Thursday, February 11th, 2010
I saw a newspaper headline the other day that said ‘How to Wear Clogs’ – surely the answer to that would be to not wear them at all? But alas no, apparently clogs are making a comeback now. *sighs* *rubs temples* Is there nothing, NOTHING that we won’t attempt to ‘bring back.’ When clogs went away, they were just ready to give it all up. The retired, maybe bought a nice little condo down in Florida and have been happily playing bingo for years now. Leave clogs alone! Let them live their life!
Alright, fine, since you’re going to back me into a corner, I’ll admit, I did once own a pair of clogs. It was during my hippy/grunge phase in the early 90s. They were red suede. They were acceptable for two reasons; a) because it was the early 90s b) because I was 12. But if you were to see me trying to pull off those clodhoppers today, I would turn my cheek to you myself, making it easier for you to bitch slap me.
But you may be surprised to hear, I’m not actually completely opposed to the return of clogs. Why? Because I see them as a stepping stone…for people who wear Crocs. Perhaps this is one way we can help those idiots to transition into real footwear. It’s all about baby steps. Clogs are kind of a more professional, grown up looking Croc. This could be just the tool we need to help them progress. From Crocs to Clogs, Clogs to a comfortable flat, comfortable flat to a kitten heel, kitten heel to a court shoe, court to a [ring the alarm] STILETTO. See? There’s a method to my madness people.
While yes, Clogs are certainly not very attractive, they are indeed a step up from Crocs. I could handle seeing some of our more fashion-imparied amigos clomping around in Clogs for a while if it meant them not seeing a huge piece of rubber swiss cheese as appropriate footwear. Sometimes we have to endure a little bad to get to the good.
We have a couple of months to prepare ourselves. It’ll be spring before these bad boys burst onto the scene. Let’s all brace ourselves for the loud sound of wood, clogs falling off (stockings are terribly slippy on the wooden insoles of a clog. Accidents can and will happen) and random beatings by clog. But we can get through this together. Remember, if the end result is the end of Crocs, the Clog is a movement we must all get behind.
Wednesday, June 24th, 2009
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!
Monday, December 1st, 2008
At a movie theatre in downtown Toronto on Sunday, as I was waiting for friends, I saw a girl in line for tickets. I did a double take. I think she forgot to get dressed. She was wearing a beat up hoodie, pajama pants and crocs. I’m gonna say that again so you can get the full visual (I tried to take a picture, but my camera exploded – it, rightfully, thought that this particular fashion faux pas should not be recorded for the rest of time): beat up hoodie, pajama pants, crocs. Did you just throw up in your mouth a little bit too? Yeah, try seeing it first hand, homeslice.
Thursday, June 26th, 2008
Just because Kanye does it, don’t make it right. When I look out my venetian blinds in the morning, you know what I don’t think? ‘Hey, I wanna see like this all the time!‘ What useful purpose do these glasses serve? They’re the kinds of things that you get in a christmas cracker (albeit, a huge one) and throw out on Boxing Day because you realise they’re shit. So far, I have seen two people wearing these on the streets of Toronto and I felt an overwhelming urge to lash out. So I would say for the safety of everyone in the city, it’s best that no one else even attempts to wear these.
Socks and Crocs
Come on people. Do I really have to go over this again? We have already established that Crocs are the devil’s work. There is nothing to be done. They are beyond redemption. We know this. So why are some people trying to accessorize that shit? Socks with the crocs? I saw some woman rocking this a couple of weeks ago and damn near puked all over myself. Why would anyone think that is anywhere near appropriate. Must I remind you that we live in a CITY, a very cosmopolitan city at that? So, if you’re a woman and you don’t want to leave your house in stilettos or a fashionable flat, you should really stay your ass in the suburbs. But seriously, don’t ever go to the downtown core of one of the biggest cities in North America rockin’ socks and crocs. What the hell is wrong with you? I cannot single handedly elevate Toronto to ‘Fashion Capital’ status (though Lord knows, I’m trying) – a little help here people!
Over the Top Wimbledon Fashions
Oh Serena, this is a tad much, non? Who do you think you are? Me? This is totally what I would wear if I was ready to destroy the competition at Wimbledon. The only difference is, I would not actually play and ruin a perfectly good outfit with perspiration. It’s a sin. I’m all for showing a bit of flair for style at your work place, but you may as well be wearing stilettos out there for all the good the trench coat’s doing you (and yes, I totally would wear stilettos on centre court, but that’s not the (match) point). Just throw on some Nikes, a sports bra and one of those little pleated skirts and hit a ball around already.
Wednesday, March 19th, 2008
This English guy, set out on a mission to walk to India with no money, relying purely on the kindness of strangers for food and shelter. But he quit after he got to Calais in France, blaming the language barrier. Apparently, because he doesn’t parlez the francais, people thought he was just freeloading. Well, my francais is a bit rusty, but I’m pretty sure that someone traveling from England to India with absolutely no money is kind of the international symbol for ‘freeloader’. Furthermore, it kind of boggles the mind that he didn’t factor in the language barrier issue before setting out on a trip around the globe.
He says he wasn’t freeloading. It was a ‘pilgrimage’ to show that you can get by on the kindness of strangers. Perhaps this little experiment would have worked better in biblical times.
This guy seems like that annoying friend on a night out who never has money for drinks or a cab. This is what happens when you let them get away with it – they think they can take it to a whole new level and go globetrotting without their wallet.
So, for now he plans to just roam around the British coast wallet-free, learn French, then have another crack at his grand voyage to India next year. OK, who’s going to break the news to him that there’s quite a few countries between France and India? This could go on for years; he makes it to Germany, realizes he doesn’t speak German, abandons the whole trip, roams the British coast learning German and sets off again. He makes it to Russia, realizes he doesn’t speak Russian, abandons the whole….here’s hoping he has a very long life expectancy.
I’m moving to Zurich!
OK, I’m totally not moving to Zurich, but according to the latest research, which puts London as the most expensive city in the world to live (yet again), Zurich, it turns out, gives you the most bang for your buck (or Euro, whatever).
Getting it all out there
Newly sworn in Governor of New York, David Paterson, did the ol’ preemptive strike yesterday by fessing up to having an affair a while back. His wife also had one. Can’t anyone keep it in their pants anymore? This reminds me of David Blunkett, former British Home Secretary (also a blind man) who had an affair with a married woman back in 2004.
Lesson of the day: blind men get a lot of ass.
I have a bitch slap with these assholes names written all over it
If I knew their names, that is. I think the chick on the right is one of those 90210 bitches. My hatred of Crocs is well known. I have particular distaste for this hideous Family Von Croc trend. There’s so much wrong with this picture it makes my head hurt. Why do they all look so happy with their Shaq feet? A shirt and tie with white pants and orange Crocs? Seriously? The baby had the right idea. It said ‘screw this shit’ and flung it’s green Crocs right off.
Monday, March 3rd, 2008
Gone are the days of having a ‘ladies night’ at your friend’s house, where some woman comes over to sell you frilly knickers and dildos. Forget having a prim and proper gathering with the Avon lady. The latest exercise in female bonding is the taser party.
Self defense is now sexy. Who wants to sweat it out for hours at Krav Maga when you can just tase the crap out of somebody?
Coming in a variety of styles, from fuchsia pink to leopard print, you can coordinate your weapon of choice with your outfit. Marketing genius, I think we’ll all agree. It’s so lame, I would say ‘someone shoot me now’, but I don’t want to risk some prissy bitch with a plaid print taser gun stepping out of the shadows and taking me up on it.
I’m not sure I fully understand the logic behind the taser party. How do you test the merchandise? Does some poor bugger have to volunteer to be tased? Talk about pulling the short straw.
I’m a lover, not a fighter, so excuse my ignorance, but are tasers even legal?
The customized taser just scratches the surface of weapons aimed at women. Don’t even get me started on the Hello Kitty rifle. And there was me thinking we were the fairer sex. Oh well. Tase on, if you must, sisters. Tase on.
And the world, as we know it, is forever changed
Sometimes it’s hard not to get depressed when you consider that George W Bush has actually been in power for eight whole years, global warming, the Israel-Palestine conflict, Iran’s nuclear weapons, genocide in Darfur, AIDS all over Africa, wars in Afghanistan and Iraq. But the news this week that Crocs has seen a 161% increase in profits, to $168m, is proof that the world, is well and truly, on its ass.
Stop whatever you are doing immediately and report to the dance floor! This new single, by my girl Estelle, is gonna be huge. Estelle has been around for a long time, working her way up that ladder and is finally getting her dues. She’s the first artist on John Legend’s label, Home School and she thoroughly deserves every ounce of success that’s coming to her. If you don’t know, get to know, because this London girl is about to get very big talking about her American Boy.
Warning: It is impossible to get this song out of your head!
Thursday, February 28th, 2008
Yesterday morn, I awoke to the news that England had an earthquake overnight. A little bit of panic stirred in me. I got on all the UK news sites to get the scoop. As I waded through the shocking headlines and read the stories, I found that it had lasted about 20 seconds, one person had been injured and it had left ‘a trail of destruction’ (read: a few tiles fell off a roof somewhere).
Bitch, please! Talk about an overreaction.
I went on Facebook and nearly all my friends in the UK had a status along the lines of ‘So and so felt the earth move last night!’ or ‘So and so was woken up by the shaking!’ Some had even made a crafty joke about how their significant other hadn’t rocked their world, but the earthquake had. Oh, how they slay me.
Now, having lived in Japan, where earthquakes are commonplace, I consider myself well versed in the art of the tremor. So, maybe for me, earthquakes are just passé at this point. Don’t get me wrong, the one in England Tuesday night was a 5.2, which is no baby quake, but it ain’t the mother of all quakes either. And obviously, if you’ve never experienced one before, it is quite a strange sensation, so I can understand the hysteria, up to a point. But the more I read, the more I laughed.
On The Guardian website, Jon Jenken from Bourne in Lincolnshire was quoted as saying: ‘I was woken up. It was hell.’
Really Jon? It was hell? Everyone has different versions of hell I guess. Mine is a big American Apparel store filled with people in leggings, Crocs and Uggs and Jimmy Saville is there, playing bagpipes and an army of Chavs in fake burberry terrorize the ‘posh twats’ and there’s no internet access and all my ex boyfriends are there and there’s all that fire and stuff. But being woken up from my slumber? Annoying – yes. Hellish – not quite.
But, let us not forget, there was one person injured in this mega quake that shook the nation. The poor guy broke his pelvis. I say to him; stick a pack of frozen peas on it. You’ll be fine in a couple of days.
Hopefully everything will get back to normal now. Maybe they could put Jimmy Saville to work clearing up the ‘trail of destruction’ on his way back to hell.
Thursday, January 10th, 2008
In the name of all things holy, put them away already. The death knoll on this trend should have chimed long ago. You might like staring at your camel toe all day, but I don’t. Having lycra eating your crotch can’t be good for feminine hygiene. If you haven’t got a yeast infection yet, you soon will. Seriously, take them off already. Then drag your ass out of American Apparel and go see a doctor. And I’ll make this next point as delicately as I can; I’ve got love for the big girls, but just because they make it in your size, doesn’t make it right. I really don’t care what size, shape, color or age you are, you just shouldn’t be wearing these, just as you definitely should not be wearing…
Every day I ask God to watch over me so I don’t have to unleash my rage on some unsuspecting Ugg wearer. I can’t believe that year after year these things come back to haunt me, I don’t give a crap if they keep your tootsies warm – you look like you just shoved your feet in two loaves of bread. And now they’re coming out with new colors, each one as offensive as the next. There’s a certain type of Ugg wearer that causes me particular disdain. You. Yes, I’m talking to you; white girl between the ages of 15 and 22. You, with the normally mousy brown hair that you’ve highlighted blonde within an inch of its life. You, who during the summer months after frying yourself on a sun bed, puts on a tank top, mini skirt, no tights and Ugg boots. Yes, you. Unless you want me to tackle you to the ground and forcibly remove the mass of sheepskin imprisoning your toes, I strongly advise you to invest in some sandals. Oh and if you must be a habitual offender of this crime against fashion, at least issue a 30 minute warning before removing the boots, because trust me, no one wants to be within a 10 mile radius of you when that happens. But don’t even think about replacing the Uggs with…
If Uggs are the bread, Crocs are the swiss cheese in this unsightly footwear sandwich. I don’t buy the whole ‘I only wear them around the house’ defense. Before you know it, you’re wearing them to the movies and shopping and God forbid…out to dinner. Try as you might, there is no way to make these shoes look good. You might be completely in proportion, but throw on a pair of crocs and you look like you have feet the size of Shaq’s. I don’t care if they’re ‘sooooo comfortable’. That phrase shouldn’t even be uttered before the age of 75. What I find particularly disturbing is the new Family Von Croc trend, where mother, father and child are all donning them. Were they giving them out at the family planning clinic or something? His and hers is bad enough, but His, Hers and Child’s takes you to a whole new league of asshole from which there is no return.