WTF Sidney Carton Special

Hallo Readers

You remember Sidney Carton. He is the hero of A Tale of Two Cities, set at the time of the French revolution. He is  deeply in love with Lucie, but she is in love with, and was loved by, French émigré Charles Darnley, who is really a French aristocrat and heir to the evil Marquis St. Évromonde. When the Marquis is murdered, Darnley goes over to France in 1792, is captured and is condemned to the guillotine. Carton, who just happens to be a Darnley lookalikey, takes his place so that his friend and Lucie can be together. As the book ends, Sidney is about to get the chop, but is consoled by the good he is doing. ‘It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known’.

Theresa May is an unlikely Sidney Carton, but on Wednesday night she offered to put her head on the block if her party promised to vote for her Brexit plan, the one that has already been voted down twice by a weird combination of the dastardly Old Etonians, led by le Duc de Boris and le Marquis de Mogg, the rude mechanicals led by Marc Francois and Andrew Bridgen, a truly terrifying rabble from Northern Ireland, and the sans-culottes that are Corbyn’s Labour Party. As a rallying cry, ‘Vote for my crap deal and I promise to go back to Maidenhead’  may not have the ring of ‘Liberté, égalité, fraternité, ou la mort!’, but the clock is ticking and the copywriters are out of time. We were supposed to be out of Europe at 11 pm today. But we are still arguing how – and if – to do it.

The Northern Irish lot remain staunchly opposed, as do most of the European Research Group, of which Le Marquis is Chair. This includes Fatboy Francois, who declared that he would not support the deal were someone to put a shotgun in his mouth. WTF would settle for a ball-gag and some extra-adhesive masking tape. The same goes for Bridgen, a man whose expertise on European politics led him to assert that as a Brit, he was automatically entitled to an Irish passport. (Er…no). However, le Duc and le Marquis have suddenly embraced the very plan they have already voted against and which they attacked for reducing us all to slave-nation status. This change of mind may have less to do with the merits of the deal and more to do with the prospect of the removal van in front of No 10 Downing Street, as May, her chunky Wilma Flintstone jewellery, and her long-suffering husband, climb aboard and ride off into obscurity, leaving the job of Prime Minister up for grabs.

So this is where we are. Our heroine is willing to make the ultimate sacrifice, but even that inducement may not work. Which leaves us up the creek without a canoe. Forget Brexit Means Brexit and the promised Land of Milk and Honey. We are facing Crap Deal or No Deal, and Boris Johnson as Prime Minister, a man who would sell his granny for sixpence and even deny her the right to take her dentures. Far from re-asserting our place in the World, we have become an international laughing stock. England used to tell Irish jokes. France used to tell Belgian jokes. Now the World is telling British jokes. Remember Project Fear? This is Project Fucking Terrifying.


We start the weekly review of fashion faecal matter, beginning with singer Rita Ora wearing Denim on Denim by Diesel.

This is what happens when you cross a sheep and a pair of jeans. If it is cold enough for a fleecy coat and boot-spats, it is too cold for a denim romper, the shirt tails emerging from a micro-skirt like denim minge-flaps. And sunglasses in the dark – only if you have a sty.

This is actress Ginnifer Goodwin at Paleyfest, wearing Zuhair Murad.

This ill-fitting mess looks like cosy thermal long-johns, only it is designed by Zuhair Murad, not Damart. Indeed, it is likely that Damart’s wares would have provided more support for Ginnifer’s boobage, and would not have sagged around the patellae like grandpa’s neglected sleepwear.

To the Nickelodeon Kids’ Choice Awards, where we encounter Hiphoppers Migos, wearing Alyx Studio. All of them.

What kiddies’ choice was this? Weird things are happening around the knees, perhaps to prevent the droopage we have seen on Ginnifer. And why are they wearing clown shoes? 

Here is singer and actress Jennifer Hudson wearing Hanifa.

My Little Pony has turned her hooves to designing trousers. Sadly, they do not fit.

Finally from the Awards, here is actor Shameik Moore, wearing who can even say what this is?

The designer of this horror has kept himself or herself anonymous. Good Call. It looks like khaki vomit with a double helping of carrot.

Welcome back to WTF’s favourite diva, Mariah Carey wearing Balmain.

Mariah is 5’6″ but this Balmain creation barely passes muster as a top, as the rear view, almost literally, demonstrates.

Mariah favours towering stilettos like these bejewelled Louboutins, which means that she can only get from A to B by clutching onto the hand of a beau or paid minion. Sadly, she has chosen pantyhose in the wrong hue and so shiny that her legs look like a couple of uncooked sausages.

Actor and entertainer Billy Porter has appalled us quite a few times this year, and here he is well up to his low standards, wearing a kaftan by self-styled ‘kaftan queen’ Travis Ostreich, a jacket by Palomo and trousers by Vassili.

The colour combo is striking, but everything is so glaring that you would want to find Rita Ora and offer your life savings for her sunglasses. And that jacket clearly started off life in the kiddies’ department at Bloomingdales.

Finally, to Rio and Brazilian TV presenter Sabrina Sato wearing Tomo Koizumi.

Well this is colourful. Plus wearing a couple of feather dusters means that she sweep up as she walks…..


This week’s It’s Got to Go comes from WTF aficionado WTF of Islington, who has taken against Theresa May’s coat. She is sick of seeing the Prime Minister, for now anyway, wandering around the place dressed like a pastel Paddington Bear.

This horrible shapeless garment is actually a padded jacket with a detachable elbow-lenth coat over it. It is by Italian designer Herno and it could be yours for a mere £750.

Like May herself, It’s Got To Go.


OK Readers, that’s your lot for this week. Keep sending your splendid comments as well as your 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, Fashion, Fashion Disasters, Nickelodeon Kids' Choice Awards, Politics, Theresa May, Uncategorized, Worst Dressed Celebrities | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 5 Comments

WTF Baked Beans Special

Hallo Readers,

When WTF was at about ten, she used to ensure that she sat next to a boy called Andrew B whenever baked beans were on the school lunch menu. This is because WTF hated baked beans with a vengeance, (and she still does – they’re so slithery). Andrew B, on the other hand, loved baked beans, and, to be fair, every other form of comestible, and so he wolfed down the aforesaid beans and everyone was happy. Until one day, Andrew B was unwell, probably from a surfeit of foodstuffs, and so he was off school on baked beans day, which left WTF without a convenient receptacle to put them in. As a result, they remained uneaten on her plate. WTF was told to eat them up. She refused (always the bolshy little bastard, even aged ten) and she was kept at the lunch table until 2 30 and refused permission to go and play with her friends. But the beans remained uneaten and, for once anyway, she went hungry.

Mrs Maybe’s Brexit plan reminds WTF of those school baked beans. She promised to deliver us fish and chips, mushy peas optional. Instead, she is serving up spam fritters and baked beans. Not only that, but she is telling us that spam fritters and baked beans are much better for us that fish and chips, that we will really, really, love spam fritters and baked beans, that fish and chips are off the menu, and that it is spam fritters and baked beans or nothing at all. At first, people held out for fish and chips. But as time ticked by, and hunger started to gnaw at their entrails, spam fritters and baked beans become more appealing, even to those who cannot abide the thought of them. The clock hands are edging ever closer to 2 30 and the prospect of no lunch gets worse and worse. And so, a few people are starting gingerly to fork tiny bits of spam fritter and baked beans into their mouths, wincing with distaste to be sure, but swallowing them nonetheless, because they feel that they have no choice. The plan is now that enough people will be hungry enough and desperate enough by the next vote to go down the spam fritters and baked beans route rather than the air diet route. As a strategy, it sucks. But it is all she’s got. She is wholly dependent on running down the clock.

Mrs Maybe chose to supplement this you’ll-eat-it-and-like-it approach with a side order of it-isn’t-my-fault-it’s-Parliament’s-fault. On Wednesday, she appeared for about eight nanoseconds on live TV and told the British people that she was trying her best to deliver spam fritters and baked beans but those bloody MPs in Westminster were busy barricading the door to the larder. WTF had always understood that the whole point of this sorry Brexit exercise was to give power back to Parliament, instead of sneaky little unelected Europhiles calling the shots. Now it appears that Parliament’s exercise of powers is a Bad Thing. So what the hell have these last three years been about? Thanks, David Cameron. Thanks for nothing.


We start the review of the week’s wanky wear with singer and Oscar nominee,  Lady Gaga, wearing Rodarte.

Blonde bombshell meets biker girl meets French maid. Ooh la la…

Now we have actress Alex Borstein from The Magnificent Mrs Maisel, wearing something very terrible.

From the neck up, it’s fine. From the neck down, there is horror in abundance. The shirt is straight out of a Victorian bordello, the trousers do not flatter and have clearly been designed for someone about a foot taller, while the chain belt takes WTF back to the days when she was a teenager and was banned from the dining room at home because her dad was enraged with the scratches inflicted on the backs of the Mahogany chairs by WTF wearing one around  her chubby waist.

The rest of our sartorial silliness comes from the i-Heart Radio awards, starting with singer John Legend, wearing Paul Smith.

Those trousers are decidedly snug. They must rub harder than an enthusiastic  brass-rubber on a sponsored brass-rubbing weekend. And WTF has long railed about too-short jackets à la Norman Wisdom. Even Norman did not wear white shoes, and quite rightly so, because no grown man should wear white shoes unless he is either playing sport or is a medical professional.

Next up is singer and actress Madison Beer, wearing Ester Abner.

MINGE ALERT! This is a Minge Moment waiting to happen and the bajingo blind is patently not up the job. It has been very windy of late. One gust and it will be Open Sesame. There is also a preponderance of over-upholstered tit.

Meet actor Raahsud Dunn, wearing Giovanni Testi.

WTF likes a laugh as well as the next person but the jacket does not fit and its swirliness is giving her the spins. But the main concern here is the trousers. Why is one leg higher than the other? Is he a freemason? Love the sparkling slippers though……

And now, superstar singer Taylor Swift, wearing Rosa Bloom.

Taylor looks like a member of the chorus line in a revival of 42nd Street.

Here is singer Poppy, wearing Viktor and Rolf.

If Ozzie Osbourne ever fancied wearing a frilly nightie, this is the one he would go for. As for the trainers, WTF prefers not to speak of them. Meanwhile, Poppy’s head, complete with a turd top-knot, looks to be superimposed on her body, as if displayed on a spike after an execution, like  in Game of Thrones.

Finally, singer Tiffany Young wearing Jean Paul Gauthier.

If Tinkerbell went to a fancy dress party dressed as one of The Three Musketeers, this is what she would look like. Those things on her legs are amongst the worst legwear WTF ever did see in her life  And she has seen a few stinkers over the years…


This week’s It’s Got to Go comes from WTF aficionado Abbie Doran from East London, making a splendid debut with these monstrosities from the ‘swimwear collection’ offered up for public delectation by Missguided. Ready? You won’t be.

Abby writes: If these catch on, there’ll be a thrush pandemic that could cause Canesten to go into administration to keep up with the demand for some clotrimazole relief! They look genuinely painful…

She is right. It’s Got To Go.


OK Readers, that’s your lot for this week. Keep sending your splendid comments as well as your 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, David Cameron, Fashion, Fashion Disasters, iHeartRadio Music Awards, Theresa May, Uncategorized, Worst Dressed Celebrities | Tagged , , , , , , | 2 Comments

WTF Brexit Update Special

Hallo Readers,

Here is your Brexit update as at 11 30 pm on Thursday 14 March 2019.

Parliament does not want to Brexit with Mrs Maybe’s deal. It has now said so twice. No one wants her crap deal, not even Mrs Maybe – it is about the only thing everyone agrees on. Parliament does not want to Brexit with no deal, but that vote was only advisory and without legal force. Parliament does not want to ask the EU to put everything on hold until 2021, or to delay Brexit until May 2019, or to ask for a delay whilst it works out what other sort of Brexit we can have, or waits for a miracle involving loaves, fishes and duty free wine. And Parliament does not want to hold a second referendum. Parliament does want to ask the EU for an extension to Article 50, and voted for a Government motion to this effect by 413 votes to 202. Pipsqueak Stephen Barclay, the Brexit Secretary, spoke in favour of the motion, urging ‘It is time for this House to act in the national interest, it’s time to put forward an extension that is realistic’. He was so unconvincing that he failed to convince himself, because he, and seven other Cabinet Ministers, then voted against the very motion he had just been supporting. A ninth Cabinet Minister, the Chief Whip, whose job it is to get MPs to support the Government, abstained. You would not send this lot out to buy you a packet of Polo Mints and a box of Kleenex. They would either come back with some Cheesy Wotsits and a roll of quilted toilet paper, or they would resign on the way home and bugger off with your change.

Meanwhile, Labour, which is supposed to now be in favour of a second referendum in circumstances that nobody actually understands, including them, ordered its MPs to abstain on the motion for a second referendum because ‘the time isn’t right’. They are probably waiting for a sign from Heaven, a star above Westminster, or perhaps a clap of thunder and some  lightning bolts. Several shadow ministers, whom WTF would not recognise were they sat in her kitchen eating carrot cake, resigned after voting against the motion, on the basis that the last manifesto had promised that Labour would respect the Will of the People. Several others voted for the motion.

So to sum up – we have no approved deal, we have no idea what deal we want, and even if we wanted it, the EU would not give it to us. We might want a second vote, but only in circumstances where there is no ‘r’ in the month and the moon in alignment with Jupiter. The right wing lunatics want no deal at all, even though everyone else agrees that this is a really shocking prospect. And there is no guarantee that we can have an extension to Article 50, particularly as we don’t know what we would do with an extension if we got one, and nobody has a fucking clue what is going on. Mrs Maybe’s big idea is to ask for a third vote on her crap deal. Einstein observed that the definition of insanity was to keep doing the same thing and expect the outcome to be different. On that basis, it is time to call for the Prime Ministerial straitjacket. She has not only lost her voice, she has lost her reason.

However, Readers, be of good cheer. Piers Morgan, the man who is so far up Trump’s arse that even his shoelaces have disappeared from view, has the solution! He tweeted it on Thursday night. ‘I’ve given this a lot of thought & come to the conclusion that only one person can now sort out this ridiculous Brexit mess: @realdonaldtrump. He’d take no sh*t from the EU, or Parliament, or anyone. And he definitely wouldn’t lose his voice. Mr President, my country needs YOU’. Mrs Maybe, it seems, is not the only one who needs a call from the men in white coats.


Let us escape from the asylum for a brief moment and contemplate the fashion follies of the week, starting with the aforesaid Theresa May off to Church on Commonwealth Day, wearing a Daniel Blake coat and Liz Felix hat.

WTF aficionado Tom from London discovered this assault on our eyeballs. How bad does she look? What is that hat? Why does the coat have leg-of-mutton sleeves? Daniel Blake and Liz Felix are clearly both diehard Remainers. What about those gloves, and the matchy-matchy clutch, and the chunky jewellery? As WTF aficionado Jen sagely observed, our Prime Minister would do better spending less time accessorising, and more time sorting out Brexit. Meanwhile Tom also sent in the portrait of Lady Margaret Hawkins from the late 16th century to show where May got her inspiration. Are the two ladies related? They certainly have the same grim expression. Bravo Tom!

Next we have socialite and DJ, Paris Hilton, wearing Christian Cowan.

Paris is not sporting rabbit ears – that is part of the backdrop –  but the rest of the ensemble is so comical that it would not be surprising if she were. There is a cornucopia of crapulence to behold, including the Afghan hound bunches, the hideous, too-long, onesie, and the criminally horrible handbag. When your pooch is better dressed than you are, it is time for a radical rethink.

Also also wearing Christian Cowan, model and now TV presenter Heidi Klum

Heidi is dressed as Gonger from Sesame Street. Extra minus points for those painful-looking sandals.

To London and the Global Awards 2019, where we come across singer Mabel McVey, wearing Natasha Zinko.

Here is a WTF Rule. When you have to stand with your hand over your crotch to avoid a Fanny Flash, there is something wrong with your outfit. And with you for wearing it. Quite apart from that, the dress is ugly and it doesn’t fit.

Here is Orange is the New Black actress Natasha Lyonne, wearing Marc Jacobs.

Some of us lived through the Eighties, and have no desire to go back there, sartorially speaking. The shoulders are ridiculous and the whole thing is very Princess Di.

This is Khloe Kardashian wearing LaQuan Smith. Well, I say ‘wearing’….

Mingetastic. Indeed it is all there to be looked at, with more gynaecological detail on view than a week’s CCTV footage from a knocking shop. 

And finally, we meet French actress Angelique Boyer, wearing a reversible dress by George Figueroa. She started off the night wearing this side of it.

Then she turned it around. To this.

Thanks to aficionado Jonathan from Bloomsbury, who kindly brought this outfit to WTF’s attention. The front was moderately respectable. The back was not even a back. She looks like a sparkler with belly button and tits.


This week’s It’s Got to Go comes from WTF aficionado Rona from Hackney, who complains about the horror of the unisex toilet. Such is the excellence of her rant, that WTF repeats it in full.

‘So I’m dining out in a delightful restaurant and the moment has come to visit the powder room. Cue what should be a restful and fragrant interlude of indulgent femininity – the chance to literally powder one’s nose, reapply lipstick, perfume, adjust clothing, have a cry or a giggle or a gossip. But now it’s unisex and what woman wants to do all that in the company of some bloke she’s never met, or worse, has met? Not to mention the horrors of some, I repeat some, gentlemen’s toilet habits, which, shall we say, are less than fastidious. So what we have is a stripped back-to-the-essentials experience that needs to be got through asap. This is the very opposite of civilised and, sadly, it is yet another example of the slow erosion of those little rituals which can make everything seem so much more pleasurable.’

Indeed. It’s Got To Go.


OK Readers, that’s your lot for this week. Keep sending your splendid comments as well as your 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, David Cameron, Donald Trump, Fashion, Fashion Disasters, Princess Diana, Theresa May, Uncategorized, Worst Dressed Celebrities | Tagged , , , , , , | 4 Comments

The Death of Shame, Volume 99

Hallo Readers,

Those of you who are kind enough to read this blog regularly will know that WTF is obsessed with the death of shame in public life. This week brought two more stark examples to recoil from.

First, Fiona Onasanya MP recently was absent from her duties on behalf of the people of Peterborough. Not to have a baby. Not because she was ill. No. Onasanya was in prison, having been convicted of persuading her brother falsely to claim that he had been speeding in her car, thereby perverting the course of justice. Onasanya, who was a solicitor, now has the dubious distinction of being the first serving woman MP to go inside. She was released last week on parole, and is obliged to wear a tag on her ankle, which must play havoc with the House of Commons’ security scanners.

Because she was only sentenced to three months, (she served half of it), Onasanya does not have to give up her seat,  a condition applicable only to those sentenced to twelve months or more. As a result, a convicted criminal is free to vote on legislation and to pontificate on whatever point she chooses in the Chamber. Admittedly most politicians are liars, but they have not been banged up, they do not go bleep every time they walk in and out of Parliament, and they have not inhabited the equivalent of Cell Block H. Does Onasanya intend to resign? Of course not. After her conviction, she compared her tribulations to those of Jesus. WTF is not very conversant with the New Testament, but she is fairly certain that if He had been caught speeding on his donkey along Nazareth High Street, he would have ‘fessed up and not got Peter or John to take the blame for it.

And then there is the one-man wrecking ball that is Chris Grayling MP, Secretary of State for Transport. When we last left him, he had awarded a £14m emergency post-Brexit ferry contract to a new company with no ferries, something which he did not see as a problem, not at all, not even when the company’s standard terms and conditions turned out to have been copied from a food delivery business. On the contrary, Grayling insisted that there had been proper due diligence. A month after the furore, the contract was scuttled when it became apparent that the company had no ferries AND no financial backing. However, these were only the foothills of the fuck-ups of which Grayling is capable, and he was just warming up. This week, it emerged that the Government, (that means us, UK Readers, our money, our taxes, handed over to imbeciles to squander), had to hand £33m to Eurotunnel in an out-of-court settlement in compensation for its future loss of business, were the emergency ferries Grayling had commissioned, not that one of the companies involved actually had a bloody ferry, ever to set sail across the Channel to dodge the 100 mile queues consequent upon a no-deal, no Customs-Union Brexit. Grayling did not even go to the Commons to justify this latest calamity, and sent the Secretary of State for Health instead, who was then roasted like a saddle of lamb. Is Grayling about to resign? Not a bit of it. Apparently, the City of Calais has made it clear that he is not wanted there. He isn’t wanted here either. Sadly, we are stuck with him.


We begin our sartorial survey with a trip to Paris Fashion Week, and actress Amber Heard, wearing Giambattista Valli.

Whilst better than some of Heard’s recent attire, this is still terrible. It is like recovering from a stomach infection and then succumbing to thrush. The dress looks like a very elderly flamingo on its way to the knacker’s yard.

Also wearing Giambattista Valli, actress and singer, Janelle Monáe.

She has got a fez on her head, like the late, lamented, comedian Tommy Cooper, and she appears to be wrapped in a collapsed parachute, displaying some fetching décolletage.

This is former model Elena Perminova, now married to squillionaire oligarch Alexander Lebedev. Elena is wearing Balmain.

Elena is very beautiful and has a pair of legs to die for, but this dress is a dud. It is basically no more than a vest and a quilted fanny flap. And what happens if she were to wear it to the theatre? There will be an encroachment into the seat on her right. People get upset at having their space invaded in this way. Just saying…

Here is actress Shailene Woodley, also wearing Balmain.

The 1980’s are back. We have former Home Secretary Amber Rudd calling a black MP, ‘coloured’ (see below), and now Balmain is marketing these hideous acid-washed jeans that sag around Shailene’s hips like a denim sack.

Away from Paris, we have American TV squeaky person Kristin Chenoweth, wearing who can even say what?

We had Megan Pormer with faux-pubes last week, and now we have more faux-pubes on Kristin. These are worse because they appear to be more, er, hairy. Kristin has also shown a certain cowardice in wearing little flesh-coloured shorties and bra, which match each other but not her skintone, which puts the tan into tangerine.

We now encounter young actress Baillee Madison, wearing Emporio Armani.

What the hell is this? She appears to be sitting in a sea of snot. This is just terribly terribly, terrible. In fact, it left terrible some distance back and is now travelling through ‘what the actual fuck’?

Meet Canadian actor Avan Jogia, wearing Sies Maran.

If a teddybear went to a fancy dress party as Freddie Mercury, this is what it would look like.

And finally, a truly horrible sight. Two of the cream of British womanhood, although in their case they are closer to skimmed milk, glamour models and celebritees, Rhianne Saxby and Sarah Longbottom. Rhianne is in black. Sarah is in white with her right nipple on show.


Fake hair, fake tits, fake tan and lips like rubber tyres. See through. Nip slips. Horrible.


This week’s It’s Got To Go is from WTF aficionado Linda from South London, who took great exception to former Home Secretary, now Secretary of State for Work and Pensions, Amber Rudd, using the word ‘coloured’ to describe Diane Abbott MP, a black member of the Labour Shadow Cabinet. The irony is that Rudd was actually trying to defend Abbott against the bucketful of abuse she receives from psychopathic racist wankers various, as well as sticking up for other female MPs.

Unsurprisingly, Abbott took a poor view of Rudd’s  use of the word ‘coloured’, describing it as ‘telling’. Rudd probably did not meant use that word but, honestly. The word has not been in accepted use for decades, and a Cabinet Minister has no business speaking it aloud on public radio. Or at all. Every time Rudd opens her mouth, she puts her foot in it.  She’s Got To Go.


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


Posted in Brexit, Celebrity, Celebrity Fashion Disasters, Chris Grayling, Fashion, Fashion Awards, Fashion Disasters, Fiona Onasanya, Paris Fashion Week, Uncategorized, Worst Dressed Celebrities | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

WTF Oscars Red Carpet Special

Hallo Readers,

The President of the United States is a liar (8,500 proven lies since taking office two years ago), a racist, a shyster and also happened to be the colour of a nuclear tangerine, but such is the new normal that most people no longer bat an eyelid one at anything he says or does, however obnoxious, disgusting or ridiculous. But things are changing. After two years of supine right wing nutters controlling the House of Representatives, the Democrats have power and are holding a series of hearings questioning Michael Cohen, Trump’s former lawyer, who has now turned on him. Cohen is an unsavoury blend of Tom Hagen, the Corleone lawyer in The Godfather, and Ray Donovan, the eponymous Hollywood fixer on the telly. Cohen came to public notice last year when he claimed to have paid porn star Stormy Daniels $130,000 of his own money, unknown to his client,  in order to silence her claim that she and Trumpy had made the beast with two backs a decade earlier. It then turned out that Trump had known about it, although he had previously denied it. Next we learned that Trump authorised Cohen to silence Stormy, repaying him in a series of cheques. Trump then claimed that Non Disclosure Agreements were standard for billionaires like himself, and he had not breached campaign finance laws by paying her off to make himself look like a loyal husband and father to the electorate.  The current version of the story seems to be that although Cohen pleaded guilty to campaign fraud at the behest of Individual 1, (aka Donald J Trump), there was no crime. Because people, especially lawyers advised by other lawyers, always plead guilty to non-existent crimes. Cohen also pleaded guilty to lying to Congress about a possible Trump Tower in Moscow. In the campaign, Trump claimed that he had never had any interest in Russia. Cohen said on oath last year that any interests were over before 2016. (In the US, it is a crime to lie to Congress. Here, lie to Parliament and they put you in the Cabinet). Cohen also coughed to a number of other shystery  activities like tax evasion, and is off to prison in May to do a three-year stretch.

When Cohen gave public evidence to the House Oversight Committee on Wednesday, he had names, dates and documents, and for nine hours, he sang his little heart out. He had the cheques reimbursing him for Stormy. He had mortgage application forms showing Trump lying about his assets. He had papers indicating that Trump got someone to buy his portrait at a charity auction for $60,000 and then repaid him from his charitable foundation. He described tax fraud and a cornucopia of criminality. The Republicans on the Committee had one tactic – calling Cohen a liar and a convicted criminal. The problem is, he agreed with them. Their outrage at his calling Trump a liar was delicious and dispiriting to behold in equal measure. 

There now appears to be a glimmer of light at the end of the stinking rancid tunnel into which Trump has dragged us. It sometimes takes a crook to nail another crook and the nails were going into the coffin like an undertakers’ workshop. Committees various will now be all over Trump’s business dealings, his tax returns and his  bank accounts like a rash. Trump’s money man, Alan Weisselberger, who has immunity, is testifying in public on Wednesday.  And we still have Mueller’s report and further investigations by the New York authorities to come. Settle back in your seats. Bring popcorn. This is going to be fun.


We’re off to the Oscars to consider a dozen shocking specimens from the Red Carpet and the various after-parties. We begin with singer Pharrell Williams, wearing Richard Mille and a Chanel necklace, seen here with his wife Helen Lasichanh. Helen looks fine.

Ah! There was a time when Pharrell graduated to long trousers, but he has lapsed back into shorts again, looking like an extra from Apocalypse Now.

Another singer, Leona Lewis, wearing Christian Siriano.

The colour is pretty but the shape is baffling and the fabric is hideous. The best that WTF can suggest is that this is a negligee with its own built – in headboard. And can women please stop sticking their leg out à la Angelina Jolie? It’s boring now, and it cannot be good for your hips.

Actress Maya Rudolph, wearing Giambattista Valli.

Leona is wearing the headboard. Maya is wearing the bedspread.

Let’s complete the bedroom trilogy with Chadwick Boseman, wearing Givenchy.

Had this been a jacket, it would have been lovely. Except that it isn’t a jacket, it is a sort of frock coat – cum- dressing gown, worn with a long black scarf which swoops past his groin almost down to his patellae. Even Donald Trump doesn’t wear his ties as long as that. All in all, there are too many things dangling at random.

Awkwafina, wearing DSquared2.

The scarf makes her look as if she has no neck, the hair makes her look as if she has no shoulders, the trousers make her look as if as she has no feet and the shine of the material could illuminate a whole street. Whoever did the cutting, and then the fitting, must have imbibed a few before picking up the scissors and the pins.

Model Heidi Klum, wearing Elie Saab.

You can always count on Heidi to wear something terrible on Oscars night, and this is no exception. She looks like a crow that has survived some very botched chest surgery.

Rita Ora, wearing Alexander McQueen.

Well of course Rita was amongst the worst dressed. When is she not? The top half is 19th century Wyoming saloon floozy and the bottom half is 21st century minge mask.

Megan Pormer, wearing Iris van Herpen.

Good question. Who the hell IS Megan Pormer? To be brutally frank, lovey, if you turn up on Oscars night and you have to tell people who you are, you shouldn’t bother turning up at all. This outfit falls into the category of get-yourself-noticed-at-all-costs, complete with deeply unnerving faux-pubes. And if WTF were going out (un)dressed like that, she would want to hide her face as well.

Designer Tommy Hilfiger wearing Tommy Hilfiger, and his wife, designer Dee Ocleppo

What a tosser. Keen Readers may recall that last year Tommy put Lewis Hamilton into a lairy tartan kilt and he now has used the off cuts to make himself this ridiculous suit, worn with dainty velvet slippers like George IV before he got gout. As for his spouse, what is that thing in her hand? It looks like a golden walkie-talkie.

Actress Linda Cardellini, wearing Schiaparelli. 

Good grief. It’s Red from the Angry Birds Movie in a mullet skirt.

Supermodel Kendall Jenner, hardly wearing Rami Kadi.

OK, Readers with your eyes out on stalks, Kendall is stunning with amazing everything, but this is not a dress, it is a loincloth complete with an imminent minge moment. There is more pelvis on display than in a midwives’ midterm test paper.

And finally, Billy Porter wearing Christian Siriano.

It’s magnificent and mad at the same time. If Scarlett O’Hara went to a fancy dress party as Fred Astaire AND Ginger Rogers, this is what she would look like.


This week’s It’s Got To Go is from WTF aficionado Yvonne from Jedburgh who brought this horror to light, as featured in a tweet from S Rifai (@THE_47th)

It’s like something out of Jurassic Park. Over to S Rifai’s for his/her observations ‘You get married, have a kid, you read him a story every night until elementary school, you support him through HS, be there throughout his formative and teenage years through all the ups and downs..and one day he comes back to lunch wearing this thing’ Agreed. They’ve Got To Go.


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















Posted in Celebrity, Celebrity Fashion Disasters, Donald Trump, Fashion, Fashion Disasters, Michael Cohen, Oscars, Uncategorized, US Election, Worst Dressed Celebrities | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

WTF Brits and Bobs Special


Hallo Readers,

The British Body Politic, which had been ailing for some time, has finally succumbed to massive organ failure and is currently on life support, hooked up to those machines that go beep, beep, beep, like you see on the telly. The left side of the Body Politic started leaking, with eight constituent elements becoming detached. The diagnosis was a lethal mixture of Corbynitis, acute-non-Brexititis and antisemitism. On the right side of the Body Politic, three constituent elements detached themselves. The diagnosis was acute-non-Brexititis, extreme-anti-Moggery and a dislike of Mrs Maybe and her intolerance of immigrants various. Doctors in white coats are running one way shouting ‘we are a broad church’ whilst other doctors are running the other way shouting ‘we’ve got the malign bits out and now we can heal’. When the medics cannot even agree on the diagnosis, let alone the treatment, the prognosis is not good.

It has been a long time coming. In the Labour Party, Trots various called MPs who appeared to support a second referendum and/or the existence of the State of Israel, traitorous Blairite scum and urged them to leave the party. Now that they have resigned, they are being called traitorous Blairite scum for leaving. In the Tory Party, the three MPS who opposed Brexit were described as the enemy within and saboteurs. Now they have resigned, they are being attacked for deserting the party that needs them. There is no pleasing some people. And it is clear that in the days to come, others will follow, both Labour and Conservative. The Body Politic is bleeding out and there is a shortage of needles, suturing thread and anaesthetic. 

Antisemitism has plagued the Labour Party for a long time, and Corbyn stuck a few plasters over the wound rather than wield the scalpel. On the day seven MPs resigned, to general crowing cries of good riddance from some, and weasel words from others, the party readmitted Derek Degsy Hatton, a rabid Trot from the 1980’s who did his best to run Liverpool into the ground. Sadly, Hatton’s triumphant return only lasted two days before he was suspended over an alleged antisemitic tweet from 2012.  You couldn’t make it up, and you wouldn’t want to.  As for Brexit, there is no sticking plaster large enough to cover that wound, no kidney bowl deep enough to hold the pus leaking from it. There is no point calling for the crash cart. The patient is acystolic. Beep, beep, beeeeeeeepppppppppppppppp. Time of death March 29 2019.


We start our review of the week’s fashion flotsam with singer Paloma Faith wearing No 21.

Oh dear. Oh very dear. Paloma looks like one of those cheap bathroom sets you can buy for £10 – bathmat, toilet mat and loo seat cover. We can but pray that no-one tried to wipe their feet – or worse- on her.

Next up, we have artist Lyali Hakaraia.  WTF has no idea what the hell this is. No idea at all.

WTF does not mind a man in drag as long as he looks good and has a certain swagger, but Lyali does not just look like a sack of shit, he looks positively creepy. He is wearing a prick-skimmer as a skirt, which is quite bad enough, Lord knows, but worst are the nude shoes, beloved by so many of the Royal Family, particularly St Kate of L K Bennett. WTF’s advice to Lyali is to button his coat and bugger off.

Kim Kardashian wearing vintage Thierry Mugler.

Easter is edging ever closer, but that does not excuse Kim going around dressed as a hot cross bun.

And look how tight those straps are. Her cups runneth over. The whole thing looks extremely painful and when she disrobed at the end of the night, the imprimatur must have lingered for days.

We now go to the Brits, the poor man’s UK version of the Grammys, where nonsense was all around. Let us begin with singer Sam Smith ,wearing Raf Simons.

Whoever told Sam that he looked good in this suit was not his friend. The colour is nice and the lace shirt is fun, but there is moose knuckle on display beneath the ill-fitting, Norman-Wisdom-style, way-too-short jacket, and the trousers are in a Mexican standoff with his ankles.

Singer Leigh-Anne Pinnock from Little Mix, wearing Suzanne Neville.

One can understand why Leigh-Anne wants to show off her body, because she a fab figure, but she has pitched up in public looking like one of those Hawaiian dancing girls that greet you in the lobby of a Honolulu hotel and drape you with leis. 

Singer Olly Alexander.

Like a public schoolboy dressed up as Edward VI in the school play. Dismal.

Singer Grace Carter, wearing a flasher mac.

Was there no cloakroom at the event?

Singer Lily Allen , heading to the after party in her undies and a blonde wig.

WTF had the misfortune to read an article in which Lily described how she had to have her nipples waxed (ouch!) before donning this outfit, which appears to consist of a pair of Spanx Power Panties underneath a deceased flamingo. The whole thing is very cut-price Diana Dors. (Did you know Diana Dors’ real name was Diana Fluck? Just saying…)

Performance artist Daniel Lismore, wearing dunno what.

If Yosemite Sam went to a fancy dress party as a space-age Turandot, this is what he would look like.

And finallyMontana Brown. celebritee and ‘star’ of that pile of steaming poo, Love Island, wearing Cherry Williams London.

WTF compliments Montana’s waxing technician, who has removed everything with great thoroughness. She is however forced to be somewhat sterner with Cherry Williams, whose poor handiwork has resulted in Montana sporting a shocking wedgie…. #nomorearsecheeks. Pretty please.



This week’s It’s Got To Go is from WTF aficionado WTF who is deeply appalled by this Burberry hood. You want bad taste. Look no further than the Noose Hood, premiered during London Fashion Week.

What the actual fuck? When did hanging become fashionable? When did a noose become a fashion accessory? What the hell is wrong with these people? What next? An axe sticking out of someone’s head? Burberry has withdrawn this nonsense but it should never have seen the light of day in the first place. It’s Got To Go.


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


Posted in Antisemitism, Brexit, Brits, Celebrity, Celebrity Fashion Disasters, Duchess of Cambridge, Fashion, Fashion Awards, Fashion Disasters, Jacob Rees-Mogg, Labour Party, Politics, Uncategorized, Worst Dressed Celebrities | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 8 Comments

WTF Mega-Super-Ginormous Grammys Special

Hallo Readers

Until recently, Boris Johnson was not known for his ability as a conjurer. As an adulterer, certainly. As a liar, definitely.  As someone lazy and unwilling to read his brief, without question. But not as a conjurer. However, one is never too old to be surprised, usually unpleasantly, and Johnson’s ability to make money disappear into thin air (not dishonestly, just by being utter rubbish at his job) has been highlighted by the detailed breakdown of the £53 million spent during his tenure as Mayor of London on the Garden Bridge, a nonsensical leafy white elephant that was supposed to provide pedestrian access across the Thames by Temple Station. We all knew that Johnson could waste money – remember the £331,000 spent on three water cannon that were never deployed and were sold for £11,000? But at least there were three actual water cannon, albeit that they were never actually used because Theresa May, then the Home Secretary, blocked it. In the case of the Garden Bridge, there is not so much as a slab of concrete or a potted plant to show for it. The whole thing was a monument to Johnson’s ego and the old-pals act that allowed family friend Joanna Lumley to gain access to the Mayor and persuade him to commission her long-held dream of an oversized folly, London’s version of Kubla Khan’s Stately Pleasure Dome (And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills, Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree); except that Kubla Khan paid for his one himself. The design exercise was slanted in favour of architects Thomas Heatherwick, although they had never built a major bridge; of the three firms asked to tender designs, only Heatherwick got the tip-off that the bridge was supposed to be a garden bridge and not an ordinary bridge. Contracts were handed out like goodies at a kids’ birthday party. The Garden Bridge Trust was set up and fully staffed.  It was like a giant bran tub of business opportunities. 

They say that it is an ill-wind that blows nobody any good, and never was this so true as in this case. Thomas Heatherwick & Co were paid £2.7m. Designers, planners, engineers, consultants and technical specialist company Arup was paid £12.4 million. French contractors contractors Bouygues Travaux Publics and Cimolai SpA were paid 21.4 million, including £2.1 million for ‘costs suffered … and charged to the Garden Bridge Trust for the demobilisation of staff, offices and repatriation of plant and labour’. £1.3 million was spent on boreholes and looking for unexploded bombs. Some bloke got £330,000 for designing the leafy bits that were going on top of the bridge. £166,000 was spent on designing the website. The Garden Trust management ended up with £1.7 million in salaries for not raising enough money to build the thing they were being paid to oversee the building of. And of course m’Learned Friends did not miss out – they pocketed £2.3 million, laid in the Krug and purchased new Ferraris and charming holiday cottages in scenic spots. Even the bloke who paid £3,200 to play table tennis with Johnson is getting his money back. But Readers, do you know who aren’t getting their money back? The taxpayers. The council tax payers. The People in London (who are both council tax payers and tax payers). They all shelled out for something that isn’t there, and continue to shell out for Johnson’s pension as Mayor and his salary as an MP.  If only he had never materialised. At least the Garden Bridge looked nice.


Our weekly survey of sartorial shite takes us to the Grammys, where shockingness was in abundance like summer fruit in an orchard. We begin with Kylie Jenner, wearing Balmain Haute Couture.

This appears to be a candy pink designer straitjacket, worn with very unflattering trousers and pink Marigold washing up gloves.


More pink, this time on Tayla Parx,  wearing granny’s bedspread. 

Let us hope that Tayla’s granny is not suffering from the cold, what with her granddaughter swiping her cuddly bedcover (or is it a slanket?), and pairing it with colourfully-hued sneakers. 

 Ben Harper  wearing who can even say what this is?

Ben is of African-American and Cherokee ancestry on his father’s side and his mother is Jewish, but for reasons best known to himself, he turned up dressed like a greeter from a Tijuana flophouse. 

Meghan Trainor, wearing Christian Siriano.

WTF tried to think how this could be any more unflattering and then gave up. Meghan looks like the abominable snowman with tits…. and boy, she seems miserable. 

And now an outbreak of Trump twattery, starting with the ridiculous Ricky Rebel, wearing Andre Soriano.

Andre Soriano specialises in designing ridiculous outfits for ridiculous non-persons to ensure that they get their picture taken at events such as this one. Ricky is a campaigner for LGBT rights. Has he ever had a chat with Mike and Karen Pence and the #MAGA mob, all of whom think he is going to burn in hell? WTF would not advise Ricky to walk into a Trump Rally dressed like this or he might never get out alive.

And here is serial offender Joy Villa.  Joy usually wears Andre Soriano on these occasions, but this time she is wearing Desi Designs.

Oh for Heaven’s sake.  Is she appearing in some sort of Alt-Right version of A Midsummer’s Night Dream?

Pyramus:- O kiss me through the hole of this vile wall.

Thisbe:- [Kneeling to kiss him through the Wall.] I kiss the wall’s hole, not your lips at all.

Post Malone, wearing Ashton Michael and matching bootees by Scott Wayne.

Something very unpleasant is happening in the crotch department, the pink belt is camper than a Village People revival and only Barbie should be seen in pink boots. And probably not even her. Meanwhile, if there one thing WTF cannot abide above all things, even above a neck tattoo, it is a face tattoo.  WHY??????

Katy Perry, wearing Balmain Haute Couture.

Katy has an innate genius for getting it wrong. Like here. Balmain has managed to make her look like Mr Blobby.

Leon Bridges, wearing Bode.

Apparently, this suit is covered in badges of places in Texas, his home State, that mean something to him. That is as maybe, but he looks like a boy scout who has outgrown his trousers…. 

Stylist Jeannie Mai, wearing Balmain.

Yawn. Next. 

Cardi B’s younger sister, ‘social media star’ Hennessy Carolina, wearing not enough.

Like a tangerine Pantomime boy. The pointy minge guard is excessively …er….labial.

And Cardi B herself, wearing vintage Mugler Haute Couture.

In the immortal  words of Cheese, a character in one of WTF’s favourite films, Barry Levinson’s  Tin Men, “there’s definitely some sort of sickness that runs in that family…..”

Andra Day, wearing Cheng-Huai Chuang.

If Phoebe from Sesame Street went to a fancy dress party as a stripper, this is what she would look like.

Finally, here is music engineer and distinguished former winner of the WTF Summer Stinker 2016,  Shawn Everett, looking like a right idiot. No change there….

WTF is struggling to understand what is going on here, but has concluded that Shawn is very excited about the upcoming finale of Game of Thrones and has come dressed as Ser Gregor Clegane, aka The Mountain.


This week’s It’s Got To Go is from WTF aficionado Humfrina who is aghast at the horror that is the Marks  & Spencer Love Sausage. Yes really.

As Humfrina observes, this speaks for itself. M&S decided to mark Valentine’s Day by marketing the Love Sausage. Ooh er missus…. This is more a case of Carry on Up The Khyber than Casablanca and It’s Got To Go.


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


Posted in Boris Johnson, Celebrity, Celebrity Fashion Disasters, Garden Bridge, Grammys, Politics, Uncategorized, Worst Dressed Celebrities | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments