Hallo Readers,

As you know WTF is a battle-hardened old baggage when it comes to clothes. She would have to be, given that every Friday she brings you fresh examples of shocking sartorial excess but this week has brought an array of female body parts so repulsive that it was all she could do to retain the contents of her stomach. So before you read on, make sure that you have access to (i) a receptacle (ii) rehydration salts and (iii) the telephone number of a healthcare professional.

Once upon a time, female stars (people with talent and famous for that talent) would be photographed on the Red Carpet, probably showing some cleavage whilst looking sophisticated and elegant. Then several things happened. First, the definition of “star” was broadened to include all manner of nonentities, talentless bimbos from TV reality shows, soap actresses and slappers who had slept with celebrities, all of whom saw their chance to seize the limelight in dresses so small that you could stuff more material up a gnat’s bottom.  It got worse. Female singers, even those with talent, decided that their careers depended on writhing about half naked and designers started creating dresses to accommodate the phenomenon of couture sluts. Everyone got into the act, from A lister to Z lister. We started with excessive cleavage. Then we got peekaboo. Then we got sheer. Then we got the Minge Moment and the Tooshie Twinkle.  Now we have a combination of all of them. WTF was criticised last week as sexist for attacking women. Rubbish. It is a matter of principle. It is also a matter of self-respect. Women should be celebrated for what they do, not for what they display. Designers should be celebrated for making beautiful clothes, not for making women look cheap and desperate. To say so is not sexist. It is the very opposite.  Of course you can show some cleavage or some leg (but not both, please). But when you go around showing it all whilst perched on tarts’ trotters, it does not create dignity or encourage respect. Oh, and it looks bloody awful. 

On seeing the next two pictures on @WTF_EEK, @Hollylinny noted that she must have missed the memo directing that dressing gowns were now acceptable as formal wear. To which WTF replied that she wanted to know who wrote the memo. First we have Rita Ora arriving for a night out at the Chateau Marmont in LA.

This is a towelling dressing gown. The hood makes Rita looks like an extra from Mississippi Burning. Which is what she should have done to that dressing gown.  And there is Rihanna who has a marked aversion to anything approximating a full outfit, which presumably is why she wore Alexandre Vauthier, a man incapable of sewing up a front seam, to a pre-Grammys party.

This a silk dressing gown. The gaping top exposes her horrible tattoos and the gaping bottom exposes the fact she has no knickers on. Vile. The Louboutins, however, are yummy. 

Once again we are forced to feature Mrs Robin Thicke, aka actress Paula Patton, also at a Grammys pre-Party and wearing Mireille Dagher.

There is something seriously wrong with those tits in that dress. They are as flat as a couple of Scotch pancakes.

As for the dress itself, it is a trashy version of what Flamenco dancers wear for the benefit of Torremolinos tourists out on an excursion designed to give them ”the total Spanish experience”. Only in this case, the dress reveals the said Caledonian bakery products and a pair of knobbly knees.

As her avatar, @WTF_EEK has Ashanti wearing a red dress with what @debbiegregory4 (and that is your last mention, you fame-hungry thing) accurately christened a c**t strap. Ashanti has never been quite that bad again (unlike @debbiegregory4, of whom the same thing sadly cannot be said) but this Grammys effort by Dar Sara is dire.

Where to start? Her breasts are tumbling out of their tit-guards which also featured on Dar’s dress worn by Angela Simmons at last year’s BET Awards. Then there is the horrible yoni thing and the fact that it is way too short, exposing chunky thighs. Bad. Very bad.

It was only a fortnight ago that WTF brought you shocking strumpet Lady Victoria Hervey at the Golden Globes. And here she is again, this time at a Grammys after-party. Why hasn’t Obama had her deported? The roads to Los Angeles airport would be lined with cheering citizens. Was 1776 all for nothing?

This is in truth a musty net curtain displaying visible belly button (bad), Minge Moment (very bad) and silver slippers (incomprehensible). M’Lady, you are a talentless attention-seeker using up valuable oxygen on an over-crowded planet. Go away.

We pause for this week’s It’s Got To Go suggested by Sue from North London who complains – with every justification – about the announcements made by train staff. We used to be passengers. Now we’re customers. We used to get on and off at stations. Now they’re station stops. As opposed to what? Even if you could open the doors, how many customers are going to alight into a field? Every time you approach a station stop, you are reminded to take your personal belongings with you. Again, as opposed to what? Taking someone else’s personal belongings? Removing the luggage rack? And every time you leave the station stop, someone drones on about what train you’re on and where you’re going (a bit late once you’ve actually left), only to be replaced by someone else who recounts the full menu of hot and cold drinks and tasty toasted sandwiches with all the enthusiasm of Heston Blumenthal talking you through his new dish of snail and banana risotto with a reduction of  sage leaves and an orange foam. This verbiage is annoying. It’s Got To Go.

Next up we have former Pussycat Doll Kaya Jones on the Grammys Red Carpet wearing Andre Soriano.

Rather than changing his name and undergoing plastic surgery in a fit of shame, Andre tweeted his pride that Kaya had worn this skin-tight leather dress featuring double-split genitalia curtains, belly-button-bulge and hooker shoes. Classy…..but only on the Wan Chai waterfront.

Beyoncé is a mega-star and she does not need to flash her fanny but she quite broke WTF’s heart on the Grammys Red Carpet by wearing this foul thing by Michael Costello.

 Here’s the back.

Apparently Michael wanted to evoke New York covered in snowflakes but this is more like peeling plaster. The dress uses flesh-coloured fabric but Beyoncé is black, not grey and the visible seams make her look more scarred than Frankenstein’s Monster. Meanwhile, the last time WTF saw hair like that, it was on a scarecrow.

Finally if you have seen something worse than these two appalling bimbos at some Grammys pre-parties, you might want to consider counselling for PTSD. First we have model and Real Housewife of Miami Joanna Krupa, also wearing Michael Costello. This Michael Costello needs locking up. Fact.

Pretty as she is, WTF suspects that there is very little real about Joanna who admits to having had two boob jobs and several non-invasive procedures including blood injections, Juvederm to straighten her nose and lip injections. All of which sound painful but not nearly as painful as having to look at that dress although, unlike Beyoncé, at least the sheer fabric matches her skin tone.

And then we have the ghastly Paris Hilton wearing something from the Haus of Milani. Haus of Ill Repute more like.

Time was when you could not open a newspaper or magazine without seeing a picture of Paris but in the last few years she has been eclipsed by that other waste of space, Kim Kardashian. Now she is obliged to go out and about half-naked in order to get anyone to look at her at all. 

Like Joanna’s effort, this not so much a dress as a full pelvic examination. Jaime Alexander started this horrible trend at the premiere of Thor late last year wearing Azzaro Couture. Even a gynaecologist would gag.

OK Readers, that’s your lot for this week. Keep those comments coming as well as your suggestions for It’s Got To Go and let us meet again next Friday.

Hallo Readers,

Baroness Trumpington is a feisty old thing. She looks like one of those women in Midsomer Murders entertaining D.I. Barnaby and his sidekick to tea whilst other villagers are murdered in their droves by one of the many homicidal maniacs resident in the parish. She is 91 years young, was one of the code breakers at Bletchley Park and has grown old disgracefully (WTF approves of any member of the House of Lords who gives two fingers IN THE CHAMBER to a fellow Tory who had annoyed her by saying she looked old). She tells the story of appearing in front of a Tory selection committee in Cambridgeshire many moons ago. The interviewers consistently got her name wrong, calling her Mrs Baker not Mrs Barker and then asked her why she was not already an MP. She told them it was because of selection committees like them, burst into tears and walked out. She never did become an MP but eventually she was appointed to the House of Lords as a Tory peer and became Minister of Agriculture at the age of 69. Last Sunday, M’Lady popped up on Sky News discussing why only 22% of MPs are women. Despite her own experiences, she did not feel that the Tories had a problem with women. According to her “if you’ve got it, you’ll get it”. WTF hopes that M’Lady is not one of those women like Baroness Thatcher who, having got to the top of the ladder, then pulls it up behind her. 

Call Me Dave and little Cleggy like to portray themselves as New Men, uxorious and forward thinking but actions speak louder than words. Here are the facts. 16% of Tory MPs are women although the Lib Dems are even worse with 12%. In contrast, 43% of Labour MPs are women. Only 5 women (15%) attend Cabinet (including Baroness Warsi who is not actually a member of it) despite Dave’s promise to have at least one third of his Cabinet female by the end of the Parliamentary term. In which case he had better look snappy about it because there are only 15 months left. We recall little Cleggy’s “handling” of the Lord Rennard fiasco and it was Dave who told Opposition front bencher Angela Eagle to “calm down dear” and on another occasion joked that maverick Tory MP Nadine Dorries was “extremely frustrated”. Oh how we laughed. 

Were further evidence required, we need only look at the recent systematic removal of female Labour members of various QANGOs like Lisa Jardine from the Human Fertilisation & Embryology, Suzi Leather from the Charity Commission, Sally Morgan from Offsted, Liz Forgan from the Arts Council and Diana Warwick from the Human Tissue Authority, all replaced by Tories and not just by Tories but by male Tories. It may be a coincidence. And then again it may just be that Dave and Michael Gove and their cohorts feel more comfortable surrounded by chaps or, deep down, don’t believe that women are really up to it although you have to have a few around to make it look as if you are with the programme.  As for Baroness Trumpington’s view that it is all a question of ability, WTF has two words for you – Grant Shapps. Whatever the explanation for this paucity of women surrounding Dave and little Cleggy, ability ain’t it. 

Many of you are still reeling from last week’s cornucopia of crotch and is it any wonder? This week celebs various were out at Superbowl parties, film premieres and the amFAR Gala showing their all despite the fact that we have already seen it or don’t want to see it or don’t care either way. Here is a good example in the shapely form of actress Tika Sumpter wearing Milly.

The poor girl will catch her death of cold going out in this cutout white leather skirt over black leather hot pants and worn with a bralet more suited to the beach. There is only one word appropriate for this – trashy. Or three words – trashy as fuck.

Going somewhat to the other extreme, we now have Perrie Edwards from Little Mix landing at Heathrow in a most remarkable garment by OnePiece.

This is a giant babygrow (the zip goes from left ankle to right ankle via the crotch) leaving a lot of room to smuggle contraband (HMRC take note) or  to store your iPad, clean knickers and reading matter. WTF also feels compelled to point out that the outfit shortens her legs like one of the Seven Little People with Dwarfism. In her case, Dopey.

We now meet model Alyssa Miller at the amFAR Gala in New York.

A see-through red lace crop top worn with genitalia curtains. Classy.

On the other hand, model Coco Rocha is positively draped in fabric, wearing Jean Paul Gaultier Couture.

For some reason, Coco has chosen to attend the event dressed as Ming the Merciless. What’s with the cape? The whole thing is awfully swirly. Correction  - the whole thing is awful.

Last one from amFAR in the form of the magnificent Vanessa Redgrave and her daughter Joely Richardson.

Vanessa (who looks fantastic at 77) is a picture of elegance. Joely, however, is wearing a nasty nighty from the BHS sale rail. What that flower has to do with anything, WTF cannot say.

WTF is a huge fan of Coronation Street (although it has nearly as many homicides as Midsomer Murders) and loves Beverley Callard who plays tarty pub landlady Liz McDonald. Bev is also a brave campaigner for mental health charities. But….

She looks like an unexploded bomb dropped by some stray Messerschmidt around the time Baroness Trumpington was breaking the Code at Bletchley Park. It is also a tad short. Memo to Bev – Spanx. 

This is model Tyson Beckford. He is gorgeous. His outfit, alas, is not.

A creased silk tuxedo with black silk lapels worn with a wonky bow tie (what IS it with men and wonky bow ties?) leather gloves, pyjama bottoms, red socks and studded slippers. It makes no sense – unless he is sneaking off later to meet up with Joely for a pyjama party.

We pause for this week’s It’s Got To Go in which WTF from Islington wishes to raise the issue of the unequal distribution of genitalia in modern day movies. This week WTF and pals went off to see The Wolf of Wall Street (memo to Martin Scorsese – you could have cut an hour and it would have been better. Just saying). WTF had barely removed the cap from her overpriced mineral water than she got an eyeful of female pudenda in closeup and there was much more as the evening wore on. However, Leonardo di Caprio’s dangly bits  or indeed any bits were not on display and neither were those of any other male character. The men even shagged with their clothes on.

Let me be clear – WTF is not interested in seeing anyone’s naughty bits onscreen although she is sure that Leo’s are very acceptable. But this really is a case is what is sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander. One out, all out - or none at all.

Next up we have Jasmin Walia off TOWIE at the London premiere of Robocop  wearing a “dress” by Rene K Couture.

Couture? This tawdry pelvic peekfest is couture? You might as well say that KFC is haute cuisine. Those of you paying attention will recognise this dress as a carbon copy of the ones featured in last week’s post When Did Women Stop Wearing Proper Clothes Special.  Memo to Jasmin – Paris Hilton and Joanna Krupa are not role models, love. Trust me on this one.

Finally, WTF brings you supermodel Jessica White at the GQ Superbowl Party wearing a Kora Rae bustier and what appears to be a silk nappy….

What the hell are those witches’ flaps? WTF has struggled to find an explanation for Jessica popping up in this preposterous getup and can only conclude that she was planning to jump out of a cake. 

OK Readers, that’s your lot for this week but let us meet again next Friday. Last week the comments came pouring in, making WTF’s heart (and head) swell with pride. More please, as well as your always excellent suggestions for It’s Got To Go. Be Good x

Hallo Readers,

 The Lord ordered Jonah to go to Nineveh and tell its citizens that on account of their drinking and whoring and generally behaving in an unsatisfactory manner, they were due for much smiting and other bad occurrences unless they changed their ways. Jonah, unwilling to undertake this task, legged it and boarded a ship bound for Tarshish. The Lord was displeased and raised a mighty storm which threatened the safety of the ship and the crew were much afeared. Jonah then confessed that he was the cause of the storm and told them to toss him overboard. “So they took up Jonah, and cast him forth into the sea: and the sea ceased from her raging. Then the men feared the Lord exceedingly, and offered a sacrifice unto the Lord, and made vows.” Meanwhile, the Lord arranged for a large fish to swallow Jonah and after 3 days of living inside its innards, which, when you think about it, must have been quite shit, it spewed him out onto dry land. Which just goes to show that it is no good running away because you only make life harder for yourself and others and end up covered in vomit.

The weather has been positively biblical in the last few weeks with torrential rains, floods and hail although some have had it far worse than others. The South West copped it first with villages cut off and water at waist height for weeks. Not much happened in terms of help. Then the Home Counties, the Tory heartlands, also copped it and suddenly the beleaguered residents of Surrey and Berkshire could not wade through their living rooms without catching a glimpse of a politician in Hunter wellies and artfully distressed rain jacket standing in what used to be their front garden, clucking sympathetically and looking pained for the benefit of the media. And still nothing much happened. Someone had to be tossed overboard and as far as the Cabinet was concerned, there was only one candidate, Chris Smith the Chairman of the Environment Agency. On Sunday, Yorkshire Pudding Eric Pickles, whom Shakespeare might have had in mind when he described Falstaff as a “Gross Fat Man…as fat as butter”, popped up on TV and blamed the Environment Agency. Eric also briefed against the Environment Secretary Owen Patterson who was in hospital with a rather well-timed detached retina. Both Patterson and Smith fought back, at which point Dave sent Eric to the House of Commons to explain that when he said that the Environment Agency could not ensure the safety of a rubber duck in a bathtub, what he meant was that it was doing a fantastic job and as for Owen Patterson, they were like brothers from different mothers. In which case one shudders to think what their father must have looked like. However, Eric and Call Me Dave and the rest of the crew have pointedly failed to utter a word in support of Smith and one fears that his QANGO days are numbered. Close your eyes and you can see poor Chris grasping the side of the dinghy whilst Eric and Owen and the rest smack at his fingers with their oars. As for the soggy residents of the flood plains, their pain continues whilst politicians fight each other like ferrets in a sack. Frankly, when the Good Lord considers chucking some vomit about, He could start at Westminster where a goodly selection of candidates awaits His selection.

We turn from natural disasters to sartorial ones starting with actress Imogen Poots wearing Marc Jacobs.

The dress is pretty but where is the lining? Because it sure as hell needs one.

We now meet Jennifer Hudson wearing Balmain.

Jennifer lost about 80 lbs a few years back. Congratulations and all that but is it not time that she stopped ramming it down our throats by parading about in itsy-bitsy, and in this case titsy, designer tat? No one should flash her bra except when modelling lingerie and there is no  excuse for those tights.

WTF cannot understand why Z Lister Lizzie Cundy is invited everywhere. You cannot avoid the woman. Be that as it may, she has sunk to a new low.

Those are not trousers. They are not even leggings, jeggings, treggings or any other sort of ings.  They are very shiny tights worn with a shiny jumper, a sequinned bomber jacket and suede boots. Appalling. 

We skip over to New York Fashion Week where nastiness abounded. First our old friend, fashionista J Alexander wearing I know not what.

There are no words. None.

We now meet singer Kelly Rowland wearing this extraordinary ensemble by Houghton.

These are very ridiculous trousers. Why are they so large? Have accountants not given Houghton advice on stock control? The fabric is cheap and slithery, there is excessive boobage and WTF is at a loss to explain  either the golden doorknob necklace or the pointy silver pumps. The traffic cone looks better dressed.

This week’s It’s Got To Go is prompted by an outraged @sairsebourke whose retinas have been assaulted by the Russian Winter Olympic Team uniform for the Sochi Games.

Frankly, such is Ms Bourke’s eloquence that WTF can do no better than to quote her verbatim: “It takes oligarch chavvy chic to new lows. The men’s curling trousers are particularly noteworthy. Whoever designed those horrors deserves a one way ticket to Siberia. Having spent $30bn on the games, they surely could have held back on a few bungs to Putin’s mates and nipped to Lillywhites”. WTF agrees and has nothing to add.

We next renew our acquaintance with former model, Chanel muse and DJ, Leigh Lezark wearing Jeremy Scott whilst attending Jeremy’s show. 

This outfit would only be appropriate were Leigh headed to a Marquis de Sade Memorial Perve-Up. That bra is particularly disturbing.

Next up we have two  fashionistas both wearing the same Prada dress. On the left is another old friend Anna dello Russo editor-at-large of Vogue Japan and on the right is a newcomer to these pages, former model Giovanna Battaglia, now the editor of L’Uomo Vogue.

WTF has previously commented most unfavourably on the ghastly Prada furry coats with faces on them, as seen so far on Anna, Marc Jacobs and Anna Wintour and and she is no better disposed towards this very silly frock with its Mickey-Mouse-Ears tit detail. Giovanna looks marginally better by reason of the fun earrings on the dress and because her legs are covered up and, unlike Anna, she is not displaying kninckled knees the colour of stewed tea and sporting a fascinator like a wilted goldfish.

Meet actress and star of Frances Ha, Greta Gerwig, wearing Lanvin at the Berlin Film Festival.

Gathered hips are rarely a good idea, even on someone skinny and Greta also seemed to have have inspired by Brienne of Tarth from Game of Thrones, the fantasy programme in which people fuck each other senseless before indulging in some major evisceration whilst filling the air with bloodthirsty cries.  Frankly, Greta’s stylist deserves to go head to head with Brienne – in HD.

Finally, WTF is compelled to bring you Mariah Carey who appeared at the BET Honors Awards wearing a dress by Rubin Singer. 

There is an imminent danger of spilth equivalent to that which hit the Somerset levels and although Rubin has tried to stem the flow with a flesh coloured halter strap, it is simply not up to the job of containing Mariah’s mammoth mammaries. WTF also suggests that next time, if there is a next time, Mariah should contemplate taking a size up.

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

Hallo Readers,

There are a lot of sartorial shockers to get through this week and no room for It’s Got To Go but WTF must say a few words about Arsenal star striker Olivier Giroud, glamour model Celia Kay (who is not Mme Giroud) and those classy chronicles, The Sun and The Irish Sun.  None of them emerges with  any credit.

Giroud is a handsome Frenchman earning about £100K a week and in France he and his wife are seen as a devoted couple with a new baby and given lots of publicity. On 1 February, the Arsenal players were staying in the Four Seasons hotel in Canary Wharf before the game against Crystal Palace but rather than getting a good night’s sleep, Giroud was romping with Celia and her 34D plastic knockers, although they both deny actually having sex. He didn’t score on the pitch either although he did set up Alex Oxlade-Chamberlain’s second goal. Talking of set-ups, Celia was photographed entering the hotel at 12 50 am and leaving the hotel at 3 05 am and the following week her “story” appeared in The Sun on Sunday where she described Olivier’s manly attributes and their time together. WTF does not think much of women flashing their bits for a living and thinks even less of women flogging their sex lives to Rupert Murdoch and she is not big on adulterers either so at present the story is not going well. And it gets worse.

After the story appeared, lads various tweeted their approbation along the lines of  “Cor, look at the pair on her, she’d definitely get it” but Olivier denied that Celia had ever been in his hotel bedroom, at which point Arsenal instructed Messers Shyster, Shyster and Shyster to fire off letters threatening all manner of legal action. Celia countered with a picture from her phone showing Olivier emerging from the bathroom clad only in his pants. As they say on Match of the Day, game over.  The Irish Sun splashed the picture over its front page linking the romp to Arsenal’s 5-1 thrashing at Liverpool, thus implying that the romp had been the night before that debacle rather than the victory over lowly Palace. Olivier was then forced to admit that when he said Celia had not been in his bedroom on 1 February, what he meant was that, er, she had been and he now faces a Club fine of £200K and the (deserved) wrath of Mme Giroud, not to mention Arsenal fans (WTF included) who are outraged at his inability to take to the pitch on Wednesday night (his mind wasn’t right, apparently) when we were pissed on with typically Teutonic efficiency by Bayern Munich. 

Olivier claims to be a devout Christian and whilst WTF is no theologian, she would advise him to revisit the Ten Commandments. Perhaps his real punishment is that, on his version of the facts, he will be fined £200K just for a fumble. The Sun stable has once again shown its devotion to journalistic ethics and the pursuit of the truth. As for Celia, we can confidently expect her to pop up on Celebrity Big Brother Goes Ice Dancing So Get Me Out Of Here in the near future.

Let us look at different sorts of scandal, starting with Kate Mara at the launch of Series 2 of House of Cards (it’s fab) wearing another bloody Prada face dress.

WTF has never been much of a fan of olive green whilst the colour looks horrible against Kate’s pale skin tone and white little legs. However, the principal complaints are the face design, which is spooky and the tit-window, which is vulgar. Miuccia  nel nome del cielo! Basta!

Off to the BAFTAs starting with actress Lara Pulver (best known for getting her kit off in the splendid TV series Sherlock)  wearing Yuvna Kim.

As is often the case, the back is also bad.

The good news is that she is wearing a nude-coloured body. The bad news is that she looks like a semi-plucked chicken with panties and a belt. Oh, and note to Lara – if you are wearing a pair of Louboutins, take the bloody label off the sole. Just saying.

Next we have lovely French actress Lea Seydoux wearing MiuMiu.

Now this is officially a pity because Lea is gorgeous and the dress is a beautiful colour but the mini-dress under the sheer skirt makes her look as if she is standing underwater.

Also present was Swedish actress  Alicia Vikander wearing Chanel.

This is certifiably bonkers. The top is Hiawatha bonbons and the skirt appears to be made out of dessicated coconut. Extra minus points for the belly-button-baring sheer top and those hanging blue things, reminiscent of the frustrating thin nylon straps used to fasten parcels and which you end up having to attack with a carving knife at great risk to your arteries. She’s got some on her sandals too.

Finally from the BAFTAs and this one is bad, bad, bad, we have actress Ruth Wilson wearing Antonio Berardi.

WTF’s brother coined the phrase “galloping wing-itis” to describe shirt collars sticking out at an angle (we’re horrible, our family). Here is a prime example of what he meant. As for the suit, it can best be described as Oscar Wilde meets Star Wars’ R2D2. There may well be a good reason for the groin-bib with red flashes but WTF has no idea what it is, and she looks as if she has been eviscerated.

To the Brits where there were very bad things happening, including Pharrell Williams who appeared yet again with his Lanvin trousers rolled up. It’s getting boring now, love.

Look, there are only three possible explanations. Either he can’t be arsed to shorten his trewies, he can be arsed but he can’t shorten them because they are on loan from Lanvin and they have to go back to be worn by a bigger person the next time round or he is a Freemason. But whichever it is, he looks like a pillock. Pharrell! Wear longer trousers!

Next up, TV presenter Caroline Flack wearing Paper London.

@gazaboatconvoy was so appalled by this ridiculous romper suit that she tweeted WTF on @WTF_EEK to say so. In reply, WTF wondered how it stayed up as it looks as if it just landed randomly upon her. Further, the front crease is particularly disturbing.

Kylie Minogue! No! Here she is in a plastic, non-fantastic disaster by William Wilde.

Kylie has come dressed as a PVC parcel. Good shoes though….

And then there was singer John Newman.

As part of Lord Grantham’s many-years-ahead-of-its-time environmental preservation policy, Downton Abbey has taken to employing badgers as valets. Newman! Bring me my tweeds! And lose the white socks!

This is singer Laura Mvula fresh from her triumph opening the BAFTAs with Tinie Tempah three days earlier.

Seeing her posing on the Mastercard logo reminded WTF that some things that are indeed priceless. And of them, apparently, is taste. If Damian Hirst had done a sculpture of a can-can dancer cut in half and floating in formaldehyde, it would have looked just like Laura…..

This week WTF bestows another of its rare accolades, a double appearance in one post. The honouree is  Jessie J. At the Brits, she wore a foul creation by the King of Minge, Julien Macdonald.

OMG. She looks as if she has been exhumed….. time to have a word with the makeup artist, Jessie. The word is P45. WTF is so tired of this Look-I’ve-Got-No-Knickers-on malarkey and the onesie seems to have crafted from the walls of a Moroccan urinal.

However, the previous Monday was worse when Jessie walked the Red Carpet at the inaptly named Elle Style Awards wearing Tom Ford. Tom Ford!

In her WTF Quenelle Special on 2 January this year, WTF opined that Tom Ford was straying down the Julien Macdonald Way to Wankiness and lo! he has arrived at the end of it. The slashed tee-shirt purporting to be a dress with its deplorable this-way-to-my-minge arrow is quite bad enough but the peep-toe boots are quite simply the worst boots WTF ever did see in her life. And not only are they rank but they put the wearer in imminent danger of a DVT. 

OK Readers, that’s your lot for this week.  Keep the comments coming in as well as your suggestions for It’s Got To Go and let us meet again next Friday. Be good x

Hallo Readers,

Harriet Harman MP is Deputy Leader of the Labour Party and a former Legal Officer of the National Council for Civil Liberties (NCCL) between 1978 and 1982. She met her husband Jack Dromey there and he too is a Labour MP. Former NCCL General Secretary Patricia Hewitt was also once a Labour MP and Cabinet minister under Tony Blair but is now pursuing a lucrative career outside Parliament.

The 70′s and 80′s were, we keep being told, a different time. Read worse. Think Jimmy Savile. And think the loathsome organisation that was PIE, the Paedophile Information Exchange, an organisation set up to promote paedophilia and as a means of introducing paedophiles to other paedophiles, like E-Harmony for perverts, except that they were all too old for each other. PIE affiliated to the NCCL in 1975, during which time it campaigned to abolish or lower the age of consent to as young as 4. Frankly, you didn’t have to be Inspector Gadget to realise what PIE was about and the name was really a bit of a giveaway. Nevertheless according to Hewitt, the NCCL “naively” accepted assurances that PIE’s purpose was “to counsel and advise”. Which it was but to counsel and advise them where to find children to molest. PIE was not expelled until 1983 and disbanded in 1984 with several of its members banged up in jail where they doubtless received the warm attentions of their fellow inmates. 

Scroll forward to late 2013/2014 when The Daily Mail decided to launch another of its well-balanced attacks on the Labour Party, this time on Harman, Dromey and Hewitt. It alleged that they had “links” with PIE (“links” is one of those words newspapers use when they haven’t got any evidence of anything concrete), that they were apologists for paedophilia and that the NCCL had supported the lowering of the age of consent to 10 in 1976 (which it hadn’t and anyway was before Harman even worked there). It also alleged that she had opposed a ban on photographing naked children unless harm could be proved, whereas she had in fact pointed out the dangers of parents who took snaps of their kids in the bath ending up in court. When The Mail sinks its teeth into you they stay sunk in, the way that a rabid dog hangs onto its prey until battered over the head and forced to desist.

For over a week these allegations went unanswered, giving rise to headlines of the “And STILL they won’t apologise” variety. On Monday, Harman appeared on Newsnight to attack The Mail’s campaign as a political smear (which it was) and to disassociate herself from PIE’s activities. However she refused to accept that it had been a mistake for the NCCL to have allowed PIE associate membership although it had raised “an unfortunate inference”. Cue more pontification by The Mail which called upon the unbiased testimony of convicted paedophile and former PIEman Tom O’Carroll who stated that Harman had failed to throw PIE out “because she did not want to rock the boat on her political career”. Not that Harman has ever met him. Or that anyone gives a fuck about what he thinks.

One can understand why Harman did not want to kowtow to The Mail. But the best way to have killed this off (and on Tuesday the Mail finally acknowledged that it was not making personal allegations against Harman) was to have admitted that any association between PIE and the NCCL had been an error of judgment and that although it had no effect upon NCCL policies, it should never have happened.  This is what the NCCL (now named LIBERTY) did pretty much straight away and in this it was right. Sometimes, despite the wisdom of a raft of spin doctors and political analysts and fresh-faced young Oxbridge graduates who have never had a proper job, the simplest approach is the often the best. Harman has since expressed “regret” and Hewitt has gone further and apologised. But in these matters timing is everything. Let a mosquito keep biting away at you and you get a large and infected lump. What this story needed was a quick application of antiseptic cream because you don’t get more septic than The Mail. Fact.

To the week’s sartorial nasties, starting with a rather wan-looking Rita Ora, fresh from Milan Fashion Week, wearing Moschino.

Rita has not made a record for a while and instead seems to ponce about with the glitterati. WTF therefore surmises that in order to fund her lifestyle she freelances as a sponsored school crossing patrol lady. Where’s your lollipop Reet? And your lippie?

More ridiculous Moschino, this time on Anna dell Russo.

Anna would wear this because her raison d’être is to look ridiculous. But would anyone else?  (Apart, perhaps, from Rita Ora?)

To the Vanity Fair Young Hollywood Party in, er, Hollywood. This is Disney starlet Bella Thorne wearing Zadig & Voltaire.

Disney is to release its new movie The Good Dinosaur which has clearly inspired Bella’s choice of attire, it being green and scaly. The cartoon version, however, does  not appear to be wearing a visible black bra.

Another guest at the event was actress Jessica Lowndes wearing Peggy Hartanto.

Could this actually be any more unflattering? There is a lot of side boobage whilst the trousers have inflated in the same way as your swimsuit does in the jacuzzi. WTF also deplores the badly dyed feet. Foot-blotch is rampant amongst celebs. How hard can it be to rub cream down to the soles? Or pay some other bugger to do it?

This week’s It’s Got To Go is designer and King of Minge Julien Macdonald, whose trashy efforts have been annoying the hell out of WTF for some time. Keen Readers will recall that last week we had Jessie J in a ghastly onesie fashioned from a Moroccan urinal and most weeks WTF has been forced to upbraid him for his latest crimes against women. This one was the worst, worn by Abby Clancy at an event honouring servicemen on the eve of Armistice Day.

Julien has also incurred WTF’s wrath by spelling his name in a daft way and prancing about on Strictly Come Dancing like a wounded elephant but that could have been overlooked had he made some effort to stop dressing women like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman. Julien – sew up some seams and start using lining. This is your last warning.

This is Rihanna out and about in a jacket thing and a fur thing.

I know it’s cold. But what in the name of all that’s Holy is that tit-warmer? 

We now meet actor Adrien Brody at the premiere of his new movie Grand Budapest Hotel wearing Dolce & Gabbana.

This is very…..shiny. Adrien is probably squinting at the brightness of his own reflection like Narcissus and we know what happened to him. The suit itself is beautifully cut but it is also just the wrong side of Italian rent boy.

And here is another gentleman from that premiere, the director Wes Anderson wearing I know not what.

Sorry, but Wes looks like a sociology lecturer at the college Christmas Party. Those shoes! The colour combos! That shirt and tie combo! The velvet suit! Yurgle.

This next one is a shocker. Here is the lovely Julianne Moore wearing Prabal Gurung.

No! WTF reveres Julianne who is beautiful and a wonderful actress but this shapeless outfit makes her look like Mr Toad escaping from prison dressed as a washerwoman.

Finally and this is bad, bad, bad, we have actress Regina King wearing Michael Costello. Yes, it’s him again.

Regina is very sassy and a good actress (remember her as Cuba Gooding Jnr’s wife in Jerry Maguire). On catching sight of this, WTF’s first thought was the poor woman had undergone some serious surgery and rushed to Wikipedia to check that this was not so. Happily it was not, in which case what possible excuse can there be for such an ugly, unflattering and downright sadistic dress? WTF has said it before and she will say it again – this Michael Costello is a pest. Go away and earn a living doing something else – on the evidence of this effort, butchery.

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

Hallo Readers,

This is a bumper edition of WTF to mark the Oscars on Sunday, so It’s Got To Go has had to go but we need to discuss Tony Blair who, like the spider you push down the plughole but keeps popping its hairy little legs up through the gaps, just won’t go away. Since stepping down as Prime Minister in June 2007, Blair has been busy with various activities, all of them apparently with the sole purpose of swelling his bank accounts. He is on a number of Boards, he has written his memoirs (his revolting account of giving Cherie one on the night his predecessor as Labour Leader died remains etched into WTF’s memory), he has pounded the lecture circuit and for a while it seemed that he was set to become President of Europe. That this did not come to pass is fortunate because UKIP would have attracted millions of voters overnight with Nigel Farage carried shoulder high into Number 10 by cheering supporters. Blair is also, laughably, the Middle East Peace Envoy which in view of his record of warmongering against Afghanistan and Iraq is like asking Putin to head up Ukraine’s Independence campaign. To date there is no evidence of tangible or indeed any success and his chances seem to have been hampered yet further by his suggestion in January of this year that the military coup against the elected government of Egypt was a good thing for democracy.

Now it emerges that Blair has also been keeping his hand in with the Murdoch harem. First we had Wendi Deng, the third ex-Mrs Murdoch, waxing lyrical in her diary about his beautiful eyes, his long legs and his firm butt. Previously WTF had thought of Blair’s butt only in terms of kicking it into prison for war crimes but Wendi seems to have envisaged something different. Then we had Rebekah Brooks, former editor of the defunct and disgraced News of the World, giving evidence to the Old Bailey that Blair had phoned her in 2011 to offer support when it all went tits up. One would have thought that an offer of assistance from Blair would be about as welcome as a turd in a punchbowl but Rebekah apparently derived great comfort from it. Given that she had transferred her political affections to Call Me Dave, her near neighbour in leafy Oxfordshire, Tony’s attentions seem shameless but not as shameless as his insistence once the story had broken that he had known nothing of the details and was just offering “general advice”. But then what else do we expect of the little slimeball?

To the Oscars. The actual Red Carpet proved a bit of a disappointment because most played it safe. No minge moments, no bare bums, no heaving cleavage. Dresses had linings and sewn-up seams. But there were a few shockers and the After-Parties were awash with horror. Read on and see if you agree with WTF’s selection.

Let us begin with ghastly and pointless posh totty Lady Victoria Hervey who is still invited everywhere for reasons unknown and unfathomable.

Amazingly, m’Lady is not flashing her minge and she is not even the worst dressed of the night. She just looks awful. WTF also deplores the tightly-pulled-back ponytail, known in the UK as the Croydon facelift.

This is model Karolina Kurkova wearing Elie Saab.

Elie Saab! Shame on you. As for Katerina, she resembles an undernourished gymslip bride…..

Next up we have Anna Kendrick wearing J Mendel.

That pose! WTF hates that pose almost above all things, like a waxwork with a wonky leg. As for the dress, Anna might have got away with one of (i) the strappy shoulder stuff (ii) the red and black mesh waist or (iii) the knee split. But not all of them.

Here is model and professional wronged wife, Liberty Ross.

The poor thing looks ill and half starved. She is also wrapped tight like a Maypole on Mayday. Shocking.

Last year Anne Hathaway abandoned her chosen Valentino frock for an ill-judged and ill-fitting pink Prada frock. This year, she chose Gucci and it was no better.

She is wearing a disco ball breastplate. One understands that after Nipplegate 2013 she wanted to cover them up this year but still…..

Now we have top tennis player Serena Williams wearing WTF’s new bugbear Michael Costello.

This is basically a worse version of Beyoncé’s Grammys dress by the same designer and it is as nasty as can be, especially when you catch a side view.

Yurgle. Serena’s physique is admirable but this does not flatter her although, that said, it is hard to see who would be flattered by a dress featuring both under-arse and thighs flashing through white flora.

More arse-flashing from model Karlie Kloss. From the front she looks almost respectable.

But not from the back…..

Visible arse = horrible. Fact.

No Red Carpet would be complete without Pharrell Williams looking like a twat. Here he is wearing Lanvin and accompanied by his wife Helen Lasichanh. 

The good news is that he has stopped rolling up his trousers. The bad news is that there are no trousers to roll up because he has now switched to shorts like a boy scout in a tuxedo. Dib dib dib…. 

Our next fashion victim is  Diane Kruger wearing Valentino Couture.

How much does WTF hate this floaty concoction? It puts onlookers in fear of an imminent Minge Moment like a lacy version of Salome doing the Dance of the Seven Veils. 

Here is a newcomer to these pages, actress Mamie Gummer. The designer remains unknown, which is a stroke of luck for him or her.

What the buggery bollocks is going on here? This is one ugly dress. Mamie is 30 and yet looks considerably older than her mother Meryl Streep who scrubbed up very nicely in Lanvin for the same event. Even Morticia would give the nostril to oxblood lace trimmed with black and sea-green offcuts but it is a tribute to Mamie’s thespian talents that she still produced such a lovely smile.

Now we get über-trashy with former Spice Girl Mel B wearing Walter Mendez.

Mel has long come to be synonymous with the expression “rough as a bear’s arse” and this is why. The Minge Mask is revolting and she doesn’t appear to have any feet but particular opprobrium is reserved for the mounds of plastic purporting to be tits – like a Barbie doll and equally as shiny.

This next one is bad. I refer to model Jessica White wearing Nicholas Jebran.

WTF had no idea that Disney was remaking a X-rated version of Snow White meets Aladdin in the Harem with Jessica as the Wicked Queen. Hi ho! Hi ho! It’s Off to Work We Go…..

We now come upon another newcomer to these pages, former Olympic figure skater Johnny Weir.

Johnny was on US TV giving a running critique on other people’s outfits despite being dressed as the Ice Fairy in a white leather ensemble and sparkly slippers. He looks entirely preposterous and his hair puts WTF in mind of a Guardsman’s Busby.

It gets worse with Whoopi Goldberg. Or should that should Whoops?

She looks like a docker in drag. At first sight, WTF hoped that this was in jocular homage to Julia Roberts’ Dolce & Gabbana outfit at the Golden Globes but this has sailed past Pisstake and docked in Deranged, not least because of the striped socks and I’m-Dorothy-come-here-Toto shoes.

And finally, we have Liza Minnelli wearing vintage Halston.

OMG, OMG, OMG. It is a truth universally acknowledged that a woman over a certain age must be in need of a bra and in Liza’s case that was about 25 years ago. This may have looked OK in Studio 54 in 1978 when everyone was off their face on drugs but that was then and this is now. WTF’s friend Alison points out that it is the Red Carpet version of the leisure wear people don to go to shopping centres. Questions also have to be asked about the face, the blue streak in the hair and the orthopaedic shoes.

OK Readers, that’s your lot for this week. Keep your comments coming (last week was a BIG disappointment and you know how WTF gets upset when she thinks you don’t love her any more) as well as your suggestions for It’s Got To Go and let us meet again next Friday. Be good x

Hallo Readers,

This week saw the sudden death of Bob Crow, General Secretary of the Rail, Maritime and Transport Workers at the appallingly young age of 52. Bob was exactly the sort of trade unionist that the Daily Mail hated more than it hates anyone who is a trade unionist, which is a lot. He was an unapologetic Communist-Socialist. He was articulate, intelligent and funny and even worse he was good at his job, namely to fight for his members. He wasn’t interested in cosying up to the Public. He wasn’t interested in cosying up to the Press. He wasn’t interested in cosying up to the Labour Party. That is what the Press and the Establishment found really threatening – he didn’t give a monkey’s and he was effective. His members always got pay rises. He knew how to win negotiations. After he died, a man from the arbitration service ACAS said that despite the grandstanding and tub-thumping in his public appearances, in round-the-table talks he was quiet, focussed and polite and usually got what he wanted.

There was no doubt that Bob liked the good life. Who doesn’t? He earned a good salary despite the sneering of hugely paid City folk in receipt of million-pound bonuses and the huffing and puffing of hugely paid newspaper editors. At least his members approved his salary which is more than you can say for most company executives. He liked good restaurants and good hotels. He took holidays in places like Brazil. I mean, how very dare he? Surely a cockney oik from a council house who still lived in a council house (he used to say that he was probably the only one in his street who actually paid the rent himself) should have eaten in Nando’s and holidayed in Benidorm or Butlins? I mean, who did he think he was?

And this is why in life (oh, they are all being nice about him now that he is dead) he attracted such dislike. Bob wasn’t beige. He despised beige. He wasn’t ashamed of being working class or left wing. He didn’t want to be one of the bland, interchangeable political class where you can barely tell Dave from Ed from little Cleggy. He didn’t want to keep quiet and know his place because he didn’t believe anyone had the right to tell him or his members what their place was. RIP Bob. You’ll be missed.

From serious to silly and the week’s dreadful fashion horrors, starting with WTF regular Chelsee Healey wearing Doll’s House at a ball in Manchester and nearly giving us a Minge Moment.

Cultured Readers will of course be familiar with the La Fontaine fable of the Scorpion and the Frog where the scorpion stung the frog carrying him across the river, even though the scorpion could not swim. “You fool!” croaked the frog, “Now we shall both die! Why on earth did you do that? The scorpion shrugged, and did a little jig on the drowning frog’s back “I could not help myself. It is my nature”. And the same is true for Chelsee. She cannot help herself either. It is her nature.

Next up let us meet ZZZLister Abi Clarke, formerly off TOWIE.

At what point did it become alright to walk about in public like this with huge fake tits falling out of their tit-basket? Extra minus points for the appalling foot-blotch and the tan lines. Hideous, and I am being kind….

Readers often complain that there are not enough men featured in these posts and some have even gone so far as to accuse WTF of misogyny, which is upsetting. (It is also bollocks). WTF has said this before – when she sees a shockingly dressed man, she will feature him. Last week there were two, Johnny Weir and Pharrell Williams. And this week we have director Darren Aronofsky at the premiere of his new movie, Noah, seen here with young actors Logan Lerman (in brown) and Douglas Booth (in blue). The boys both look cute and nicely turned out.

By all accounts Darren’s movie is as big a stinker as his suit. Have you ever seen anything so ill-fitting? WTF has long railed against this trend of the short, buttoned-up tight-fitting jacket and she is also unimpressed with the split tie, the knitted scarf and the too-long trousers billowing over the groin department. As for the suit, it is made out of the same fabric as Ronnie Barker’s grocers’ coat in the popular TV comedy series Open All Hours.

Readers are now warned to put on those goggles they tell you to wear when looking at a full eclipse of the sun. Here is Jennifer Lopez in J Brand top and jeans and a pair of rather nice but very high Louboutins.

There is bright. And there is retinal damage. This falls squarely into retinal damage. Further, the jeans are a prime example of what WTF has identified as “Call for the Canesten”. The poor woman must be rubbed raw around the crotch. Questions must also be asked about her outbreak of foot-blotch and the My Little Ponytail hair.

This week’s It’s Got To Go is the televising of the Oscar Pistorius trial for shooting his girlfriend Reeva Steenkamp on Valentine’s Day 2013. During the French Revolution, les tricoteuses would bring their knitting to watch toffs being guillotined. There was no TV, radio, cinema or internet in those days and entertainment options were limited. The Pistorius file is the high-tech version of the guillotine with every gut-wrenching detail, every re-enactment, every bloodstain in closeup, every time the accused pukes, every horribly hammy shouty-question from Defence Counsel, beamed into your living room or office for public delectation. Can we just remember that a woman was brutally killed and stop treating the trial as a glorified Law and Order – Pretoria? Watching it is like going down to the site of a crash – ghoulish. 

To New York and the launch of Sarah Jessica Parker‘s new shoe collection. SJP is wearing Dolce & Gabbana. And of course a pair of her own shoes.

Last week WTF brought you Whoopi Goldberg at the Oscars wearing something similar in homage to Julia Roberts’ Golden Globes outfit, another D&G dress (strapless in her case) worn with a white shirt. Readers expressed great disapprobation and with good reason. SJP’s interpretation of this look is equally ghastly, a red lace pinafore worn with a white shirt and semi-sheer stirrup tights like Heidi meets an 80’s Jane Fonda going for the burn and buggering a lot of people’s backs in the process, WTF’s included. 

Pride of place this week goes to the Kardashian sisters Kim and Khloe. First we have Khloe.

This is not so much Puss in Boots as Pussy in Boots because we are getting a lot of gynecological detail here, together with masses of heaving tit and rounded thigh and a very nasty Chanel bag. As for the boots, they looked trashy on Julia Roberts 24 years ago in Pretty Woman and she had the legs for them. But then Julia was supposed to look trashy. She was playing a hooker. 

And then we have Kim at the opening of a new family boutique in Miami.

Kim gave an interview recently admitting that she and her fiancé had perhaps been foolish to wear head to toe black leather in Mexico in August only to repeat that folly in Florida by dressing as Joan of Arc in chain-mail at Orléans. Not that Joan of Arc would have flashed her bra and panties on the battlefield, partly because underwired bras and panties had yet to be invented and partly because she was better than that. Joan was burnt at the stake  as a heretic in 1431. Just imagine how her accusers would have reacted had she been dressed like this.

OK Readers, that’s your lot for this week. A goodly crop of comments on the last post made WTF very happy so keep them coming and let us meet again next Friday. Be good x

Hallo Readers,

 Last Friday, just as WTF’s tribute to Bob Crow was published, the news broke that Labour Party grandee and former Cabinet Minister Tony Benn had died peacefully aged 88. Once again, (almost) everyone spoke well of him and trotted out the old chestnut “National Treasure”. All those who had denigrated him as a swivel-eyed loony, a ranting commie and a danger to Britain, rushed to praise him. We were told that he was “a conviction politician” and “a man of principle”, as if politicians should ever be anything else. But then, as we know, such politicians are rare as rocking horse shit. As @mrsnickyclarke sagely remarked “It is indicative that we all hunger for the real thing, not the PR fuelled Stepford politicians we are forced to choose between”.

Benn was the real thing. He did what he thought was right. He did not disguise his privileged background (Westminster and Oxford) but when the law decreed that he had to leave the Commons on the death of his father and take up his hereditary peerage, he fought to change the law and three years later, he did. He campaigned to change the Labour Party and although he largely failed, he stuck to his guns. He did not believe in pay ceilings for trade unions. He argued with Prime Minister Harold Wilson over abandoning the Labour Party manifesto once in office. He hated the idea of spin doctors or the IMF setting policies and of the European Union setting laws. He distrusted the US’s interventionist foreign policy. He said what he thought, not what he thought he should say. 

Benn was vilified throughout his life and mocked for his identification with “ordinary” people, for shortening his name from Anthony Wedgwood Benn and for drinking builders’ tea out of a large mug but he really did believe that we were all in it together. Unlike Gideon George Osborne, whose Budget this week pandered shamelessly to a patronising Tory vision of the common man by taking 1p off a pint of beer and 10% off the tax on Bingo. If there had been taxes on ferrets and jellied eels, Osborne would doubtless have cut those too. So if you drink 5 pints of beer a night down the pub, you will be a whole 35p a week better off, as well as having a beer gut and an odds-on chance of developing cirrhosis. As for the Bingo, the industry has already announced that the reduction in tax will bring no material benefit to the punters. This did not stop Tory Chairman, the appalling Grant Schapps, from tweeting this poster:

Note the use of the word “they”. The Romans appeased the plebs with bread and circuses; the Tories have opted for beer and bingo. Tony Benn would have enjoyed the irony. RIP Tony. You were a good man and you too will be missed.

To the week’s sartorial horrors, travelling first to Sydney and the premiere of Sabotage starring Sam Worthington, a person with no point whatsoever. Also present was Sam’s ghastly girlfriend, model and general celebrity-at-large Lara Bingle wearing Dion Lee.

Lara looks like the world’s oldest 28-year-old under that slap whilst the very ugly dress makes her look like a hologram in a shrunken sports bra.

Our next subject is stylist and fashionista Cameron Silver at the launch of someone else’s shoe collection in New York.

Here we have a random collection of extremely silly clothes thrown together to maximise their extreme silliness. He resembles nothing so much as a gaudy fresco in a felt hat and WTF also wishes to express great disapprobation at the rope-belt and the rolled up trouser legs.

WTF’s nephew, on being informed that Scarlett Johansson would feature this week, could hardly believe his ears. He refused to believe that his favourite actress could ever merit inclusion in this post. But Auntie is sorry to say that in this Armani Privé outfit, she so does.

Scarlett is undoubtedly beautiful and is blooming in her pregnancy and to be fair, said nephew is probably not looking so much at the clothes as at their contents. But it must be acknowledged that whereas her skirt is lovely, the top is not. Why is she dressed as a titsy Chinese armoire? And even more alarmingly, what happens when you pull those tassels?

We must now turn to Lea Michele at Glee’s 100th episode party wearing Milly and a pair of $1,500 Brian Atwood bejewelled sandals.

Sigh. The ghastly see-through-and-big-panties look lingers on like the smell of stale smoke behind the bike sheds or piss in a public doorway. Make it stop. Please. Before we all die of boredom.

Moving on, whilst one hesitates to pick on a young teenager, Kiernan Shipka, Sally Draper in Mad Men, isn’t half asking for it in this Valentino thing.

Does this remind you of anyone?

We are back to bread and circuses but WTF is not entertained. If Kiernan wanted to dress as a gladiator, she could at least have gone the whole hog and worn Roman sandals and a shield. Frankly, the action of whoever put Kiernan into this getup is tantamount to child cruelty.

This week’s It’s Got To Go features Sky News’ Kay Burley. WTF is still recovering from her performance outside St. Mary’s Hospital when Prince George was born when she ran up and down the street screaming “It’s a boy” and was fortunate to escape immediate admission to the psychiatric ward. Then there was her crass insensitivity when little April Jones went missing in North Wales. As volunteers combed the countryside, Kay took it upon herself  to inform two shocked women that “this is now a murder enquiry”. Oh and let’s not forget the Norwegian bombings when she commented  during a press conference “Whatever language you’re listening to, ‘Boom’ probably means the same thing”. For her latest coup, Kay was part of a posse chasing grieving relatives in Kuala Lumpur up a down escalator in the aftermath of MH370. As she struggled to keep up and slipped over she could be heard yelling ”I should have gone to the gym” and “I’ve lost my phone”. Kay – you’ve got to go.

WTF always like to feature a newcomer to these posts, and therefore is happy to introduce you to actress Maggie Q at the premiere of Divergent, in which she has a small role. Maggie is wearing a typically foul creation by WTF bugbear Anthony Vaccarello.

Anna dello Russo wore the same dress last year, only strapless and WTF hated that as well although Maggie, being younger and with a fantastic body, wears it much better. However, the issue is whether anyone should be wearing it at all. This, Readers, is the classic headline hijack in which minor actresses hog the limelight in an attempt to make it big by wearing something small and to be frank, this tawdry, tarty, thigh-baring, “Hey-I’ve-got-no-panties-on!!!!!” outfit is the pits.

Another newcomer, half-Iranian, half-German film producer Minu Barati Fischer wearing Fendi and carrying a revolting Fendi handbag at a Fendi  boutique launch in Munich. 

Minu is the 5th wife of the veteran German politician and former Foreign Minister Joschka Fischer and 30 years his junior. Fendi has conned her into dressing as a hairy bison and her truly hideous handbag features what appears to be a squashed brown rodent with one remaining eyeball.  You would think that the woman would have had more sense but clearly not.

Lastly we have the Queen’s granddaughter Zara Phillips.

It is not easy to be worse dressed than Princess Anne. It would normally take a team of rocket scientists working around the clock and high on crystal meth to devise such an outfit but somehow Zara has managed to outdo her mother in awfulness. Does she not possess an iron? Has her horse been kipping on her raincoat? What the hell is that feathered cabin crew hat?  And what are those things on her feet? WTF is not bothered by the baby weight but a tightly belted close-fitting mac, whether it has crumples or not, is unflattering on a new mum. Or, for that matter, on anyone busty. And Zara is both.

OK Readers. That’s your lot for this week. Keep those comments coming and your suggestions for It’s Got To Go and let us meet again next Friday. Be good  x

Hallo Readers,

Nothing restores you to good humour better than a Tory sex scandal and last weekend delivered in bucketfuls. Brooks Newmark, a balding millionaire who (in tabloid-speak) is 56 and a married dad-of-5, was caught out by a classic tabloid sting and had to resign as Minister for Civil Society after only 3 months in the job.  A freelance male undercover reporter used a picture of a pretty Swedish model and pretended to be 22-year old Tory Totty Sophie who tweeted a number of Tory MPs with flirty messages to see whether they were up for a bit of bit-flashing. Only Newmark went so far as to exchange WhatsApp messages culminating in his requesting and receiving saucy pictures of her. In return he first sent her a selfie of him in red and green paisley pyjamas (be still my beating heart) and then this ridiculous message “…you MUST swear on a stack of Bibles you won’t show pics as I promise not to show pics of you? OK?”  and finally a picture of the member of the Member for Braintree peeking out of the aforementioned jim-jams. The Sunday Mirror bought the story (two other tabloids turned it down) and Newmark became Nomark. As the fine old Yiddish expression has it, “Ven der schmeckl steht, der sechel geht“, roughly translated as “when your prick goes hard, common sense flies out of the window”.

It is clear that Nomark was an idiot, as he himself recognised. It is unseemly for the Minister for Civil Society to send pictures of his putz to anyone other than his wife, let alone to a young woman whom he has just met online. Whatever sort of civil society Nomark was supposed to be creating, his brief did not include the promotion of sharing dick-pics with strangers. Worse, Nomark assumed that she would keep silent with no basis for forming that view, even if “Sophie” was who she said she was, which she wasn’t.  He demonstrated a lack of judgment and he and his family have been humiliated. Worse still, the whole thing smacks of an abuse of power because he was obviously using his position to get into position with the lissom “Sophie” whom he took to be a young woman keen to forge a political career.   He was the one who kept demanding intimate snaps, not her and he was taking advantage. Admittedly, quite a few middle aged men might readily persuade themselves that a blonde hottie in her 20’s they had never met really wanted to see their winkle although it is notable that Nomark’s colleagues who were similarly targeted steered clear. But it is also true that Nomark was entrapped by the freelancer’s photos of someone’s face and someone else’s body selected randomly off the internet without their consent. The new Independent Press Standards Organisation is looking into the matter and rightly so. As for Nomark, he should stay away from the internet and disable his mobile phone. That is, if his wife hasn’t already shoved it somewhere painful.

To the fashion faux pas of the week starting with Amal Alamuddin wearing Gianbattista Valli on the day after her wedding to a certain George Clooney.

Yes she’s brilliant and lovely and everything but WTF feels compelled to make the following observations. First, this is a mullet dress and mullet dresses are bad. Second, although it is beautifully embroidered, it still looks like a lampshade. And third, not only is it unflattering but it is so short that it leaves onlookers in apprehension of an imminent Minge Moment. WTF included.

To Paris Week Week and fashionista Anya Ziourova wearing Céline.

 The hollow-faced Anya is dressed in  a curtain pelmet and oversized trewsies made from an old blanket. She needs new clothes and a large portion of cake.

Billionaire James Goldstein was at PFW again this year, still wearing St Laurent by Hedi Slimane. Here he is with  his companion, Belarussian model Ilona Guzarevich at the Maxime Simoens Show.

James was featured in this blog a year ago wearing the same jeans and he also sported them at New York Fashion Week so he is clearly getting his $2,000 worth. WTF does not like the proximity of those rips to his crotch. If he wanted to do a Brooks Nomark, he wouldn’t even need to unzip. He has matched the jeans with a St Laurent jacket (another $2,000) and accessorised with some lairy-looking loafers, a man bag, his trademark hat and Ilona. Last year WTF aficionado Belle commented of James,  “Quentin Crisps’s head on Steven Tyler’s body. There is not enough brain bleach in the world to cleanse that image from my mind. I shall probably have nightmares”. Wait until she cops a load of this picture…..

Talking of matchy-matchy, here is Kim Kardashian (wearing vintage Givenchy), husband Kanye West and daughter North West, aged 15 months, on their way to the Givenchy Show. 

Who takes a toddler to a fashion show? Kim is looking titsy, tawdry and trashy, so no change there but she is featured because of the way she has dressed little Nori. Call for Olivia Benson from SVU – Special Victims Unit! That child needs protection. The saintly Olivia would take one look at a distressed toddler dressed in peekaboo sheer chiffon and get a court order faster than you can say paedophiles’ wet dream. 

Former Vogue editor Carine Roitfeld threw her annual CR Book Party to mark the end of PFW. If you weren’t there, you were nobody but everyone who was there looked like a sack of shit. The dress code was tits, like Rosie Huntington-Whiteley here wearing Balmain.

This is what happens when you cross a wasp and a deckchair. Rosie looks as if she has been dissected from the crotch down and the effect is, to say the least, unnerving.

More appalling peekaboo from Miranda Kerr wearing Givenchy…

Quite apart from anything else, it is all so boringly, Minge-Momently the same. Change the record for Heavens’s sake.

Or take Cara Delevigne, also wearing Balmain. Sigh. Next!

Finally we have footballer  Mario Balotelli going clubbing in Manchester.

Mario reportedly took a 30% pay cut to join Liverpool FC from AC Milan and now has to scrimp by on £110,000 a week. The explanation for his going out on the town dressed like this must be that he has been moonlighting as a painter and decorator although he can still afford two iPhones. Everything here is an outrage, especially the shoes and unless you are a Freemason there is no possible excuse for rolling up your trouser legs. Pharrell Williams has a lot to answer for, and not just for Blurred Lines.

This week’s It’s Got To Go is the randomness of rail fares. How the hell do they work them out? Book an advance First Class Fare from, say, London to Newcastle, and it is £79. Turn up and take the same train and it is £207. Same seat. Same service. You could fly to New York for some of the fares the train companies have the effrontery to charge. Rail travel should be a public service and not a penance. Someone somewhere is taking the piss……

OK Readers, that’s your lot for this week. The comments and suggestions were a little sparse last week and you know how WTF goes into decline when this happens. Make her happy and click the Comment Button. Let us meet again next Friday and in the meantime, spread the WTF word to your friends, family, work colleagues and the man who delivers the milk. Be good.

Hallo Readers, 

Former Lord Chancellors of this Sceptred Isle include Thomas À Beckett, Cardinal Wolsey, Sir Thomas More, Lord Eldon, Lord Halsbury and Lord Haldane. And now we have non-lawyer Chris Grayling, a man who would have to double in significance even to attain mediocrity. Grayling wants to pull us out of the European Convention of Human Rights and the European Court of Human Rights and says he will repeal the Human Rights Act unless the Court assumes only an advisory role. His paper, released last Friday, has more holes than a Swiss Cheese. Our friends the Scots and the Northern Irish have enshrined links to the ECHR. It seems a rum state of affairs where Cameron runs around Caledonia like a headless chicken trying to keep the Union together only to threaten a further schism should the Tories win the election. And it might be nice if Cameron and Grayling told us which Human Rights they take exception to. Right to Life? Right to Privacy? Right to Family Life? Right to Freedom of Speech? Right to Freedom of Religion? They say they will enact a new Bill of Rights but which ones are they going to leave out? Which ones are they going to put in? And who is going to police it? If our Courts can only interpret our laws, what happens if our law contravenes the Convention?

The sad truth is that most people do not know the difference between the European Union, the Court of Justice for the European Union, the European Convention on Human Rights and the European Court of Human Rights. They have no more grasp of which Rights are set out in the Convention than they do of nuclear physics. The European Court of Human Rights protects basic rights in the Convention of which we are not only a signatory but largely the author. It has nothing to do with whether Romanians have the right to live in Clacton or the regulation size of a carrot. But Cameron, Grayling et.al. are so terrified of the beer-breath of Nigel Farage on their necks that they want to be seen to do something manly and patriotic. As for the idea of the Court being only advisory, this is a concept that could catch on. Next time you go to court and lose the case, thank the Judge nicely for his or her time and say that you value the advice but actually, they can stick the judgment where the sun don’t shine. This is what the Tories want to do in 2015. Don’t let them.

We move to the disastrous fashion faux-pas of the week, starting with the gruesome twosome of Simon Cowell and one of his many exes, one-hit-wonder Sinitta, welcoming the last six hopefuls in the X Factor Over-25 category to his LA home. During their final sing-off, Simon told Sinitta that most of them were shite (true) and he couldn’t remember one of them at all (rude), rather begging the question why he chose them in the first place. 

Sinitta’s role on these occasions is limited to greeting the guests half-naked so that Simon can react with mock-appalled-surprise (like he didn’t already know). The combination of the hair-kini, the hideous platform shoes and the Hiawatha headdress is as offensive as can be, although WTF’s chief concerns are the knees (Is it carpet burn? Just asking….). As for Simon, just look at the state of him.  Richer than Croesus and he goes on telly flashing his hairy moobs in a crumpled shirt and a pair of $10 jeans from the Walmart rummage basket.

Now we have chanteuse Eliza Doolittle (née Eliza Caird) parading around London with what the tabloids call a “mystery man”. Eliza is showing a lot of chest…..

What is going on here? This attire falls squarely into the category of “that’s not even clothes”. Wrapping your tits in ribbon, baring your belly-button and wearing jeans where the ratio of denim to flesh is roughly 50:50 does not equate to being dressed, even if you are wearing a teeny-tiny jacket. This hideous new trend of jackets without a top or with a top so small that it does not actually qualify as a top HAS TO END.

Here is Oscar-winner Jared Leto parading around New York also showing an awful lot of chest and looking like a twat.

Is side-boob on a man side-moob?  Whatever it is, it is a shocker. Why should citizens of New York have to put up with this as they go about their daily business? It is more than time that celebs started covering up. Thank Gawd it is nearly winter…….

WTF has raged like Job against the horrors of the see-through skirt, but still it keeps coming right at us. This one, though, as worn by Rita Ora, is the absolute nadir.

So here is a birdcage worn as a skirt with black knickers and a white shirt tucked into the birdcage.  There is as much use in tucking a shirt into a see -through skirt as, to quote a disgruntled caller to a radio phone-in on Ed Miliband, a boil on the scrotum. I mean, look at this. It is simply a nonsense.

As for Rita, the bird appears to have flown and died on her head…..

This is American country singer Kelly Willis at a red-carpet thing in Berlin wearing something terribly, terribly terrible.

Kelly has four kids so one can understand her desire to show off her abs but we are also getting an eyeful of her belly button, her hipbones and everything in-between. That would be bad enough, but to flash the flesh AND wear a geometric, patchwork pantsuit with trompe l’oeil Hollywood Wax and a cape like the love child of Don Juan and the Pied Piper is just not on.

Finally, we have wonderful Anna Gunn from Breaking Bad wearing the most horrible creation by Marchesa. This is the front….

The skirt is pretty, but the shirt and ill-fitting jacket combo makes her look like Manuel in Fawlty Towers.

The view from the side demonstrates why it doesn’t fit….

It’s got no sides! It’s got no back! From this angle she looks as if she is being molested by Manuel. It could not be any more terrible. And the same goes for those orange legs…. it is time for Anna’s stylist to receive a slap, a P45 and then another slap. 

This week’s It’s Got To Go is suggested by WTF aficionado Nicola from West London who takes issue with people wearing backpacks on the Tube.  It is bad enough that you are squeezed into a rush hour train with your nose pressed into someone’s whiffy armpit whilst forced to listen to someone else’s horrible music choices thumping tinnily into your ear without having to suffer a rucksack occupying two standing-spaces. It is even more dangerous when you are sitting down with your face no more than three inches from a stranger’s rectal area, only to be struck in the eye by the aforesaid rucksack or clouted round the head as the  owner picks it up and swings it about like King Kong astride the Empire State Building. They’ve got to go – or at least be the subject of a separate fare. In a separate carriage.

OK Readers that’s your lot for this week. Keep those comments coming in (there was a goodly crop last week which made WTF was very happy) and your suggestions for It’s Got To Go and let us meet again next week. Be good.

Hallo Readers,

Ched Evans is a scumbag, even on his own account of the night in May 2011 that led to his being convicted of rape. Evans, then 22, his friend Clayton Macdonald and two others were out on the lash in his hometown of Rhyl. Macdonald met a drunk 19-year-old waitress in a kebab shop at 3 am and took her back to his hotel room and they had sex. At which point Evans walked into the room, having obtained a key from the receptionist. Evans said Macdonald invited him to join in. Macdonald said it was Evans’ suggestion. Both agreed that the woman said yes but the woman claimed to have no recollection of the events at all. Evans then had sex with her whilst other pals tried to film events through the window. Macdonald left through the door and Evans by the fire escape, leaving the woman to wake up in the morning with no idea where she was, how she had got there, who she had been with and what had happened. Evans and Macdonald were charged with rape on the grounds that the woman had been too intoxicated to have consented. They claimed that she was able to, and did, consent. Curiously, Macdonald was acquitted but Evans was convicted and got 5 years. Various friends and relations were later convicted and fined for naming the woman on social media. Evans maintains his innocence and has hired a QC to draft his appeal.

None of this sorry tale would have merited more than a few lines in the local paper had the accused not been professional footballers. Macdonald’s career was undistinguished but Evans played for Sheffield Utd and was a Welsh international. Today he is released, having served half his sentence and  the question is whether he should be allowed to resume his career which presents feminist liberals like WTF with a real dilemma. On the one hand, he is clearly a pig who was found guilty of a very serious offence. 145,000 people have signed a petition opposing his re-employment. On the other hand, he has served his sentence. Had he previously been employed in a factory and returned to work, he would have been praised for rehabilitating himself. Does the fact that he is returning to glamorous and lucrative employment mean that he should never be allowed to return to it at all?  Where is the dividing line between acceptable and unacceptable employment and to which crimes does it apply? And if the argument is that footballers are role models, why should arrogant arse-wipes who can kick a ball about be seen as role models anyway? On balance, WTF has reluctantly concluded that he should be allowed to play because the lines are otherwise too arbitrary and there is no point in sending someone to prison unless they can come out and start again. Of course, Evans will have all manner of shit heaped on him by the opposing fans (and maybe some of his own) whenever he steps onto the pitch but once he scores a goal most Sheffield Utd fans will cheer him to the rafters. And his girlfriend is standing by him. Depressing isn’t it?

To the sartorial stinkers of the week, starting with X Factor judge Mel B, aka Scary Spice, leaving after the second live show.

OMG! Talk about a wolf in lamb’s clothing. She’s even got the bloody ears. And those pom-poms! A friend who supports Glasgow Rangers tells me that Aberdeen FC supporters like to wear sheep masks before kickoff and then turn them to the back of their heads to watch the game, giving an unnerving experience to anyone standing amongst them who is not a sheep shagger. WTF has roughly the same sensation on seeing Mel.

Here are Vas J Morgan and Jasmin Walia off TOWIE out and about in London.

Jasmin is doing that white lace and black bra thing that WTF REALLY HATES and Vas, a newcomer to the series, looks like a twat in a see-through top exposing not just his chest but his bellybutton and groin. Meanwhile, anyone over the age of 10 wearing a back-to-front baseball cap is an idiot. Fact.

And this is Sarah Jessica Parker also doing that white lace and black bra thing wearing Elie Saab.

Sarah is threatening a third Sex And The City movie, despite the fact that the last one needed to improve 1000% just to be putrid. Both Sarah’s style and her career are still irretrievably linked with Carrie Bradshaw and it is time for her to move on. As for the dress, it seems to have been attacked by moths.

Next up we have Australian rapper, Iggy Azalea.

My, this is ugly. It is as if Iggy has parachuted in from Planet Crapsville and then knocked up this ensemble using a mini sewing machine concealed in her backpack. The finish, particularly on the seams and hems, is terrible and WTF is perturbed by the health hazard posed by those revolting boots. They are laced so tightly that they are causing indentations, like a couple of latticed pork pies and are cutting off the circulation to her toes.

Sigh. Here is the lovely Christina Hendricks looking not at all lovely in this execrable white suit.

First of all, no one should wear a white trouser suit unless they are either the Man from Del Monte or Tony Manero in Saturday Night Fever.

Second, if you do wear a white trouser suit, it should not be this one. The trousers are so eye-wateringly tight over the crotch that they fall squarely into WTF’s category of Call For The Canesten. Camel toe should never be on view except on a camel. The trousers are very unflattering and the buttoned jacket is straining over Christina’s magnificent bosom. When she looks so wonderful in pencil skirts and fitted dresses accentuating her curves, why would she even think of wearing this?

WARNING! THIS NEXT ONE IS VERY BAD.

Yes, it’s Mariah Carey on tour in China.

Yurgle. Both the skirt and the triangular-titted corset are very ridiculous and WTF suspects that Mariah is doing that post-breakup “showing him what he’s missing” nonsense after splitting from husband Nick Cannon. Sadly this might well have the opposite effect because it may be that he got tired of her showing it. We certainly are. Mariah would be well advised to take that dangling fabric and wrap it about her to save further embarrassment.

This week’s It’s Got To Go was suggested by WTF aficionado Sarah Bourke and she put it so brilliantly that here it is verbatim for you to enjoy. It concerns televised fishing.

Robson Green and the bloke that looks like a geography teacher spend hours clogging up the TV schedules each day with their brand of “extreme” angling. All the shows seem to feature them going somewhere exotic to catch some fugly fish with massive teeth. The fish doesn’t want to be caught but they get it in the end. Once you have seen one, you have seen them all. It is as interesting as being read highlights from the Wickes catalogue and It’s Got To Go.

OK Readers that’s your lot for this week. Keep those excellent comments rolling in and your suggestions for It’s Got To Go and let us meet again next Friday. Be good x

Hallo Readers,

This week a man was sent to prison for killing his girlfriend. His family was shocked and angry. Friends and family of the deceased felt vindicated. Yes, poor Peter Barlow off Coronation Street went down for the murder of barmaid Tina and is now doing life despite the fact that the killer was his brother-in-law, the shifty-eyed Rob, who is also about to become a double-brother-in-law by marrying Peter’s step-sister Tracy (who herself did time for murder). But I digress. It became increasingly difficult to distinguish between the Oscar Pistorius trial in Pretoria and the Peter Barlow trial in Manchester. Both had brooding, troubled defendants dressed in black who wept, wailed and threw up and a beautiful dead victim and lawyers so hammy that you’d think they would struggle to get a role in the Market Snodsbury Christmas Panto. The Judge delivered both the Pistorius verdict and the sentence with such dramatic, lengthy pauses that one was reminded of Dermot O’Leary informing X Factor finalists which of them has got the heave-ho. It was no advert for televising criminal trials, not least when you couldn’t see the facial expressions of most of the witnesses, like Law and Order Pretoria but on sound only.

It seems we have all become experts on the South African Penal Code and after the sentence everyone had their say. There was the insufferable Uncle, Arnold Pistorius, who banged on about the trauma of the accused and railed at the prosecution for daring to charge a man with premeditated murder when all he had done was to fail to notice that his girlfriend was not in bed with him and shot not one, not two, not three but four bullets into the door of a locked toilet cubicle with no escape possible for whoever was behind it. There were the sportswriters and athletes who instantly started speculating on when and if Pistorius could return to the track. There were the reporters screaming questions at Reeva’s family as they left the courtroom. The whole thing was hugely unedifying. In the end, a young woman was shot dead by her boyfriend, a man known to have a nasty temper and a predilection for guns. The evidence of neighbours who heard her screams before the gunshots was dismissed in a televised trial because they might have been influenced by the publicity surrounding the trial. The Judge bottled it.  Oscar may not be going to the 2016 Rio Olympics but Reeva will not be going anywhere, ever. Her life was worth a damn sight more than a pathetic 10 months in a prison hospital and then house arrest in some comfortable suburban villa with swimming pool and gymnasium. The whole thing was a circus from beginning to end. We need to remember that this was not an actress who is alive and well and always in the tabloids. This was a real woman who died on St Valentine’s night in a hail of bullets behind a toilet door.

We turn to the week’s sartorial shit-pile. WTF is battle-hardened when it comes to bad fashion but this week is as bad as she can remember. What happened to the concept of dignity? Is this what the Women’s Movement has achieved? We start with the Angel Ball in New York where we come across model and professionally-wronged wife Liberty Ross wearing vintage Versace.

WTF is bemused. And then she is bemused some more. As she remarked on @WTF_EEK, she had heard of a waist belt and a hip belt but never of an arse belt. Either that or Liberty is wearing a leather incontinence pad.

Then there was Jennifer Hudson who cannot stop showing us how she lost 80lbs four years ago.

We get it love. You’re thinner. That doesn’t mean we need to see your push-up bra and your stockinged thigh in what looks like a silk dressing gown. Now stop it.

Mel B was in last week but there is no way that this effort can be ignored. Here she is on the X Factor Results Show on Sunday wearing Alessandra Rich.

WTF suspects that Simon Cowell tricked Mel into wearing this as revenge for the previous night when she suggested that one of his acts was “cheating” at which Simon was in great indignation. But not as indignant as WTF is at the elongated tit window displaying a manky bra and the hideous skirt like a minge moment apron over lace, yours for only £1,285.

Next we have singer Tinashe at the launch of her new album.

Tits. Hipbones. Leather joggers. Fuck-me shoes. Visible blue panties (at least, I hope they’re panties) under a leotard. The whole nine yards…

It isn’t really clothes but you can’t leave this one out. Baggage Katie Price launched her new novel (written of course by someone else) dressed like this.

WTF can’t bear it. Katie, please Make My Wish Come True. Bugger off.

And here is singer K Michelle at the MOBO Awards in London.

Oh dear. Oh very dear. Are those her knickers showing? Her butt certainly is. Is that a valance around her knees? Hideous, just hideous.

These next three dresses, not that they are dresses, are repulsive. First we have Clint Eastwood’s 21 year daughter and budding thespian, Francesca Eastwood at the Environmental Media Awards 2014. No, WTF doesn’t know what she was doing there either.

Dah dah, dah dah!!!! Minge Moment alert! Pubes on show to get noticed! Dah dah, dah dah! This is the fate of celebrity daughters whose parents outstrip them in fame. Look at Rumer Willis. Clint should ride into town, cheroot clamped to his lips, and sort this one out.

And then we have actress Naomi Grossman from the TV series American Horror Story wearing Natalia Fedner.

American Horror Story are les mots justes. Dah dah, dah dah, Minge-and Arse-Moment alert! The dress is dog-ugly and appears to be composed of coconut matting tacked onto sheer chiffon. It is reminiscent of the effort worn by designer Nadine Merabi which ran away with the 2013 WTF Summer Stinker Award.

And then we have serial offender Maitland Ward in this hideous leather item by soi-disant high-end designer J. Loren for Adolfo Sanchez. Rear end, more like. Ready? You won’t be….

It’s a Minge Waterfall. Yes, folds are cascading from her minge like Victoria Falls. It is all visible – tits, groin, everything. And the back view is also deplorable.

Top marks to WTF aficionado Kathryn who described the hole at the seam as a  “fart flap”. As for J. Loren, he should have his pencil, pad and scissors confiscated until he promises to stop designing these overpriced flash-fests.

This week’s It’s To Go is courtesy of WTF aficionado Leslie of Lisson Grove who has taken umbrage at the nonsensical presence of Christmas fare (or should that be Christmas Fayre?) in supermarkets although it is only October. 

Leslie points out that we have just had Diwali and have yet to get through Halloween, Guy Fawkes’ Night and Chanukah before we even think about Christmas and yet supermarket shelves are crammed to the gills with all manner of Yuletide rubbish. It’s Got To Go.

They are all so bad  this week that we need a poll. Get voting!!!!

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

Hallo Readers,

This week Sir Nicholas Winton, an astonishing 105 years old and still sharp as a tack, was honoured by the Czech Government for his work 76 years ago when he saved 669 Jewish children by arranging their safe transport out of Czechoslovakia and away from the gas chambers that consumed their parents and grandparents. At that stage, Britain was the only country willing to admit unaccompanied minors.  Sir Nicholas makes you feel humble and also proud to be a member of the same human race.  By coincidence, this week also saw an announcement sneaked in under the public radar by the Minister of State in the Foreign Office, Baroness Anelay, a person of whose existence WTF and probably anyone else was previously unaware, by way of a Parliamentary written answer. Her Ladyship informed us that Her Majesty’s Government no longer intended to contribute towards the air and sea rescue of refugees in unseaworthy vessels. She said “We do not support planned search and rescue operations in the Mediterranean. We believe that they create an unintended ‘pull factor’, encouraging more migrants to attempt the dangerous sea crossing and thereby leading to more tragic and unnecessary deaths”. The migration policy of Her Majesty’s Government appears to be reduced to two words – Fuck ‘em. A similar policy has been advanced by the Australian Foreign Minister Scott Morrison. He ignored the advice of his own department in refusing visas for refugees. The High Court ruled against him and so he developed an alternative strategy, namely to use some obscure public interest section in the Migration Act to deny them visas. That too is under challenge in the High Court.

WTF is descended on both sides from refugees. Her paternal grand-parents came to Britain from Poland to escape the pogroms. Her mother and grandmother got out of what is now Moldova by the skin of their teeth and were lucky enough to find safety from the Nazis and their pals, the Iron Guard. Friends of my mother and grandmother were lying dead in the street which they witnessed as they left the cellars where they had been in hiding for a week. (The night before their boat was due to leave for Istanbul, there was an earthquake and my mother also witnessed an apartment block collapse. And yet she was the sunniest, life-embracing woman WTF has ever met).  Many of those whom they left behind were either murdered or tried to sail to freedom and sank in unseaworthy vessels. So, Readers, you will readily understand that WTF is unsympathetic to the Fuck ‘em school of migration policy. It is one thing to have an immigration policy. It is quite another to watch people drown in order to teach them a lesson. Sir Nicholas reminds us that there was and is decency in the world. It is just a pity that it doesn’t seem to have found a home in either Canberra or Westminster.

Let us start the sartorial roll of shame with actor Alan Cumming at the Elton John Foundation – Enduring Vision Gala in New York.

Alan loves his native Scotland so much that he has just applied for US citizenship. He looks like a Caledonian circus clown minus the curly ginger wig. Were you standing next to him, you would be in fear of being squirted in the eye by his water-pistol bow tie. And WTF are those boots? Is he romping through the frozen tundra back to his Manhattan apartment?

Next we have Kate Moss out of the razz at Annabel’s in her pyjamas.

Let us begin with her right leg which is at a most peculiar angle as if someone has half twisted it off. Let us then progress to the creased high-waisted satin jim-jams worn with a black polo neck and a pink feather boa that even Dame Barbara Cartland would have scorned. Just terribly, terribly terrible.

We meet couturier Jean-Paul Gaultier wearing his own creation. 

He has worn skirts before but now he is wearing maxis. Creased ones. It just makes you weep….

Next up, a real treat for you. Meet Vogue Contributing Fashion Editor Lynn Yaeger looking, as she normally does, utterly bizarre.

What is that mouth? Like a Russian doll….

And what  is she wearing? The velvet dressing gown is rather fabulous but the frilled black sparklefest is like something you would see on the Dowager Duchess of Grantham at the Downton Abbey Servants’ Ball. Only she would not have worn hers with footless leggings and jazz shoes.

Last week, super-strumpet Maitland Ward shocked and appalled us with her revolting leather see-through dress with Minge Waterfall and built-in fart  flap. Ever mindful of her responsibilities to her Readers’ health and safety, WTF then spared you the other dress she wore ON THE SAME NIGHT also by J. Loren for Adolfo Sanchez.  The Governor of California should be seeking some sort of injunctive relief as a matter of emergency. Here’s the “front”, if that is the word WTF is looking for, which it isn’t.

This amounts to no more than a series of triangular bit-covers. And here is the rear, which is DEFINITELY the word WTF is looking for.

One hesitates to comment on the dark red outline, like a monkey’s buttocks, but WTF is never one to hesitate for long. What is it?  Whatever it is, it should not be on display. 

And now a triumvirate of Designer Disgustingness from the amFAR Inspiration Gala in New York. It is of course laudable that celebs do their bit to assist in the fight against AIDS. It is just not clear why they have to strip near-naked in order to do it. And whatever they may be inspiring, they are not inspiring young women to dress with self-respect. First we have super-model Alessandra Ambrosio in Zuhair Murad. Watch out when you click the link – Brazilian samba music comes right out at you….

Dad dah, dah dah! Minge Moment alert! The dress is scaly. And horrible. And worse still – the nip-tips! Or pasties as our American friends call them….

After making AIDS history, can we make sheer history? Please?

Then we have Rihanna dressed as a two bit tart wearing Tom Ford. Tom Ford!

Rihana dressed as a two-bit tart is nothing new. Indeed, it is the norm. But Tom Ford!!!! The man who used to be the by-word for class. As Mark Antony remarked in Julius Caesar, Oh what a fall there was, my countrymen…

And then there is Miley Cyrus dressed as an S&M princess. Also wearing Tom Ford.

Many months back, WTF warned that Tom Ford was on the Julien Macdonald Way to Wankiness.  She rests her case. 

This week’s It’s Got To Go comes at the suggestion of WTF aficionados Stephen and Helen of Potters Bar as well as Yvonne Ridley, all of whom are outraged and then some by the umpteenth return to Coronation Street of Jim MacDonald played by Charlie Lawson, so he is.  Although he might have left again, so he might.

Jim, who comes from Northern Ireland, so he does, finishes every sentence with some faux-Irish exclamation.  Charlie Lawson is, by some distance, the worst actor on television, so he is. The producers should stop bringing him back, so they should, before WTF, Stephen, Helen, Yvonne and many others turn off Corrie for good.

OK Readers, that’s your lot for this week. Keep your excellent comments coming in, as WTF does enjoy them, as well as your suggestions for It’s Got To Go and let us meet again next Friday. Be good x

Hallo Readers,

When you apply to join the Civil Service (subsidised lunches plus a Knighthood or a Damehood if you hang around long enough – and why would you go anywhere else with that fuck-off, index-linked pension awaiting you?), you have to answer questions designed to test your sneakiness and your ability to rescue ministers from the dungheap in which they inevitably find themselves. Like this one. The Home Office is in a pickle. It has been lumbered with an unwanted enquiry into the failure of public bodies and institutions to act on child abuse over the past 30 years. Various Tory grandees from the 1980s have been accused, correctly or otherwise, of either involvement in paedophile activities or covering them up. There is sympathy for those poor kiddies who were sexually abused by eminent members of the Establishment turning up in their Rolls Royces but it would be better not to have the Enquiry so how can it be delayed whilst looking as if it is full steam ahead? Here is WTF’s idea.

First, the role of the former Attorney General, Sir Michael Havers, will be under scrutiny for failing to act on serious allegations so why not appoint his sister Lady Butler-Sloss to Chair the Enquiry? You can always claim that you did not know she was his sister as they have different names. She is a former member of the Court of Appeal, an expert in children’s matters and someone without a stain on her character but she is consanguineous and therefore she could never be perceived as neutral. The row drags on for a while before she steps down. You then come up with Fiona Woolf, the Lord Mayor of London, Ambassador for City of London Business and a former President of the Law Society. Mrs Woolf is a neighbour of the former Tory Home Secretary Leon Brittan, another one whose actions will be scrutinised because he was handed a dossier naming names but it then “got lost”, you know, the way these things do. And not only is she a neighbour of the Brittans,  she has dined with them and they with her. And not only has she dined with them and they with her but the Home Office helped her draft and redraft a letter which failed to make the dining arrangements clear. This wastes even more time until she too is forced to resign. So you get to November with Christmas muzak tinkling in the shops and another ballsachingly sickly, soupy, soapy John Lewis TV ad and there is still no Chair for the Enquiry despite it being set up in July. The Home Secretary has now promised to consult what Mrs Woolf nauseatingly described as “the victim community” before wheeling out the next Chair. Does Jimmy Savile have any relatives in the legal profession? Or can we delay matters further by having an Enquiry into the Enquiry?

To the week’s sartorial horrorshow starting with ubiquitous but talentless Cheryl Fernandez-Versini, formerly Cheryl Cole, née Tweedy, on the set of The X Factor wearing Ziad Nakad.

WTF can forgive the ironed Morticia hair because it was a Halloween Special (although the purported “singing” was so bad last weekend that extraneous horror was superfluous) but the makeup is wholly unforgivable and the dress is less Ziad Nakad and more half Nakad. What is the point of wearing a dark blue Minge Moment dress with a cheap-looking, crinkled white half-slip like something you would find in BHS for £4? Either you go at this thing full-throttle or not at all. Preferably the latter…..

Then we have our old friend Madonna wearing Givenchy.

Those boots aren’t made for walking….in fact, Madge needed three little helpers just to get them on. And for what? They are beyond hideous. We have saloon-girl chic, arms like a weightlifter, nipples on display like a couple of ripe raspberries and a face (at 56) as smooth as a billiard ball and twice as shiny. Dear Lord. It is time for Madge to stay indoors. Please make it happen.

Next meet actress and model China Chow wearing a ridiculous dress by Moschino designed by WTF bête noire Jeremy Scott.

This is taking the expression “looks good enough to eat” too literally. It is silly. Perhaps Jeremy’s natural progression would be to create a dress based on the Andrex wrapping paper.

To the Harper’s Bazaar Women of the Year event and the lovely Rosie Huntingdon-Whiteley wearing Balmain.

This is less offensive than the bondage thing by Tom Ford worn by serial-offender Miley Cyrus last week but also more offensive in that (i) Rosie is a lot classier than Miley (ii) that choke-chain collar is just worrying and (iii) WTF hates a see-through trouser almost above all things. By the way, Readers, last week WTF told you that Tom Ford had strayed down the Julien Macdonald Way to Wankiness and this week confirmed it when WTF learnt that Tom had written a love letter to Rihanna’s nipples. Just saying….

And now the first in a new feature, although familiar to those following @WTF_EEK, called The Perils of Plastic Surgery. If you are eating, stop now and send small children out of the room. Here is Donatella Versace.

This is just so wrong. Donatella is 59 years old and looks like a gargoyle. WTF referred to Madonna’s shiny visage a few snaps back but Donatella’s face is not so much shiny as polished to the extent that you could use it as a mirror. Why do women do this to themselves? It is self-harming and it is sad.

Shockingness abounded at the Melbourne Gold Cup held on Tuesday, where the theme appeared to be Fancy Dress (Freak Show). If this is the crème de la crème of Australian society, Heaven help Australia.  Here are some of the silliest people you have ever seen in this blog, starting with preposterous milliner to the stars Richard Nylon. And no, he is not standing in front of a sunburst clock, that is part of the hat.

OMG, OMG, OMG. That is all…..

And another lunatic in the shape of designer Matcho Suba.

Ummmmmmmm…he is wearing a suit made out of wallpaper and a Kaiser Wilhelm helmet made out of netting. This, Readers, is what passes for high fashion in Melbourne society….

And finally, because who could take much more of these people, we have model and celebrity Gabi Grecko, whom we met a few weeks ago, (25) accompanied by her fiancé, iffy billionaire Geoffrey Edelsten (71).

WTF is unsure which is worse – Gabi dressed as a burlesque raptor blow-up doll or Geoffrey dressed as a satin banana. Meanwhile Geoffrey’s hair is as improbable as anything WTF has ever seen, ever. 

Talking of Christmas, as we were earlier, this week’s It’s Got to Go comes courtesy of Emma from leafy North London who is yet again dreading the inevitable onslaught of shit, namely the yuletide presents from her in-laws. Emma asks (and WTF is with her here) why it is not socially acceptable simply to say “I don’t want any more crap tat from you, thank you very much, save your money”. Last year she got two balls of wool and a diet cookbook. Enough said. It’s Got To Go.

OK Readers, that’s your lot for this week. There was veritable cornucopia of comments from you last week, so keep them coming as well as your suggestions for It’s Got to Go and let us meet again next Friday. Be good x

Hallo Readers, 

WTF had never heard of Dapper Laughs, the cockney geezer alter ego of “comedian” Daniel O’Reilly until she received a tweet last Monday from WTF aficionado Annette Lewis demanding that Dapper must feature in It’s Got to Go. On investigation, it emerged that Dapper’s patter consisted of gags such as “I’m holding a knife – lift up your fucking skirt” and “get out your gash” and “it’s only sexual harassment if she’s more attractive than you”.  Not to mention the side-splitting line “get some duct tape and rape the bitch”.  It is perhaps unsurprising that Daniel thought himself funny, given that Daniel père tweeted of a woman journalist who criticised his son that a mugger had told her “your [sic] to [sic] ugly to be raped”. The apple does not fall far from the tree. Other Dapper supporters deluged the woman with abuse, calling her “a fucking slag” and advising her to get back to “whore island, you ugly c**t”. Nice. A man is known by the company he keeps and the audience to whom he appeals….

Dapper shot to fame through social media and social media did for him almost as fast. Only 24 hours after he came into WTF’s life, a Twitter backlash had finished him off. ITV2 pulled his new show and his forthcoming tour was cancelled. Daniel announced that he had killed off Dapper in the same way as Jack Worthing condemned his imaginary younger brother to death by influenza in The Importance of Being Earnest and appeared on Newsnight to be savaged by presenter Emily Maitlis where he opted for a confusing line of defence, simultaneously admitting some of his gags had gone too far, snivelling that he was satirising misogyny, not endorsing it and portraying himself as having fallen foul of an over-censorious age. “Oh, so you’re the victim are you?” queried Emily icily. Daniel squirmed. It was like watching a bully brought up short by a much bigger boy who was about to kick the shit out of him and all the more enjoyable for it.

Here is WTF’s take on the late Mr Laughs. He was not only as funny as a bad dose of shingles but he was all about trying to making rape and violence against women funny. And they are not, never were and never will be funny. His loathsome alter ego encouraged brainless, sexist louts to laugh at the idea that women deserved no respect and were there to be slapped about, groped or screwed, with or without their consent.  Daniel told Emily that Dapper had appealed “to a certain demographic”. Yes – to unpleasant morons.

To the many and various sartorial shockers of the week, starting with actress Kym Marsh off Corrie. What you are about to see is the unique look that is Soap Star Style. 

More orange than a warehouse-full of Christmas clementines. Makeup applied with a trowel. (Fake) tittage on display. Foot blotch. Tattoos. Is this really what women aspire to look like in Britain today? 

The MTV EMAs were surprisingly well dressed, much to WTF’s disappointment, but there is always a bad’un and here is show-off Scottish singer Tallia Storm wearing I know not what.

Sigh. That hair is beyond comprehension, as if she has stuck her fingers into the mains. The outfit is awful. This girl just makes you want to grind your teeth to powder.

Here is Karolina Kurkova at the German GQ Awards wearing Toni Maticevski with Guiseppe Zanotti sandals.

Melbourne-based Toni has squished Karolina’s chest behind a mesh tit-window and coupled that outrage with a mesh Minge Moment. This dress proves WTF’s Golden Rule, namely if it looks shit on a supermodel then it probably is. The sandals, however, are good.

Ghastly socialite Hofit Golan exists for no obvious purpose other than to flash her bits in public and here is she at the premiere of the latest Hunger Games wearing – well, who else could it have been – WTF bugbear Julien Macdonald.

See-through. Nipples. Cut-out. Peekaboo. Yawn. Next!

There was a gala for Louis Vuitton at the Metropolitan Museum of Modern Art last Friday where a lot of fashionable folk turned up wearing the eponymous label and looking absurd. How can people pay so much to look so bad? We start our review of overpriced designed tat with Contributing Vogue editor André Leon Talley.

André looks like an extra from Game of Thrones. Why is he going out and about dressed like this? And what the hell is that around his neck?

And then there was New York-based architect Peter Marino, responsible for designing, inter alia, many high-end fashion stores.

There is no possible excuse for dressing like this unless you are part of a Village People tribute act and especially if you are 62 and straight. That is all there is to be said about Peter Marino’s outfit. Next!

Also there looking daft, although rather sweet, was singer and music producer Will.i.am.

Readers may wonder why, as WTF aficionado @sumarumi sagaciously enquired, Will is wearing a Bill and Ben flowerpot hat. For those of you under 50, Bill and Ben the Flowerpot Men were part of the BBC’s afternoon entertainment for children in a more innocent age. The one in the middle is their friend Little Weed.

WTF is also bewitched, bothered and bewildered by Will’s trousers like lacy plus-fours and which make no sense, not even of any kind.

Now to singer Aubrey O’Day, a member of re-formed girl group Danity Kane, wearing Just Enaj (that is the name of the designer and not WTF’s view on the adequacy of the cover provided by her “dress”).

Quite apart from the hideous vulgarity of the dress (her tits are way too big for this style, not that style is remotely the mot juste), the flesh-toned panel is pale beige and her flesh is the colour of paprika. As for her makeup artist, s/he should be sacked on the spot.

WTF has seen some bad camel toe in her time but this one, on Khloe Kardashian, is about as bad as can be, and then some. Careful now……

Ouch! This falls squarely into the category of Call for the Canesten. Wearing trousers this tight should be a public order offence. The booties are, of course, Christian Louboutin worn with a matchy-matchy belt and there is a lot of globular tittage. It is of course unsurprising that those jeans are so snug with her ridiculous fake bottom…

This week’s It’s Got To Go was suggested by WTF aficionado Kate who points out that most Ugg boots are not outdoor wear and are not designed to be worn in slippery conditions which is why so many people fall arse over tit and clog up the Accident & Emergency Wards of our over-worked, under-funded NHS. They are also not supposed to get wet because then they get smelly. By all means keep your tootsies warm but either buy Uggs with proper outdoor soles and ankle support or keep them for padding around the house.

OK Readers that’s your lot for this week. Loads of comments came in last week which made WTF very happy and there were some top suggestions for It’s Got to Go, so more of the same please and let us meet again next Friday. Be good x

Hallo Readers,

On his release 5 weeks ago, WTF expressed the view that although Ched Evans was, on any view, a scumbag, he should on balance be allowed to return to his job playing football for Sheffield United after serving half his sentence for rape. Since then, Evans, Sheffield United and some of Evans’ supporters tested WTF’s view to the limit. And now it doesn’t matter because the Club announced last night that it has severed all ties with Evans and that he could no longer train with the squad. Here are WTF’s thoughts….

♦ Evans is still a convicted rapist despite his protestations of innocence. He was originally refused permission to appeal and as yet has not even been granted a further appeal. But days after his release, there he was with his gormless girlfriend by his side whilst he apologised for “being unfaithful” to her. Which was as offensive as it was stupid. 

♦ United should either have immediately announced that it was in favour of rehabilitation and was offering Evans a contract or that it wouldn’t touch him with a bargepole.  It did neither, trod water and made the situation harder for everyone, including itself. Either shit or get off the pot. Don’t wait for your patrons and sponsors to squeeze it out for you.

♦When Olympian Jessica Ennis-Hill said she wanted her name removed from the stand named in her honour, Evans’ website, run by his family, featured a mock picture of “The Ched Evans Stand” and the headline “Jessica Who?”  She is a national heroine and a sporting icon – that’s who. 

♦ Not all United supporters wanted him back, whilst others believed that he was wrongly convicted of rape or that he had done his time and deserved another chance. But others supported Evans just because he had worn the Club’s red and white jersey and because his goals could get United back into the top flight. And so they named the victim (again) on Twitter and Facebook, chanted “He Scores When He Wants” and “He Rapes When he Wants” and abused any woman objecting to their club employing a rapist, the usual litany of rape threats and comments like “she should keep her mouth shut” as if women should know better than to have an opinion, let alone to voice it. WTF does not agree with all the women’s views but they are certainly entitled to express them.

So Evans is unemployed and will play the victim, the gormless girlfriend will still stick to him like shit to a blanket, her millionaire dad will foot the legal bills and the Evans family will continue with their not-quite-accurate website, blaming the victim and casting aspersions upon her conduct and lifestyle. It has been a truly unedifying spectacle. 

Let us now turn to the week’s sartorial sluice bucket. No men today, after a goodly showing in the last few weeks but some dismally dressed women, starting with Beyoncé’s sister Solange Knowles (or Solangé as WTF likes to call her, why should one sister have an acute and not the other?) wearing Stéphane Rolland on the way to get married. (She changed into a rather lovely gown for the ceremony).

Gosh, there is plenty of tit on display here and also plenty of back…

But there is also plenty of hem, in fact the worst-looking hems WTF has ever seen. WTF has taken against the whole outfit, whether for a wedding or otherwise.

This is Meghan Trainor, singer of the absurdly catchy mega-hit, All About The Bass. Click on the link and have a singalong.

WTF does not know what that dress is. But she does know that it is horrible.

Hurrah, she’s back! Readers’ favourite Nancy dell’Olio stepped out at the Spectator Magazine Cigar Awards (yes really).

On seeing this snap, WTF aficionado Ellie Cumbo, asked “is this really this decade?” The answer is no because Nancy has favoured this low-cut, arse-hugging, cameltoe-showing, too-long-trouser style since at least 2002 when she wore a similar garment to 10 Downing Street as the consort of the then England manager, overpaid prat Sven Goran Ericsson. And it was old fashioned in 2002. She is blending into the walls here but sadly we can still see her.

Next up is actress Keke Palmer wearing not a lot of ICB with gorgeous Sergio Rossi boots.

Keke is currently appearing on Broadway but dressed like this she looks as if she walking it. 

No, Keke, just no. We do not want to see your pierced nipples. Or your bra.

We continue our series of Soap Star Style with Holly Hagan, the rough-as-a-bear’s-arse “star” of the shagathon “reality” TV series Geordie Shore. Here she is modelling from her own range.

Holly tells us that she designed this range for normal girls to wear. If this is normal, we have gone to hell in a handcart. Skin the colour of an old teabag. Tits on show the size of footballs. Hair that started life on something or somebody else. A vile neon onesie. Fuck-Me Shoes. Stop The World, I Want to Get Off.

This one really is a fashion disaster. Here is actress Kristen Stewart wearing Chanel Couture, for whom she is a muse.  She looked great in a strapless dress with mesh overlay and the skirt is really pretty.

 And then this happened…

Couture means made to measure by hand but Chanel’s tape measure must have been faulty because the bodice is cut so low that it slipped down whilst Kristen was on stage presenting an award, exposing her nipples which is why she looks so mortified. Sack the seamstress!

Just after WTF swore to various correspondents that Kim Kardashian really was banned from the blog, WTF aficionado @gazaboatconvoy and others rightly insisted on the inclusion of this picture. Here is Kim at the launch of her new fragrance Fleur Fatale wearing latex designer Atsuko Kudo.

The back is also preposterous.

Kim has stopped dressing as a blow-up sex doll and has now turned herself into a blow-up sex doll. Frankly, it is hard to see where the latex ends and Kim begins and she would be well advised to stand away from naked flames and sharp objects or she will simply go pop…..

This week’s It’s Got To Go can be briefly stated. The  good news is that the Indonesian Police Force allows women recruits. The bad news is that they have to take a virginity test in which two fingers are inserted into their vagina to see whether their hymen is intact.  Why being a virgin makes you a better police officer, WTF cannot say. Are male recruits interrogated on whether they’ve had some? It’s Got To Go. 

OK Readers, that’s your lot for this week. There were some top comments and suggestions for It’s Got To Go and WTF is greedy and wants some more. Let us meet again next Friday. Be good x

Hallo Readers, 

Many years ago WTF’s parents were on holiday in Paris. Walking through the Bois de Boulogne, they passed a bench with a tramp snoozing on it, whereupon a gendarme appeared, unceremoniously shooed him away, turned to them and said apologetically “Toutes mes excuses, Madame, Monsieur, ce type là n’est pas de notre categorie”. The phrase came to mind this week when two MPs, one Labour and one Tory, came to grief. On bye-election day with UKIP poised to win the seat of Rochester & Strood, Shadow Attorney-General Emily Thornberry, the wife of a High Court Judge, tweeted a photo of an ordinary house bedecked with England flags and a white van parked in the drive. The tweet simply said “Image from Rochester” but the meaning was clear. It meant “UKIP-voting chav”. WTF might have had some respect for Emily had she come clean and admitted it but she tried to blag her way out, embarrassing herself by claiming the photo was because she’d “never seen so many flags on one house”. Within hours, she had taken Ed Milliband’s proffered revolver, shot herself in both feet and slunk back to her £3m Islington townhouse, career flushed down the toilet. You cannot claim to represent the working man (in this case, 18-stone, Tory-voting, car-dealing cage-fighter Dan Ware) whilst sneering at him in public, particularly when you have a property portfolio worth £5m. It is not just patronising, it is stupid. Thornberry was luckily out the next day when Ware came to call, accompanied by The Sun, staging a photocall on her doorstep and waving his flag. 

Andrew Mitchell’s career went down the toilet 2 years ago. Attempts since then to retrieve it from the bowl have proved unsuccessful and it finally disappeared round the bend yesterday when a High Court Judge (not Thornberry’s husband) ruled that he had indeed called PC Toby Rowland “a fucking pleb” and said “know your fucking place…you don’t run the fucking Government”. And why? Because the roly-poly copper had refused to let Mitchell and his bike through a Downing Street gate. Some might think that Mr Justice Mittings’s conclusion that PC Rowland had neither the wit nor the imagination as well as the inclination  to invent the use of the word “pleb” was more patronising than anything Mitchell said but when you wear a wig you can get away with all sorts.  It is never a good idea to swear at coppers because the police tend to take it badly and exact revenge. And it is always a bad idea to take libel proceedings because it is like taking a bucket, drilling a hole in the bottom and pouring your life savings into it. Mitchell has been left with a £2m+ bill which is lot of money to pay for egg on your face and your career in ruins. 

When trade union boss Bob Crow died suddenly, WTF wrote that “he didn’t want to keep quiet and know his place because he didn’t believe anyone had the right to tell him or his members what their place was”.  The time when the Great British prole doffed their cap to their betters has long gone. You might get away with rudeness but you will not get away with snobbery, especially if you are meant to be a representative of the very people you’re being snobbish about. Meanwhile, WTF would pay good money to see a tag-team cage fight between Thornberry and Mitchell against Rowland and Ware. They can donate the ticket money to Band Aid 30.

We turn to the week’s sartorial slurry pit and it is really, really BAD. We seem to have reached the stage where people are going about in public virtually naked. However, we begin with actress and children’s author, Evangeline Lilly who, although she looks terrible, is at least covered up.

Evangeline has been out on a picnic and then wrapped the tablecloth around her like a crinoline to save her carrying it home. She probably has the picnic basket under there as well. Disapprobation must also be expressed at her swirly chest and her unspeakable boots.

The Latin Grammy Awards were a nightmare, a taste-free zone for men and women. Here is singer J Balvin wearing a lot of red. (But he can sing – click the link).

No one over 12 should wear those trainer thingies which are also making his trousers bunch around the tops and why would a man want to look like a vinyl paint splat?

We now meet singer Violeta Martin.

Quite apart from the amount of tittage on display, the dress is unflattering and whilst the colour is gorgeous, the scaly fabric makes her look like a disembowelled tropical fish  – she even has the air bubbles on the skirt. Is that a dog collar around her neck? Next!  

Well perhaps not, because next is singer Laura Aleman.

This is a wretched combination of cheap lace and cheaper ribbon leaving aghast onlookers in fear of an imminent Minge Moment and what has happened to the top part of the dress? It seems to have been ripped off in a fight.

Finally from this group we have actress Roselyn Sánchez wearing Ecliptica. Ecliptica design wedding dresses, apparently. For whom? Nudists?

This isn’t a dress, this is an upside-down, embroidered, Christmas hold-up support stocking. Her nipples are covered but her panties and everything else are all too visible. Shocking.

The American Music Awards usually bring rich pickings and this year was no exception. We start with handsome young actor Ansel Elgort wearing Kent & Curwen with Prada shoes.

Ansel is wearing the jacket he wore as a pubescent busboy at the golf club and he seems to have shat his trousers which are also a tad snug. Memo to Ansel. It is time for a new wardrobe – and an iron. The shoes can stay.

And here is model, Heidi Klum wearing Versace. What she has to do with the price of fish, WTF cannot say.

Versace has put Heidi in a swim suit and sarong and then gift wrapped her in shimmering pink ribbon. But do we want her? The shoes are also ghastly and do not fit. Look! Her toes are hanging out…..

But the AMAs booby prize, in every sense of the word, goes to Albanian-born TV personality and singer Bleona Gereti wearing Shahla Doriz. Shahla also designs wedding dresses. For whom? Fetishists? 

And the rear (and rear is the word) is even worse….

Bleona, aka the Madonna of Albania, has a new single out called Fuck You, I’m Famous. Her poor parents are so mortified by this apparel that they are barricaded inside their home refusing to come out and with good reason. “How’s your daughter Mrs Qereti?” “Oh she’s fine, she went to the AMAs with her arse out”.  Memo to Shahla and Bleona. Wearing a sparkling fishing net over a white thong is not clothes.

Bleona was bad and so was actress Bai Ling attending the premiere of The Key.

Bai Ling seems to have taken the key theme rather literally around her chest and she has a rose growing out of her labia, giving a whole new meaning to Juliet’s phrase “That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet”. And the shoes are hideous. No, I’m sorry, I am going to have to go and lie down.

You know what, these are all so bad that we need a poll.

Even this week’s It’s Got To Go is appalling. Here is a range of baby clothes by Café Press, a company based in Louisville Kentucky. You can find it on the net.

These are as foul and revolting as anything WTF has ever seen. It is unnecessary to add anything save to observe that any parent who even thought about purchasing these items should instantly be made subject to  an intervention by  Social Services.

OK Readers, that’s your lot for this week. Keep those top comments coming in and your suggestions for It’s Got To Go and let us meet again next Friday. Be good x

Hallo Readers,

2014 is the 100th anniversary of World War 1 and the 70th anniversary of the D-Day Landings when brave men and women laid down their lives for freedom. Last Friday, another series of battles took place across the United Kingdom when brave men and women fought almost to the death to get what they had come for, although in some cases they actually had no idea what the hell they had come for. It was a mighty campaign and one they will look back on with pride. As Henry V remarked at Agincourt  

And gentlemen in England now a-bed
Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap…

You get the picture. And what were our heroes and heroines doing? They were engaged in hand to hand combat in ASDA and Tesco in the Black Friday sales, determined to grab and then to hang onto a 40″ LED HD telly reduced by £150 or a pair of fuck-me-dead, mega-wow-wow, super-noise-reducing headphones reduced by £65.  If that isn’t worth getting up at 2 am, queueing in the freezing cold for hours and then punching several strangers for daring to insert their still-thawing-out frame between you and the Samsung of your dreams, WTF doesn’t know what is. Half of them crawled home with frostbite, a black eye and a sprained ankle, carrying a piece of electrical equipment they probably cannot afford and do not need. “I got a Dyson but I don’t even know if I want it. I just picked it up,” Louise Haggerty, a 56-year-old hairdresser and waitress told The Guardian. She had been at Sainsbury’s in Haringey, North East London and recounted the story of a woman who had been second in the queue but who had been knocked out of the way by some feral oiks as the doors opened and had failed to get into the store in time to buy a bargain, not even an out-of-date Amstrad. 

And this is WTF’s question. What the actual fuck? How desperate do you have to be to watch Keith Lemon in high definition that you would climb over a couple of pensioners and smack someone in the mouth? Do these pathetic, Godless people really have nothing else in their lives that they need to assault people in the name of a bargain? This is replacement ritual invented by American retailers to replace the festivals of Olde Englande. Did our band of brothers, those few, those happy few, go home and boast of their triumphs? Or (some hope) did they sit down to watch The Jeremy Kyle Show on their new acquisition with a creeping sense of shame? Because if they didn’t, they should have.

We turn to the week’s sartorial slag heap, starting with Julianne Moore wearing Givenchy at the Gotham Awards.

WTF loves Julianne who combines brains, beauty and talent but this is bad. First, the dress is something to be worn by a cross-dressing Roman Centurion. More offensive than the dress are the patchily-fake-tanned legs complete with foot blotch. Julianne has beautiful, pale skin to go with her gorgeous red hair. No one is supposed to have legs the colour of tangerines and certainly not her. 

A few weeks ago we saw Solange Knowles in a ridiculous caped pantsuit on the way to get married, and now here she is in a preposterous pair of pantaloons and a bandage by Rosie Assoulin.

Never mind the 1001 nights, you could get 1001 people into those trousers and still find room for Ali Baba And Widow Twankey. As for the bandage, it doesn’t fit, it doesn’t flatter and it is an underboob moment waiting to happen.

Here is mega-model Alessandra Ambrosio at the Victoria’s Secret London Show after-party wearing Balmain.

This lattice-work Minge Moment is just terribly, terribly, terrible. The breasts are pushed up to her chin and it looks as if she is standing behind a large gate. She had better be careful or Andrew Mitchell MP will try and ride his bicycle through her.

Also attending the after party were Duran Duran singer Simon Le Bon and model wife Yasmin Le Bon.

It is legitimate to ask why Simon is using his scarf as a cock cloth – has his zip suffered a malfunction?  The whole outfit is very Teddy Boy and the shoes look like spats stuck onto a large pair of bricks. He is hunched forward and should emulate George Osborne and Call Me Dave and go on their buddy diet. As for Yasmin, she is wearing layer upon layer upon layer of sheer fabric like Salome’s (beautiful) mum and those sparkling tits are just so wrong.

To the British Fashion Awards in London which were no advertisement for British Fashion. Some people were not even wearing British Fashion, which seemed a bit pointless, like going to an Arsenal Supporters Club party in a Tottenham shirt. Here is a mixture of Brit and non-Brit nastiness, starting with singer Ella Eyre wearing River Island.

River Island is High Street not Haute. High Street can be fab but this is not fab. Indeed, it is a long way north of fab. It might have helped had Ella taken two sizes up, worn something other than a sports bra and chosen a coat which did not resemble the remnants of an animal caught in a trap. And as for the badger’s bum hair….

Next up, we have Rihanna wearing Stella McCartney.

This is the posh equivalent to wearing your boyfriend’s jacket to go out, only here your boyfriend is Mr Blobby.

And then there was Rita Ora wearing Tom Ford. Who is American.

WTF hates bondage chic and this is bondage without the chic, all black lines in every direction like an art student trying to copy a Mondrian. WTF hopes to live long enough to see the day when Rita goes on the Red Carpet without dressing as a Las Vegas showgirl on the game.

Once again, @sairsebourke has raised an issue for It’s Got To Go which is perfectly expressed and needs no enhancement from me. Her topic is smears. Not the legs in stirrups variety or the political sort but the cheffy sort. I look at a menu offering something tasty with a purée of something or other and think “ooh posh mash, I’m hungry so I’ll go for that”. And what comes? A weeny bit of veg plonked on the plate and then spread like a skid mark on a pair of boxers discarded by the loo in your local Wetherspoons. Worst of all, it tends to dry out, so any foodie loveliness has evaporated. It is wanky and It’s Got To Go.

OK Readers, that’s your lot for this week. Keep those top comments coming in as well as your excellent suggestions for It’s Got To Go and let us meet again next Friday. By the way, the winner of last week’s poll was Bai Ling with 46% of the vote. Bleona was second. Be good x

Hallo Readers,

Afternoon tea at Claridge’s is an elegant affair. For a mere £50 a head, waiters hover topping up the teapot as you feast on a selection of finger sandwiches, pastries various and freshly-baked scones served with cream and “Marco Polo jelly”, (whatever the hell that is). For £61, you can have a glass of champagne with it, and if you want to push the boat right out across Brook Street, for £74 you can upgrade to Laurent Perrier pink champagne. Lou Burns, her mother and her sister were snacking on smoked salmon and Lou’s 12 week old daughter was snacking on Lou and everyone was having a lovely time until a waiter appeared with a giant table napkin and politely suggested that Lou’s right breast and baby Burns should disappear under it. Lou’s afternoon concluded with her looking like a piece of furniture half-covered by a dust sheet in the middle of a move and she felt, with some justification, that she had not received the hospitality for which the hotel is world famous. 

WTF is puzzled. Every week, this blog features women hobbling about in high heels with their breasts heaving, nipples on the verge of escape or clearly visible through sheer tops. Every week, 5.6m people read The Sun whose page 3 is adorned with a photo of a gormless girl with giant knockers, her nipples out and proud. Every day, billboards show naked ladies writhing about to flog all manner of products. Given that baby Burns was fastened onto Lou’s nipple, what was actually on display? Baby’s head would have obscured both the breast and the nipple. Do you suppose that Claridge’s staff would approach Lauren Goodger, whose breasts are tumbling forth in one of the pictures below, or Rita Ora, who is giving us a double-split minge moment in a skirt the size of one of those little sandwiches, and ask them to cover up under a giant table napkin? But the very sight of baby Burns suckling at her mother’s breast apparently so upset people spreading Marco Polo jelly on their dinky little scones that a minion was despatched to dangle the damask. Frankly, WTF thinks it is a damn sight more offensive that Claridge’s has the effrontery to charge £74 for a tea and a glass of bubbly. Let baby Burns take her sustenance wheresoever and whensoever she chooses. Why don’t we all just grow up and readjust our values?

We start our review of the week’s sartorial sewage with new singing sensation,  Charli XCX wrapped in gold foil like a suicidal Christmas turkey.

It’s C-P30 meets Barbarella.  The tit detail is quite, quite horrible. the shoes are horrible. The whole thing is decidedly horrible. 

Next up we have Gwen Stefani wearing who knows what at the launch of Pharrell Williams’ range for Adidas.

There is fun. And there is folly. This left folly behind about 100 miles back and turned left at “you’re having a laugh”. WTF can only conclude in general that Gwen’s admiration for Pharrell’s stratus has clouded her judgment.

To the premiere of  the movie Into The Woods and lovely Welsh actress Erin Richards of Being Human and Gotham fame, wearing a Vera Wang top, The Row trousers and Roberto Cavalli boots.

No self-respecting dog would want this outfit for its dinner. Even a dog down on its luck with esteem issues would baulk at it. The top is from a practice run at one of Kim Kardashian’s three Wang wedding dresses (you know, the marriage lasting 20 minutes to Wotsisname) and the boots are down to Signor Cavalli’s usual standard of tackiness with an extra helping of tack. The look is sort of Miss Haversham meets a very camp Dick Turpin and not in a good way.

Also in attendance at the premiere was actress Alyssa Milano wearing Dolce & Gabbana.  

Alyssa had a baby 3 months ago and is a strong supporter of breastfeeding in public, bless her, so it pains WTF to observe that this bottle-green, medieval serving wench outfit with its distracting flesh-coloured lining is a shocker. Hate the tattoo. Hate the shoes. Hate the matchy-matchy clutch. Thumbs down all round.

It’s two weeks running for Rita Ora, this time wearing Fausto Puglisi.

This is less a skirt and more a double-slit minge shield. Close up it is even worse.

There is a distinctly pervy Roman vibe here, what with the jewelled minge shield and the circulation-stopping sandals and the necromancer’s sweatshirt. WTF has come to bury Rita not to praise her. This compulsive, not to say repulsive, exhibitionism has gone too far. Call for the men in white coats!  

Here is Donna Karan wearing herself.

Designers in their own dud kit fall into the category of “Designers Who Need To See A Doctor” but even a combination of Professor Magdi Yacoub, Dr Christian Barnard and Dr Ross off ER could not revive this particular corpse. She could be in a remake of Rob Roy set in Manhattan and featuring a fight with a mangy, tartan-clad elk.

To The Clothes Show in Birmingham, we meet ex-TOWIE, desperate selfie-taker and nonentity Lauren Goodger wearing low-budget label Lasula.

The problem with Lauren is that having tasted  fame in TOWIE, she now finds herself with neither talent nor brains fighting for oxygen on Planet Celebritee and struggling to find her USP.  Her only option is to post endless selfies of her bits and simultaneously boring us to death with her perceived weight issues. The dress is £16, which is £15 too much and the tit porthole is probably not up to the job. It is hard to discern whether Lauren or the dress looks the cheaper.

Here is the opposite of cheap, the wonderful Dame Helen Mirren wearing Alessandra Rich.

Helen! No! No! No! She wore this horror at Deauville in September and here it is again, only this time worn off one shoulder. No one should wear a see-through skirt but certainly not a grande dame like Dame Helen. Stop. It. Now.

To London and the BBC Music Awards where we come upon singer Ellie Goulding wearing Jean-Paul Gaulthier.

Overcooked salmon pink with laced trousers like Robin Hood is bad enough. But then we get to the side view..

Ellie joked that at least she wouldn’t get sweat patches. But better sweat patches than side boob. This is why the Good Lord invented deodorant…

This week’s It’s Got To Go is suggested by an irate WTF of Islington who is fed up to the back teeth with those bloody smartphone apps supposedly there to let you park without fuss. Except that often they don’t work and you are left on the pavement like a prat in the pissing rain staring at a message which says “No connection” or watching it buffering away. At which point, as a traffic warden hovers, positively slavering at the thought of sticking a penalty notice on your windscreen, you dial the pay-by-parking number only to be met by an electronic voice advising you at 20 pence a nano-second that “Smartphone users, for quicker and easier payments why not go to the mobile website?”. Which is where you have just come from and which has given you the runaround. It’s Got To Go.

OK Readers, that’s your lot for this week. Next Friday will be the last blog of the year with January bringing you the 2014 Christmas Turkey Poll. Keep those comments coming in and be good x

Hallo Readers,

2014 has been in the main a depressing year, full of horrors, disappointments and inadequacies and 2015 probably won’t be any better. Apart from anything else, there is an General Election due and there is no choice to speak of; a weak Prime Minister devoid of ideas; an Opposition Leader devoid of charisma, overladen with adenoids and, it appears, the ability to remember what he ought to be talking about; the minor Coalition Leader as much use as a chocolate teapot; and the rise of matey, xenophobic, racist, ugly little Englanderism that is UKIP, the only party on the up whilst the others watch their vote melting away faster than the Polar icecap. Come May, a LibDem MP will be rarer than rocking horse shit and the Scottish Labour Party might also realise that their assumption that people will vote for them is as arrogant as it is misguided. Be prepared – it is going to be ugly.

The problem is that those voting UKIP are about the only ones who actually know what they are voting for. No more Eurocrats. No more immigration. No more Human Rights Act. No more impertinent foreign judges imposing laws on us, asking us to treat people properly and let them practice their religion and not be humiliated because they are fat and need help to work properly. Hell no. What the rest of us will be voting for remains to be seen. It doesn’t help that this has been another year of MPs showcasing their callousness, venality, idiocy and snobbery without a scintilla of shame between them, from Maria Miller’s arrogant outrage at Parliament presuming to ask her why she claimed that the house she lived in with her husband, children and parents was not her principal residence and her perfunctory, grudging apology, to Brooks Newmark, the Minister for Civil Society tweeting pictures of the member of the Member for Braintree to a woman he had never seen, to Boris Johnson blithely breaking his Mayoral electoral promise that he would not stand for Parliament until his term ended in 2016 to Emily Thornberry, a Labour MP (WTF’s MP) showing contempt for the very people she is supposed to be fighting for and then (worse) trying to blag her way out of it. And that is before we get to the cover-ups, the paedophile enquiry that is still waiting for its Chair 6 months after it was set up and the Chilcot Enquiry into the Iraq war that is yet to see the light of day 3 years after hearing the evidence. You’ll grow old waiting for that one…..

So WTF is not impressed by 2014 and has fairly low expectations of 2015. But when it all seems to be going tits up and wars are waged and people die senselessly across the globe and shits prosper (yes, you Tony Blair), you can always cheer yourself up with some extremely silly people wearing some extremely silly clothes. See you next year guys…

Let us start our survey of the week’s sartorial shockingness with one of year’s stars, singer Kiesza wearing very, very bizarre trousers.

What the hell?? WTF could live with the jacket and the jeans and would probably have been able to overcome the sports bra but those things around her ankles look like the tents they put up around the stiffs when the forensic scientist pops over to give a provisional time of the death and makes eyes at the handsome Dectective Inspector……

Then we have actor Jack Black wearing a daft teeshirt by The Mountain.

Oh dear Lord. This is less Lion King and more pillock. And what a bad-tempered animal (not Jack)! You wouldn’t want to film Born Free with that lion, it would chomp its way through Virginia McKenna and that bearded bloke before you could say Matt Munro (click the link, younger Readers).

Next we have country singer Miranda Lambert wearing Alon Livné.

Miranda’s good ole country girl image meshes poorly with this dress and its titsy bodice which looks as if a cageful of malevolent snakes has gone for a walk on her chest. And look how very uncomfortable she looks. The poor love is absolutely mortified and with good reason…..

Back again we have actor Ansel Elgort known for Divergent, The Fault is In Our Stars and Insurgent, looking like an overgrown boy scout.

Dib, dib, dib. What the hell is he wearing? He looks like a dweeb, especially that ridiculous hat and the uber-shiny boots. He also bears an uncanny resemblance to a young Ricky Butcher in EastEnders. This is not a compliment.

Singer Charli XCX is back again only 7 days after her debut in this blog, wearing not much. And what there is is putrid.

Charli is dressed as a rampant rabbit with peekaboo bobtails. Though if you are a rabbit, wearing rabbit arse on your shoes is a bit Hannibal Lector isn’t it? Like wearing a human head on your handbag….

We now have Lenny Kravitz wearing St Laurent and French shocker, singer Shy’m wearing who the hell knows what? 

This is a gruesome twosome if ever there was one. Shy’m is dressed as Adolf Hitler in drag as a dead geisha girl. Black lipstick is never a good idea unless you are going for the necrophiliac market. As for Lenny, his studded suede jacket is pretty cool but the string vest with its attached silver loo chains, red leather trousers and leopardskin booties are the pits.

And it’s three strikes and OUT for Rita Ora wearing Ulyana Sergeenko.

That’s it. Rita has followed Kim Kardashian out of the blog into @WTF_EEK only (what do you mean, you don’t do Twitter? This is nearly 2015 for Heaven’s sake.) The criminal equivalent of dressing like this gets you into Sing-Sing on a one-way ticket. Ulyana’s clothes are usually ludicrous and this is unusually ludicrous, combining tart and vicar in one outfit to reflect the economic hardship of the times, made worse, were such a thing even possible, by the addition of shiny sausage-skin tights.

This week’s It’s Got To Go comes at the suggestion of WTF aficionado David Bowden who takes great exception, and rightly so, at the utterly preposterous male fashion trend of shrunken, silly little arse-freezing jackets – what WTF has described as the Norman Wisdom look.

David, clearly a man of great taste, points out that the wearers must be putting the jackets into the washing machine at 60 degrees and ignoring the “Dry Clean Only” label. He comments that “they look silly – such a waste”. Well said sir……

OK Readers, that’s your lot for 2014. Happy Christmas, Chanukah, Winterval, whatever. WTF is off to sunny climes for her holidays and frankly she can’t wait. On 2 January 2015, you will be feasting on the WTF Christmas Turkey when you will have a fortnight to vote early and vote often for the worst fashion horrors of the last 6 months. WTF, bronzed and benevolent (well, you never know….) will  be back in business on Friday 16 January to pitch in right at the start of the major awards season and more bad clothes than you can shake a stick at. Be good xx