Theresa May, the speech, and the ghost of Frida Kahlo

It was to be the I have a British Dream speech that would make British Prime Minister Theresa May appear more human. She achieved her goal and then some, going from the woman who once said the naughtiest thing she ever did was run through a field of wheat, to becoming all-too-human.

There is only one possible explanation for this catastrospeech: Theresa May was being tormented by the ghost of Frida Kahlo as punishment for her choice of statement accessory. Behind a podium, her jewelled bug-encrusted ￡265 shoes by Russell and Bromley partially obscured, she wore a bracelet of Frida Kahlo self-portraits to signal that, although she's a vicar's daughter and a conservative politician, Theresa May has the heart of an artist.

Frida Kahlo was relaxing comfortably in the hereafter, discussing permutations of Permanent Revolution with Leon Trotsky, when word came to her that Theresa May had appropriated her image and was using it as a simplistic signifier of artistic feminism with a hint of deviance. Kahlo was livid.

"Who does this woman with the face of an unbaked roll think she is? Frida Kahlo? There is only one Frida Kahlo who knows nothing of dreams or nightmares. She paints her own reality and she carries a message of pain..."

As she asserted that the left did not have a monopoly on compassion, Theresa May felt a stirring in the back of her throat. She wouldn't call it a tickle--it wasn't that pronounced--it was more like the brush of an eyebrow. She cleared her throat, and the feeling passed. May continued, building to an economic crescendo: the end of communism and the dark days of the iron curtain had given way to free and open markets, the only true agents of collective human progress...

May coughed more strenuously this time, cleared her throat and, as she turned her attention to her rival Jeremy Corbyn, a man appeared seemingly out of nowhere, a prankster bearing a P45 form, the British equivalent of a pink slip, signed by Boris Johnson. Her speech derailed in the first act with the impertinent entrance and quarrelsome exit of the prankster, Theresa May had the sense that something was unraveling, but like Brexit night and election night, it would take some time to play out.

May didn't have to wait long for the second act. To EU citizens fearful of Brexit she had this message: "You are welcome here." cough cough cough "We want you to stay." cough cough. The eyebrow had a mind of its own and was zigzagging up and down her throat. She reached for more water imploring her audience to believe that the British dream is still within reach.

"I drank to drown my sorrows, but the damned things learned how to swim."

Where did that line come from? It wasn't in May's prepared text. By the time she hit "The deficit is down to pre-crisis levels" the scratch had become a full-on attack. Eyebrows clogged her throat and were stifling her speech. "We've created record numbers of jobs" came out of her mouth like a line out of Dickens delivered by a rain-sodden wretch sobbing at the door of an orphanage.

May took another swig of water, but this time the eyebrows wouldn't let it pass. She spit some of it back up onto the back of her hand, and resumed haltingly only to be felled again by the angry eyebrows. The crowd rose to its feet in applause laced with mortification, trying to give her a chance to recover. But it was too late. The headlines had already began writing themselves.

When in the final act the letter F tumbled off Theresa May's BUILDING A COUNTRY THAT WORKS FOR EVERYONE tagline followed by the E, it was clear that something otherworldly had happened. Frida Kahlo, who once laid in state under a Communist flag, chose the F for herself and the E for everyone without a voice.

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About the Author: Although never visited by the ghost of Frida Kahlo, she has experienced a version of the catastrospeech in community theatre where the most basic of instincts landed her on stage delivering an impassioned speech in a chair at the precise level at which the entire audience could look up her skirt. Fortunately she remained unaware of the debacle for several months until her sister finally told her and they could both laugh about it.

Nothing is worth more than laughter. It is strength to laugh and to abandon oneself, to be light. Tragedy is the most ridiculous thing. ~ Frida Kahlo

Have you ever delivered a catastrospeech? Please feel emboldened to share your experience in the comment section below. The best worst experience wins a pair of these delightful Ode to Frida Kahlo crew socks to wear to your next presentation.