Fashion Road Kill
Yesterday, I took advantage of the nice weather and went shopping.
This particular shopping experience led me to a meltdown, which I documented on Twitter. After two hours of trailing the streets, going in every damn boutique I saw and being beyond disappointed every time, I have finally admitted what I have wanted to admit since I got to this city: I frikkin’ hate shopping in Toronto!
It sucks balls. Big, giant donkey balls. There is no originality in this city at all. Believe it or not, some of us actually want to wear things other than leggings and loose, flowing tops. How are you not over this shit yet Toronto? Seriously.
I went into several ‘independent boutiques’ (all of which are on the same street, I might add) only to find at least four of the exact same dress styles in each one. I would think, before you go through the trouble of opening a store, you would do a little research on what lines other stores are carrying. Apparently, that’s not how people roll in the TDot.
I have often been left speechless, baffled and befuddled at the fashion choices of people here. The abundance of Crocs, the leggings, the being seen in public in your pajamas, the working out at the gym in motherbitching Crocs – and after yesterday’s shiteous shopping experience, I now understand: these poor bastards don’t know any better.
Let me ask you, when were clunky Camper shoes for women in fashion? Apparently they’re all the rage here in Toronto, because every second shoe shop I went in had an extensive collection of clodhoppers. The only people who wear Campers are white people with dreadlocks – that says it all really.
So no wonder people think it’s acceptable to walk around in sweatpants and sports jerseys. They have lost all hope. And I can’t say I blame them. If I owned sweatpants, I would probably be ready to start wearing them myself right about now (with heels though, of course).
The irony of Toronto’s shitty shopping though, is that Toronto has a fashion week. No, really, it does. It likes to put its shitty style on display and try to convince itself that the world gives a shit about it’s poor sense of design abilities.
If you work in the fashion industry in Toronto, I urge you, in the nicest way I know how, to pull your fucking finger out and sort this mess out!
A diva like me needs more than leggings and frikkin’ Camper shoes to make it through! Fix up!