Oh wow... what an experience Toronto Fashion week was. Nestled in the cozy warehouse like atmosphere of Musik, the party looked great. Honestly.

It was akin to getting to the other side of my TV and living Zoolander. I felt like the music, spun by DJ's in every known corner of the building, was announcing the entrance of Hansel - He's so hot right now, Hansel. If you didn't catch that reference I highly recommend you rent Zoolander.

People were so fashionable, they were of the moment, I'm sure some changed their outfits 2 or 3 times in the course of an evening. Images of the faces of L'Oreal were inflated so large, the loomed over the crowd as esthetically perfect guardians of fashion. They could've well been painted on velvet, because their eyes followed you everywhere. I mean everywhere, I could feel their judging glances assess my dress' value at a cool $85.

All I could think was "at least I'm not wearing a $300 fanny pack. I don't care if it has Gucci written all over it. It's an accessory reserved for the elderly, the infirm and boyfriends of porn stars to stash the lube." <-- See Seymour Butts.

Of course, at an event like this there are things you expect. People to blatantly look you up and down, a desperate scarcity of nibblies and noshables and finally an over abundance of wine. The wine that helped me through the evening cope with anorexic models and my lofty size 4 figure. I drank to cope with my fatness. ;)

Conveniently enough, the wine came in bags like Capri Sun. So innovative, you can hook these little beauties up to a dromidary pack and go racing. Dragon Boat races, I finally found a way to make you more entertaining!

What was particularly interesting about the wine tasting, there were 20 exhibitors all with wines that were drinkable like grape juice and all clocked in for less than $15 at the LCBO. I guess after all that splurging on overpriced pants and jackets doesn't leave much for the wine budget. This is how the Toronto fashionista's do it, they are fabulous on a budget. They prioritize their finery starting with clothes and substituting the wine for cocaine.


"She think's it's funny when her nose gose bloody because the blow's so yummy and it keeps her tummy empty and makes her act more friendly." - Mickey Avalon, not singing about Canadian fashionistas.
Talking about empty tummy's, try and find food at Fashion Week, go on I DARE YOU! My friends and I divided and tried to conquer and all we came up with was this:


The Lettuce Eatery.
Delicious meager servings of LETTUCE to fill your ever shrinking belly. How is it that Fashion Week planners know how to make everyone feel like they're fat without ever saying it outright?

Shall I get started on the models? Sisi from CNTM was there working the runway, and I adore her! She should've won, she was stellar on the runway!

The two shows I caught were Juma and David Dixon's Reunion. A show assembled in memory of his recently departed mother.
The models were so thin I thought with each purposely placed stomp I thought their bones were going to snap from the strain. I've seen ballerina's up close, and those bitches ain't got nothing on the deminuative stature of these walking clothe hangers.

There isn't much calcium in iceberg lettuce and carrot shavings.

Needless to say, after all the lack of food and gaunt models, my
friends and I ran to the Hot House for pasta pasta pasta. We ate for our bellies, and those for the starving children of fashion. I felt like Sally Struthers binge eating on twinkies, between commercial takes, in her secret warehouse of food in Ethiopia.

It felt so good, until I wanted to roll into a cab, drowsy and full on wine and gnocchi. Best night ever, and I did look fabulous.