From a wardrobe malfunction to a riposte

Singer/songwriter Amanda Palmer suffered a wardrobe malfunction during this year’s Glastonbury Music Festival, much to the glee of an anonymous reporter at the London Daily Mail.

The headline the next day was a screamer:

Making a boob of herself! Amanda Palmer’s breast escapes her bra as she performs on stage at Glastonbury

And there were pictures, four of them, including one display the tiniest outer margin of a left aureola, which had escaped the confines of her bra. And for the online edition, there was video, too.

No biggie for Palmer, whose costumes are often on the skimpy side. Besides, the oops was only visible to folks seated immediately below the stage.

But the paper’s hyperbolic angered Palmer, mostly because the paper is always on the prowl for wardrobe malfunctions and otherwise embarrassing photos of women.

So she wrote the world’s best letter to the editor, just dispatched in a performance this week.

Without further ado, here’s the decidedly NSFW “Dear Daily Mail” via vlogger Amy Jolly:

The lyrics [posted here]:

Dear Daily Mail,
It has come to my recent attention,
That my recent appearance at Glastonbury Festival’s
Kindly received a mention,
I was doing a number of things on that stage
Up to and including singing songs – like you do!
But you chose to ignore that and instead you published
A feature review of my boob

Dear Daily Mail,
There’s a thing called a search engine – use it
If you Googled my tits in advance you’d have found
That your photos are hardly exclusive,
In addition you state that my breast had escaped
From my bra like a thief on the run,
How do you know that it wasn’t attempting
To just take in the rare British sun?

Dear Daily Mail,
It’s so sad what you tabloids are doing,
Your focus on debasing womens’ appearances
Devolves our species of humans,
But a rag is a rag, and far be it from me,
To go censoring anyone — oh no,
It appears that my entire body is currently
Trying to escape this kimono!

Dear Daily Mail,
You misogynist pile of twats,
I’m tired of these baby bumps, vag flashes, muffintops,
Where are the news-worthy cocks?
When Iggy, or Jagger, or Bowie, go shirtless
The news barely causes a ripple,
Blah blah blah feminist, blah blah blah gender shit,
Blah blah blah OH MY GOD NIPPLE

Dear Daily Mail,
You will never write about this night,
I know that because I’ve addressed you directly
I’ve made myself no fun to fight,
But thanks to the internet people all over the world
Can enjoy this discourse,
And commune with a roomful of people in London
Who aren’t drinking Kool-Aid like yours

And though there be millions of people who accept
The cultural bar where you have it at it,
There are plenty of others who are perfectly willing
To see breasts in their natural habitat
I keenly anticipate your highly literate
Coverage of upcoming tours
Dear Daily Mail,
Up Yours.

The Daily Mail does have at least one thing going for. Unlike so many other newspapers in Old Blighty, at least it isn’t owned by Rupert Murdoch.