Political Statements v Fashion Statements ©
By Michael Casey
Well what a week we are having in Politics, it’s been an interest of mine since I watched Robin Day with my dad on tv, nearly 50 years ago now, where have all the years gone? We’ve also had news about Posh Spice being bailed out by Beckham, which is the more important you can decide for yourself, if you are female no doubt the size of IDS’s lapels is of extra ordinary importance, it makes your eyes water just thinking about them. The size of somebody’s lapels may or may not be connected to the size of their majority, or hands, if you know what Trump is on about.
In England people, or rather politicians say something without saying something, or even anything. Then they go on political interview shows to say the same thing over and over again, without even saying anything at all. They never want to be nailed down to say anything just in case they cannot deny it in the Future. On Fox news in the USA they’ll say he’s a SOB, but in the quaint nice way Southerns say things, I do have a soft spot for the Country and Western way they speak.
As for Fashion, everything is a statement, it screams and shouts, and lets it all out, especially now that we have FAT models, though they are too pretentious to say FAT models, and yes I am still livid because I was not chosen to be one.
Once Fashion has gotten over its fixation with Black, which is just a ruse to hide FAT, then it IS much more interesting. Some of the Fashion really are works of Art, there was a show on tv that explained it all to me, and yes I was converted, I think it was Karl Lagerfeld who has the different coloured gloves from when he is working to his normal day wear. My own daughter wears her old horrid glasses when she is studying and her fancier ones when she is trying to look fashionable, the frames she stole from me, but that’s another story. Judging by the scores she gets, the method really does work.
So we have the idea of bright and brash fashion, and the dull politics we have here in England, though if you are a Politics Nerd then this weekend is like 4th July, or should I say Bonfire Night 5th November. So what if Karl Lagerfeld got his hands on our Politicians.Cameron is wearing a pair of clowns shoes and a see-through shirt split to the navel to display his six pack, with skin tight trousers to display his plump derriere, with a blue, very bright blue Bolero jacket, he is a Tory after all and blue is his colour. His hair is in a Mohican style, with all the colours of the rainbow sprayed on, we are all in this together after all, the colours represent all the strands of society.
Jezza Corbyn has been first dipped in sheep dip, Karl Lagerfeld refused to touch him without that first being done. Jezza Corbyn has had his beard dyed and clipped, he looks like Van Dyke now, not Dick Van Dyke with a fake London accent, but the painter. He has a designer T shirt, with a hand painted design on it, “Winner”, what that really means Karl Lagerfeld refuses to say, and he’s not the kind of person you annoy by asking such questions to. Jezza has red cords on, he stubbornly insisted on these, so Karl Lagerfeld has hand painted windmills all over them with the Haywain stamped on both back pockets.
As for the Scots Nats, they are all wearing Manchester United shirts, which may or may not have anything to do with football, or it could mean they are sulking and taking the ball back home with them. On their trousers is a graph of oil prices, it ends in the turn-ups, with the word Black Hole hand painted on.
All in all quite a fashion show, our clothes define us, and hint to what we really are. As for me, you have all seen my photo attached to my pieces of writing, not just vanity but I hope you like seeing just who wrote this or that, nearly 1300+ pieces now, not forgetting the 600page comedy drama novel too. So I said to Karl, and yes I do call him Karl Get The Lagers In, and he does give me a pint of Stella Artois, he just drinks Perrier water by the pint, so I said Karl how about dressing me.
When Karl stopped laughing he changed his gloves, not to his work gloves or any of his exotic pairs, he put a pair of sterile surgery gloves on. Three hours later he said I could open my eyes, you are dressed better than an Emperor he intoned. I looked into the huge mirror, and indeed I was dressed in the Emperor’s New Clothes, I was naked, but spray painted in gold.
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this is an old piece to keep you going while I have a rest.
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