Here we go again. In this, Chapter Eleventy-Eleven of my rants about grooming comes a fresh atrocity. At a stupid awards show [some redundancy] in Britishland recently, we were greeted by the following appearances.
Of course, Carol Vorderman looked lovely, as always:
…as did perennial hottie Nicola Roberts:
Then we have this totty, who was clearly in the back of the “Class” handout line:
But mostly, it seems, the other ladies got the picture (names, mostly, are irrelevant from here on):
Her date, on the other hand, looked like this:
Are you kidding me? A formal affair, but without a tie and no socks? Brace yourselves, folks, because it gets worse. Much worse, because the “she lovely, he unspeakable” trend is going to continue.
For an afternoon garden party, his outfit might do (apart from the “dress shoes but no socks” thing, again), but for a formal evening occasion?
Then there’s this moron:
Ummm… light-brown shoes with a dark-blue suit, in the evening? (Although he does get some kudos for the belt-shoes match, which seems to be all but forgotten nowadays.) But he’s positively sartorial compared to these three twits:
A shiny light-blue suit, a suit of menstrual-red hue (neither with socks), along with a snot-green outfit (with a collarless shirt, and We Will Not Discuss The Shoes)… I bet their mothers are all very proud of them.
It gets worse. Try this pimp outfit:
Now we’re reduced to wearing our bedroom slippers to formal occasions, are we?
The parade of foulness goes on and on, but nothing — repeat nothing — can prepare us for Simon Cowell’s appearance at this glittering occasion:
And lest you think that I took that pic from somewhere else, herewith the proof that I didn’t:
It’s not enough that some day (during the reign of World-Emperor Kim), Cowell will be tried and executed for Crimes Against Music, without having Terminal Fashion Rudeness added to the charges. I don’t care how much money he has, he’ll always be a bloody peasant.
I’m sick of it, this ongoing display of No Fucking Class (see title for acronym). It’s high time that these events instituted a dress code, and enforced it. If people like the ones below got the memo (more or less), there’s no excuse for dressing like utter boors and slobs.
(I know, Robbie Williams needs a suit that’s a size or two larger, but he’s a former pop idol, so we make allowances, yes?)
And of course, Holly Willough-Boobies looked lovely, as always:
…although she needs to find another hair stylist.
I’m never going to quit banging on about this stuff, because it just gets up my nose. All the above men can afford to have tailored suits made — and proper suits for formal occasions, especially — which makes their slobbery all the less excusable. And women need to stop enabling this behavior, and must refuse to go out with them dressed like that.
And now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to stick pins into that Simon Cowell doll.