Chameleon Magazine

In the plush velvet womb of The Goring Hotel—where cocktails are christened after politicians and nostalgia drips thicker than the gravy on a Sunday roast—Charles Moore sat reminiscing about his two decades in Thatcher-land. Yes, the man who gave up 22 years of his life to write three massive tomes about Britain’s handbag-wielding Iron Lady has now boiled it all down into one “single malt” edition, neat and ready for mass consumption. Margaret Thatcher, a woman who managed to privatise everything except her hair lacquer supplier, now even has her own cocktail at the bar: the BLT (Baroness Lady Thatcher). Presumably best served cold, with a garnish of milk snatched from schoolchildren.

🥂 Thatcher: Equal Parts Gin, Steel, and Existential Loneliness

Moore describes her as electric, evasive, funny, dogmatic, and endlessly in need of love—basically your average Tinder bio, but with nuclear weapons. She wasn’t just “divisive”; she was the human embodiment of Marmite smeared across the national psyche. She adored company, loathed unions, and believed in the free market so passionately she probably tried to auction off her own reflection. And yet, according to Moore, there was warmth, humour, and even vulnerability lurking under that helmet of Aquanet.

It’s hard not to laugh at the irony: a woman who sold off council houses and industries like they were clearance stock at Woolworths now reduced, herself, to a single drink on a cocktail menu. But maybe that’s the perfect Thatcher legacy—commodified, polarising, and garnished with a lemon twist of controversy.

🚽 The People’s Verdict: Drowning in Her Legacy

But let’s not dress it up with cocktail umbrellas—working people got the sharp end of the sell-off stick. The “freedom” she promised turned into water companies dumping raw sewage into rivers while charging champagne prices. 💩💦 The once-proud railways? Now the most expensive in Europe, where a single off-peak ticket requires a small mortgage and a priestly blessing. 🚆💸 Energy, housing, post—everything flogged, everything worse, everything costing more.

The British people were told they were shareholders in some grand national dream. Instead, they ended up shareholders in misery—sick of the profiteering, sick of the lies, and very literally sick of swimming in privatised sewage. Thatcher sold the family silver, the table, and the chairs—and now we can’t even afford a bus seat to complain about it.

🔥 Challenges 🔥

Did Margaret Thatcher “save” Britain—or just auction it off piece by piece until nothing was left but mouldy sandwiches and sky-high train fares? 🤯 Was the Iron Lady a visionary, or simply the patron saint of corporate rip-offs?

💬 Spill your rawest Thatcher rants below: sewage, trains, energy bills—we want the whole rotten buffet.

👇 Hit comment, hit like, hit share. Drown this legacy in well-deserved sarcasm.

The best burns will be featured in the next issue of the magazine. 📝🔥