Philippa Mingins

WHEN it comes to rip-offs we are being urged this week to look no further than Prada's white cotton T-shirt, retailing for £270. This Reporter states this does rather, in her opinion, overlook a more glaring and ever present rip-off in our lives, which we will look at more thoroughly in due course. But back to the T-shirt, and words have been voiced over why any right thinking human would purchase the extortionately priced Prada T-shirt when there are all manner of identical alternatives available on the high street? "You get what you pay for" is the mantra from fashion disciples. However, in that case surely we can expect no less than the whole cast of Enid Blyton's magical Faraway Tree involved in the workmanship, weaving well-being and fortitude into every seam. The perfect antidote to the sweatshop. But then we are told over at Primark you can buy a pair of socks and come away with a free human bone. Admittedly that wasn't the original Primark marketing str

COMEDIAN Russell Brand's interview with the Sunday Times has got the country in a tailspin. The gist concerns Mr Brand's "world view" - as he puts it - of being a "sensitive, awake and aware man", clashing, quite considerably, with his responsibilities as a father. To the point, he shamelessly conceded, he'd barely looked after his own children alone in any given 24 hour period. To quote: "I'm very, very focused on the mythical connotations of Mabel's beauty and grace. Not so good on the nappies and making sure they eat food. When I looked after Mabel on her own, she dropped two social classes." Mr Brand appears to seek praise for his decision to opt out of parenthood's contractual obligations as though he is akin to a bad driver taking himself off the road (#PrincePhilip). But for those considerate people, there is the train.  For Mr Brand, there's ending up looking a berk. Sixty-four days to go until we leave the European U

"TIME is not something I acknowledge", said pop diva Mariah Carey on refusing to play ball on the "10 year challenge", posting two identical photographs of herself in a bikini taken ten seconds rather than ten years apart. The concept of time is not something Ms Carey is afraid of. She is not freaked out by the ticking of the clock. She is simply impervious to it. It has no meaning. It does not exist. This is where the similarities between her and Theresa May, the Prime Minister, begin, and end. Sixty-seven days to go until we Brexit. Mrs May is back after surviving yet another no confidence vote by an untriumphant, by nonetheless secure, 19 votes, and immediately launches into "cross party talks". Inviting all major party leaders to "put self-interest aside" and discuss a united way forward to break the Brexit deadlock. It is at this early point in proceedings, she comes unstuck. Labour leader Jeremy Corbyn, who famously said "it's g

SO there we have it, to no ones surprise - least of all the Prime Minister's - Theresa May's proposed Brexit deal has been voted down by Parliament. In an historic defeat of 230 votes as never seen in the democratic era. At least it did, momentarily, bring pro-EU MPs and Brexiteers together, in a game of Lobby football. Before heading back to opposing Commons trenches, to resume knocking seven bells out of each other. And to think this happened when the premise on which Mrs May encouraged MPs to vote, was built upon a lie. The Prime Minister has consistently said to vote down her deal would destroy voters faith in politics, as though the referendum Leave result had been won on a landslide. To extract a line from Monday's pre-vote speech, from a mug factory in Stoke, she said: "People's faith in the democratic process and their politicians would suffer catastrophic harm". But just in case people actually remembered the result, and as a clue it wasn't 89-1

THE sight of a cavalcade of lorries emerging from the fog early on Monday morning, to take their places in a fake Brexit traffic jam, confirmed what we have all been fearing for some time now - we have reached the part in history our ancestors we think, we made up for the laugh. But first we must turn to Prime Minister Theresa May who has entered a vital chapter in her own memoirs entitled: "Will she or won't she secure her deal?" as it dawned on her she faced no other alternative but to put her ill-favoured Brexit plan before Parliament, next Tuesday (Jan 15th). It turns out however, she has a few tricks up her sleeve, including a spot of good old-fashioned schmoozing. Inviting her enemies to a series of drinks receptions at the top end of the week, where she no doubt hoped to lubricate the mood. She says to her staunchest of critics; take these assurances the EU will agree a trade deal by 2021, that Parliament can have more say in the next stage of talks. Remember if

THIS Reporter wishes to express her fathomless thanks to the Westminster crew, none of whom decided to take upon themselves the tired old trope of making new year's resolutions - on off chance a better version of themselves existed - and instead continue in the exact same farcical way they blundered through 2018. Because despite the fact ministers had, in theory, laid their dispatch boxes on beds of tinsel for the duration of Christmastide, there is still much for us to catch up with. First, but by no means foremost, Sajid Javid, Home Secretary - who it has reached This Reporter via the rumour mill likes to call himself "The Saj" - perhaps short for Sergeant but more likely, Sajid - cut short his luxury £1,000-plus a night safari festive break in South Africa to rush back and deal with what he coined a "migrant crisis" but in reality was two brave souls casting out across the Channel in a rubber dinghy. Nevertheless, Javid called for immediate clampdown on th