Tuesday, September 8, 2009

Waving the white flag after Labour Day. And hey, where did you get that cute wooly bugger.

If by Labour Day they mean spending the entire day working your way through the snack cupboard watching stunningly beautiful Russians (or butt ugly Russians, as it appears there are no middle-of-the-road Russians) playing tennis – then I laboured. I laboured hard.

By the time Monday night rolled around, I was fighting the dog for the last bite of kibble, the US Open was half over, and I still hadn't rotated my wardrobe. My crisp, pastel linen blouses, flirty sundresses and slim, white capris were still in the summer section of my lavender-scented closet. Lazy ol' me hadn't taken the day to transition my cashmeres and tweeds out of the cedar-lined closet and into my fall/winter walk-in closet.

Fuckin, as if.

My fall wardrobe transition consists of a few deep knee bends and some kegel exercisies trying to see how badly my one pair of Levi's had shrunk while lying in the bottom drawer all summer. I blame the humidity. Spending the summer in elastic waist shorts and stretchy tennis skirts makes for a rude awakening the morning after Labour Day.

So, I have decided to surrender the sweatpants and spruce up my fall wardrobe, by first doing a little research into what's hip and trendy for the fall of '09. Naturally, I bought Vogue. It's so reassuring to know that the September issue of Vogue magazine weighs more than some of their models.

The good news is: saddle bags are finally in. I was so excited to read this I almost peed my pants, but then I realized they were talking about giant leather purses and not thighs, so my excitement was short lived.

I am also overjoyed to announce that candlestick, or matchstick jeans, are the latest in denim. Candlestick. Matchstick. I cannot wait to try a pair on. I can picture myself sweating on the floor of the Gap change room, trying to wedge my ass into a pair of pants designed to fit a six-foot putting iron with bulimia nervosa, while some size 0 wearing a headset stands outside asking if I, like, need anything. "Yes, Tiffany, I need a fucking life and a smaller ass. Could you run and fetch me some!".

If looking like a stick isn't your thing, the "boyfriend" jean is very hot. I don't know about you, but I am going out to find the biggest, fattest boyfriend I can get my hands on just so I can borrow his jeans, then dump his fat ass.

Next there's the short sleeved cardigan. So practical for a Canadian winter spent huddled over the exhaust fan out behind the rink built in 1967, hoping to Christ I can catch a buzz from the Zamboni fumes leaking out into the arctic air. I will be so thankful to be wearing a white cotton blouse with cuffs under my short sleeved cardigan.

Red is also in. Not good, unless you are Mrs. Claus or weigh 96 pounds soaking wet in a pair of dipstick jeans.

Leopard print is very in. Oh goody. Ever since someone made a mooing sound when I walked by – Jeff Taylor I think it was – I have avoided wearing anything that made me look like livestock or an endangered species. That reminds me. Leather pants are in.

Oh, I could go on forever, but I have some shopping to do. I am looking for chain bedazzled booties. Sequins for day. One shoulder dresses (also great for the rink). Oversized earrings. Anything with shoulder pads. Oh, and thigh-high boots. I know exactly where I am going for those: Fishing Fever on Agricola. I was there last week replacing Jack's fly fishing vest and I spotted the yummiest pair of hip waders. Why go thigh high when I can make my own trend and go all the way to the top. Soon everyone will want a pair, and unlike fucking broomstick jeans, hip waders are one-size-fits-all. Hip waders are also available in two trendy colour ways: camouflage and khaki. Hip waders fit perfectly over your jammies and come in especially handy if you are mildy, or even wildly, incontinent. Plus, hip waders are great for shoplifting, or if you forgot your hippie dippie recyclable canvas grocery bags – just think of the shit you can cram down the front, and back, of those things.

And, listen up. I can barley hang a shower curtain, let alone hold my arm above my head whipping it back and forth in an attempt at fly fishing, but have you ever been to Fishing Fever? This cute, little boutique is not only jammed with all sorts of stuff you could potentially pass off as trendy feathered earrings, they also have animal print, or is it camo, never mind, coats and vests. And I read in Vogue that neon pink is in, so neon orange can't be far behind. Plus, when I was there last week I saw several hot looking real men, including the owner. Men who fish, and kill things. Let me tell ya, there's something extremely sexy about a man who can not only catch and clean fish, but can also kill something meaty for dinner. In fact, when I returned home the phone rang and I saw Fishing Fever on call display and for a second I got all hopeful and sweaty, thinking, hey, maybe they liked me and they're calling to see if I wanted to hang on to their rods, or catch some trout down by a cabin in the woods. But, alas, my debit card transaction didn't go through, because I was distracted or had a sudden case of fishing fever, or something.

Oh well. I'll just have to go back and maybe shop for a little vest to go with my new hip waders, because after all, I am the trendsetter to watch this fall of '09.


Fishing Fever is at 2858 Agricola Street in Halifax. They have a basic website www.fishingfever.ca but it's really worth your while to go check out all the rods and poles and guy stuff. Wear something flirty, like a nice, neon one-shoulder dress with oversized earrings or something.