Image: johnrieber.com
I didn’t go to Toronto Fashion Week last night because I was high. On Tylenol daytime, Tylenol nighttime, and a little chaser I call imitation, Life Brand Neo Citron (it’s called Hot Lemon, and extra strength means extra strength). I had a full-blown cold, and I was spinning. Following Fashion Week on medicine is a little like going to see a movie after you’ve digested a pot brownie. The whole experience seems much more cerebral than it actually is. I have nothing to say about anything that happened last night except that I really want a pair of ladies floral Doc Martens, and that I thought it was a good idea to post a shirtless photograph on Instagram. And that, friends, is the downside of getting sick. Out with the double kissing, in with the fist bumping. In place of a day four report, here are the changes to the fashion week environment that me and my roommate Audrey Wu thought up:
– Instead of ceramic tile company-sponsored Nadege macarons, Audrey would like to see batter-dipped, bacon-wrapped hot dogs, of both the waffle batter and non-waffle batter variety.
– Toronto Fashion Week should be Murder Mystery dinner theatre, and someone should fake-die at the beginning of every show. There should be a loud scream, and a prop candlestick should be rested next to the victim. NO EXCEPTIONS.
– Less photo opportunities. How many sponsored step and repeats and photo booths are really required in one space? Take one out, and have a turkey carving station.
– I would keep the tuna salad sandwiches in the Target Media Room as they are, even though I’ve been sneaking in without a pass to eat them with Dan Levy.
– Build-A-Bear station, with life-sized bears to help with the process
Ed note: Sorry, Kevin. Joe Fresh already brought Build-A-Bear to Fashion Week last season:
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Kevin Naulls is a Toronto-based writer and former editor of The Goods and The Hype at Torontolife.com. Follow him on Twitter @kevinjn.
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