Once a Faux Pas, Always a Personal Staple: Fashion Week Edition

If you don't follow me here and here for the inexcusable reason of having more important things to read such as up-to-the-minute international politics and current affairs, then I truly advise you to continue what you are doing because I am about to discuss the benefits of wearing mullet silhouettes and bathing suit bottoms in public and you are likely to get much, much less cultured.

Just kidding. Maybe. Anyways, For this year's edition of Montreal Fashion Week, my mantra of dress revolved around the bringing back of fashion's Do-Nots and making them fashion Do-it-Anyways'. I was open to anything and everything. Except for nipple tassels. Those are never ok. 

Shall we analyze?

DAY 1:

The Mullet Dress: Mullets, remember those? Oooooh ya. Except this time I wore one on my ass.

The Fanny Pack: A little bit higher up to the hip level but equal in "What the hell are you wearing?" merit, I can  only be thankful that most of the men in attendance were biologically programmed to find me sexually unappealing anyways.

DAY 2:

The Swim Suit Bottom: High-waisted and shorts-like in appearance, I still bought these in the bathing suit section of Value Village. And then I wore them into a cocktail lounge. Can't take me no where.

TRAVIS TADDEO SHOW:

Skunk Hair: Because, if you would so kindly read the caption below, the Montreal Gazette thinks that I have "skunk hair." And ya know, there's nothing more subversive than mimicking your look to that of a foul-smelling and primitive rodent.

For more tom-foolery and counter-productive banter, read my MFW coverage so far chez Miss Sly.

Let's Get Nake...Dressed? Montreal Fashion Week #23

Oy, boys, girls, and undecideds, 'tis the season to be not only jolly, but also fully and hopefully fashionably clothed as per Contractual Term #1 of the Montreal Fashion Week Constitution which clearly states that:

"All attendees must wear the maximum amount of bodily apparel as is humanly possible in order to avoid nudity of any shape or form and to promote the diffusion of sartorial extremism to the lowly masses. This clause makes exception to nipple and genital protrusions witnessed at all runway shows and/or after-parties."

I. don't. make. this. shit. up.

So I deem it not only appropriate (not that anything I've said so far has been appropriate) but also NECESSARY to introduce my soon-to-be-released (note: soon is a very loaded word) new blog, aptly entitled Not a Nudist.

In lieu of this week's prescribed anti-nudity theme and its convenient but probably unintended alignment with my new blog, I promise to attend wearing nothing but...DA DA DAHHHH......CLOTHES! (Novel idea, I know.) But, when I say clothes I mostly mean garments which fall into the category of ridiculousness.

So what will I be wearing? To predict the future, we must look to the past:


Option 1: The Grandma-ma?

Option 2: The Woolly Mammoth?

Option 3: The Angst-Ridden Teen Who Questions His/Her Sexuality?

Option 4: The Hypothermic Winter Clown?

Actually none of the above. Follow to find out. And then check in here to get my post-show recaps. Consider me your election season anti-depressant. Overdosing allowed.