Talkin' With Tewks: LG Fashion Week

Originally I had planned on writing a scathing demonization of Chipper Jones for his ignorant comments on the social activities (or lack thereof) available in the city of Toronto. Surprisingly, The Toronto Star did an excellent job of responding to this slight by ripping Jones and exposing him as the stupid, redneck, country bumpkin, jackass hick he is.

Instead I will provide a recap of my first foray into the world of high fashion care of the LG Fashion Week which I attended last night. Now you’re probably wondering what business I have attending a fashion event? The answer is none. Do I have style? No. Do people comment on the way I dress? Not positively. Do I own more than two pairs of jeans or wear T-shirts not bought at 80stees.com? No. I consider it a good fashion day if my socks are the same colour and I’m wearing underwear without holes.

So, what was I doing at Fashion Week? It was work related. My company provides sponsorship help to the Fashion Week organizers and they, in turn, give our employees VIP access. I only went because there was an open bar. Free tip: If you want me to attend an event, have an open bar. I would have joined the Manson Family if they had an open bar.

Also, I was somewhat intrigued at the spectacle I knew Fashion Week would provide; I was expecting a scene straight out of Zoolander and I was not disappointed.

The characters at the show I was at were almost indescribable: feathered hair, gallons of makeup, exorbitant jewelry, dishcloths passed off as shirts; and that was just the guys.

My favourite was this dude with his head completely shaved except for tufts of hair up top. He was wearing sunglasses (obviously) but the piece de resistance was the following: a dark blazer with . . . .NO SHIRT UNDERNEATH!!! He was just wearing a blazer; it was awe-inspiring. He looked like a business casual member of the Chippendales.

I just felt bad for the female models. First, none of the ladies were remotely hot; girls that are 5’11” and 85lbs just don’t do it for me. I would feel uncomfortable sleeping with one; I’d be scared their bones would snap in half like Samuel L. Jackson in Unbreakable.

Also, they just looked pissed off the entire time. Probably because they were hungry; I wanted to get them all a pastrami on rye. I was toying with the idea of telling a couple of them they looked fat (you know, because I’m a dick).

Cosmo TV was there interviewing people for an upcoming segment; needless to say, they obviously recognized their second hottest bachelor and procured me for a quick interview. I have no idea what I said because I was three beers deep at that point (which means I was hammered).

I think the interview created some solid buzz among the other VIPs as I soon found myself chatting up a drop dead gorgeous client. We seemed to mesh very well and I put in a solid hour of superhuman flirting. She was smiling a lot and touched my arm so I thought I was golden.

Then she dropped the married bomb. FUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ladies, please do a favour for your pal Tewks. If a guy who you’ve never met is talking to you for more than five consecutive minutes, he is interested in you sexually. If you’re in a relationship, drop that into the conversation very early. Otherwise, it feels like getting kicked in the groin.

And now I have blue balls.

Tewks is a frequent contributor to Gretzpo’s Sports Blog.