bag. And WTF – and many others- are feeling pretty damn sick at the moment.


We begin our review of the week’s crapulous clothing with rapper Cardi B out and about in LA, wearing Sally LaPointe

Cardi is more covered up than she is normally is, for which we give much thanks. However, this preposterous outfit makes her look like Two-Face from Batman. In addition, the jacket doesn’t fit, and what the white shoes have to do with the price of fish, WTF cannot say.

To Hollywood, where we again come across model and actor Patrick Schwarzenegger  at the Elle Hollywood Rising Stars bash. Two weeks ago, WTF had never heard of him and yet he is featured in here twice in a fortnight.

This party held at the boutique of Salvatore Ferragamo, but Patrick arrived dressed and ready to do the washing up, showing admittedly very shapely calves, while his collar is simply an affront. Get the iron out, man!

Another Elle event, this time the Elle Women in Hollywood in LA, where we find actress Lake Bell wearing Monse.

More Monsense. It’s horrible, with fringing like the lovechild of a barber’s pole and a gauzy sofa. And it only has one arm for a two-armed person, which WTF hates almost above all things. Lake seems stricken. No wonder.

Here is one of our frequent flyers, rapper Nicki Minaj, wearing Fendi.

Fendi used to make fashion. Now it is placing clients in chain-linked fencing and calling it couture.

Say hallo to annoying actress Kate Hudson at a UN girl up event, wearing Hellessy.

This is very slithery and it is also unflattering. If Sam the Slithery Snake went to a fancy dress party as a silk nightdress, this is what he would look like.

Also present at girl up was model and actress Cara Delevigne, wearing Guy Laroche.

You what? Cara looks like a peekaboo pantomime cow. And more horrible white shoes.

The pantomime season has obviously started early. Here is singer Sam Smith at the London Attitude Awards, wearing Lacy Menagerié.

It’s Men’s Lingerie, Menagerié. Get it? What on earth is this supposed to be? WTF is bewildered, and then bewildered some more. And some more after that. Perhaps Sam is set to to play Widow Twankey in Cleethorpes  come Christmas?


This week’s It’s Got To Go comes from WTF aficionado Claire from Golders’ Green. She positively applauds the commuters of Canning Town, East London, who got fed up with the Extinction Rebellion Protesters perched atop their tube train on Thursday morning. Claire says that when you are waiting on a packed platform to get to work at the crack of sparrow-fart, it is more than irritating to find someone sitting on the carriage roof as a protest against the environment in peril. She was all for furious commuters dragging the protesters off the roof by their ankles, and even applauded a woman who threw eggs at them, which WTF considers to be a waste of eggs. WTF is not unsympathetic to commuter outrage, but she is certainly not in favour of duffing anyone up, even if they are delaying your journey. Vigilantism is not OK. The protesters should have come to Highbury & Islington, where they would probably have been offered a cappuccino, not had one thrown over them, plus a pain au chocolat. It’s Got To Go.


OK Readers, that’s your lot for this week. Put a smile on WTF’s face by sending in your comments – they have become more scant and that puts WTF into a panic and  in panic is not where she wants to be. And don’t forget your splendid suggestions for It’s Got To Go. Let us meet again next Friday. Be good. x



Posted in Boris Johnson, Brexit, Celebrity, Celebrity Fashion Disasters, Extinction Rebellion, Northern Ireland, Paris Fashion Week, Uncategorized, Women in Hollywood Awards, Worst Dressed Celebrities | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

WTF Wagatha Christie Special

Hallo Readers,

WTF emerged from synagogue on Yom Kippur on Wednesday night to find a real treat awaiting her, a detective story to rival Wilkie Collins’ The Moonstone and Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes. WTF speaks of the feud between two British WAGs, Colleen Rooney, wife of the priapic former Engerland captain Wayne Rooney, and her erstwhile pal, Rebekah Vardy, spouse of the hapless Leicester striker Jamie Vardy. It seems that Colleen had grown weary of finding her deepest secrets, which she had shared only with mates on a locked Instagram account, appearing in The Sun. She therefore set a trap by spreading fake news on the said account, but limiting the recipients (without their knowledge), finally deducing that the  Villanelle to her Eve was none other than Rebekah. This was disclosed, naturally, on social media, at which Rebekah, who is heavily pregnant, waxed most indignant and has called in M’Learned Friends and a forensic cybersecurity expert. As is now mandatory, she is receiving tons of abuse on Twitter, not to mention death threats, and the expressed hope that her unborn baby dies. All for (allegedly) disclosing that Colleen’s basement had flooded and other minutiae of Rooney family life.

Here’s the thing. Neither Wayne nor Jamie are what you would call heartthrobs, unless your heart throbs at the sight of men with faces like the sort of potatoes supermarkets reject as aesthetically displeasing. Nor were they likely to become Professors of Brain Surgery had they not been handy with their feet and heads. But both are richer than Croesus having won the pools. Whether either Colleen or Rebekah would have married their respective spouses had they been hod carriers, we will never know; but we do know that neither of these ladies would have been household names, even in their own households, had they not plighted their troth to these chaps. What is remarkable is not that Rebekah may or may not have traded her mate’s secrets for some publicity, or whatever, to The Sun, but that The Sun (and other newspapers) would choose to print such blockbuster exposés as the Rooneys seeking baby gender selection treatment in Mexico, Colleen’s planned return to television (kill me now), and a flood at her £20m, six bedroom, new-built mansion, which has been unkindly compared to a Morrison’s supermarket, nestling in forty Cheshire acres and featuring stables, two man-made fishing lakes and an orangery. Equally, as Brexit looms and Trumpy is letting his mate President Erdogan massacre our erstwhile allies, one would have thought that Colleen’s devastating detective work would not have been the main story on Thursday’s front page. But one would have thought wrong.

One would also have thought that it is a little late for Colleen to protect her privacy; this is the woman who flogged her wedding to OK!, and who is regularly photographed without her wedding ring following Mr Potato-Head’s latest alleged dalliance with someone or other, including, on occasion, ladies of the night. But, again it seems one would have thought wrong. This new revelation, which she chose to make public, rather than just suing Vardy or The Sun, will run and run, thereby exposing her to the very publicity she claims to dread. Meanwhile Rebekah, still on holiday in Dubai, has given a coruscating interview to The Daily Mail in which she denies everything and adds of her former friend, ‘It would be like arguing with a pigeon. You can tell it that you are right and it is wrong, but it’s still going to shit in your hair.’ The only answer is for Wayne Rooney and Jamie Vardy to fight for their wives’ honour in a public arena, like a scene from Camelot. Live on Pay-TV of course….



We start our review of the week’s crappy clothing in Atlanta at the Tyler Perry studios with American footballer Colin Kaepernick and his wife Nessa. Nessa looks lovely.

Which is more than you can say for Colin. What is that sash? Is he trying to emulate the Crown Prince of Ruritania? And why are  his trousers not on speaking terms with his ankles?

Here is model Abbey Clancy at the Naked Heart Foundation Fund Raiser wearing Aadnevik. 

Abbey recently gave birth to her third child, and has obviously been on a crash diet because she looks more gaunt than John of Gaunt looking gaunt. As for the dress, she seems to have taken the event name rather literally. If Miss Haversham went to a fancy dress party dressed as a melting icecap, this is what she would look like.

We pop into the Polo in Los Angeles, where we encounter show-off wannabe Megan Pormer, wearing Jaquemus.

Yes, it’s sunny, but surely she could done a bit better than a tablecloth on her head and an old fishing net, like a Pharaoh in giant panties.

Next up, we have actor Shia LaBoeuf, wearing Gucci and Louboutin Trapman boots (the boots cost $1,090).

Every few years, Fashion tries to tell us that chocolate brown is the new black, but no one believes them. This is why. With all that facial hair, Shia resembles a 1950s South American dictator about to nationalise the banks.

To a cornucopia of blatant bad taste, the BET Hip Hop Awards and rapper Rapsody.

Jewelled hair curlers are a new one to WTF and she is relieved to have reached such an advanced age without having ever encountered  them. You never saw Corrie’s Hilda Ogden in jewelled hair curlers. As for the track suit, it seems to be made from a psychedelic version of the stuff they use for insulating sleeping bags and picnic baskets.

And of course, long-term WTF favourite, rapper Lil’ Kim, wearing Gucci.

What on earth has happened to Gucci? It could hardly be more trashy. This is  more covered up than we usually get on Lil’ Kim, but it is still terribly, terribly, terrible, a slithery purple dressing gown with matching shingled hair and ridiculous shoes. And WTF will say it again – breasts are not supposed to start under the clavicles.

A newcomer to these pages, but WTF already loves him like a brother. Meet rapper DaBaby (né Jonathan Kirk), also wearing Gucci and a necklace the size of a chain saw with his surname hanging off it.

DaBaby looks as if he is about to do a soft shoe shuffle in a 1920’s speakeasy. With her hairstyle, Lil’Kim was probably in the audience.

This is rapper Kash Doll, wearing not enough.

Kash Doll is dressed as a titsy cheerleader with a double helping of tit and shr will be needing the Canesten….

And finally, we have reality star DreamDoll  ‘star’ of Love and Hip Hop – New York.

With the preponderance of leather here, one would have hoped that some more of it could have been found for the bra, which is leaking bosom in all directions. The rest of the outfit, not that it is one, is simply a selection of belts, like a sadomasochist’s mail-order catalogue.


This week’s It’s Got To Go comes from WTF aficionado Dr. Sundry Letters (@SalCross) who has brought this appalling item to our attention, a wedding outfit for those whshun convention. And propriety. And taste. And a wish to stay married.

 Sorry but what is occurring? This is up there with the Scrote Tote and the Cantaloupe Panties. Dr Sundry Letters expressed concern about the shin pads but, to be frank, WTF is a lot more concerned about the muff puff. If your intended is still at the altar by the time you get there in your bridal muff puff, you are either a lot luckier than you deserve to be, or there is something seriously wrong with him. It’s Got To Go.


OK Readers, that’s your lot for this week. Put a smile on WTF’s face by keeping those comments rolling in, as well as your splendid suggestions for It’s Got To Go. Let us meet again next Friday. Be good. x





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