Thank God merry old England is finally starting to put its collective foot down on the subjugating Muslim fashion statement known as the niqab. I can just see the cartoon: a stodgy old pot-bellied magistrate in a powdered wig, turning up his bulbous red nose, stomping his bright-buckled boot down on the trailing fabric of some young Muslim college girl’s pup tent of a dress, tripping her and saying as she falls to the ground “Well!? Who knows what she’s got under there!” Recently Pakistan was asking itself the same question as it tried to squash a rebellion in “The Red Mosque” in Islamabad, where more than a thousand students were being held inside. One of two brothers heading the rebellion there tried to elude the police by leaving the mosque dressed in a black burka, officials said.
Apparently he lacked the daintier figure of the females surrounding him and hadn’t quite mastered his drag queen strut yet. Maybe it was his incredibly manly ankles that gave him away. But the Pakistani police cuffed that “Tootsie” faster than you can say “Maulana Abdul Aziz” (the culprit’s name). It is rumored that his younger brother is still hiding inside the mosque complex. One can’t help but wonder what adorable frock he hopes to wear to mask his mosque escape?
Maybe something like what Jack Lemmon and Tony Curtis wore to get cozy with Marilyn in “Some Like It Hot”?