I've got it all figured out.



Showing posts with label Star Wars. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Star Wars. Show all posts

Thursday, June 3, 2010

Who's this cool customer? It's Michael Jackson, it's Liberace, it's Darth Vader, it's Slash, it's Mr. Peanut...

About a month ago I was in Kensington Market.


It’s not usually this gay.

I went into this clothing store and low and behold they were selling a pair of spats.



You know, those things old timey gentleman wore over their shoes about 100 years ago.



You don’t see spats too often these days. I’m sure the editors over at  The Chap Magazine dawn them from time to time.



And it wouldn’t surprise me if Michael Jackson had a pair.

Yep, he did.

And maybe even somewhere there’s a Chippendale dancer kicking around who’s added them to his shirtless tuxedo outfit for that special lady in the audience with a foot fetish.



But all in all you don’t see spats being worn too often now.

Now this store wasn’t a vintage store. It was mostly hipster attire and local designers. What I’m trying to say is I believe these spats were newly made and that who ever crafted them did so with the intention of bringing them back for a modern crowd. I can maybe see it. The whole modern dandy look has really hoped on its bone shaker lately and taken off. What with the mustaches.



The hats.

I know, I know but it’s still a step up from the trucker hat.

And the general tweedy/waistcoat/boating blazer/bicycley thing.


How many of you instinctively made a fist when you saw this picture?

Are spats the next step? Am I going to be forced to observe some dickhead coming out of Rotate This wearing these over a pair of Converse? It’s highly probable. And what’s next? What other fashion accessories will these hiptorian Burk & Hares pilfer from poor Bertie Wooster’s coffin? Lets see…

How about the cape the cape?


After seeing Phantom of the Opera back in 1986 my mother was convinced that the cape would become a big fashion accessory again for men. She talked about how men would have one type of cape for work and a flashier one for going out on the town.

Sensible knitted day cape.

More eye catching evening cape

Sadly my mother’s dream of a cape filled late 80s metropolis never came to be. But there’s still time. The cape could rise and flutter again. Adidas has thrown their tri-stripped hat into the modern cape ring with their Star Wars inspired Darth Vader track jacket complete with cape.

Look, it even rolls up into a light saber! How can something be so cool yet so lame?

You know what goes good with a cape don’t you?


That’s right, a top hat. Sadly (actually thankfully) there aren’t too many of these around anymore either. About the only people still wearing them are hard core Goths.

If I were him I’d put a little card in the hat band that said Goth instead of Press

And Slash


Even today’s magicians seem to be shying away from the old magic top hat. Instead they're going for that hip urban look.



Although Chris Angel’s look is so rock star ridiculous that he might come full circle and start wearing a top hat in honor of Slash.


So why is Slash still wearing that thing? Maybe he knows something we don’t. Maybe he knows that the top hat is well overdue for a come back. All those false-bottomed magician top hats are poised to be scooped up by the youth of today.


Hey kids. Keep your keys in me instead of attaching them to your belts because they won’t fit in the pockets of your skinny jeans. Why not add a little pocket to me for your iPhone. You could cut a hole in my felt and add a speaker so you could blast the latest M.I.A. track. The extra weight will keep me on your head while you’re long boarding to the bodega. Whoopy!


It made me cool. Don’t believe me? Ask the Jackson 5 you turkies.



A top hat might make you look cool (no it won’t) but how would you like to LOOK cool. Only one way to do that, bring back the monocle.


Now you might say, What was the point of the monocle? Surely even the lowliest, calf brained proletarian could envision the superiority of the more practical spectacles?! (I’ll assume that the punacular yousage of envision was not intended by you good sirs.) The monocle was not about practicality or superiority. It was about fashion. And when has fashion ever made any sense?



I for one champion the return of the monocle. I’d certainly opt for one over say a pair of reading glasses or one of those Owl magnifying cards.

I wonder if I could get a light up monocle?

Why look like an old coffin dodger from Florida when you could look like Mr. Peanut?


Look, not only was he was wearing skinny jeans before anyone, he’s also got spats, a top hat, a monocle, white gloves and a vanity cane. So go fuck yourself Karl Lagerfeld!

As for me, I think I’ll stick with the tried and tested attire of the true English gentleman. Allan Partridge’s Sport Casual.



P.S. If you thought my mother’s Phantom of the Opera cape idea was crazy, you should have heard her after she saw CATS. I remember her talking about how great it would be if everyone had fur like a cat. And how not only would there be different races but there’d also be different fur types too like calicos and tabbies and how people would cut and style their fur all different ways. (You know the gino cat people would cut their fur to make them selves look huge guy!)


Jheeps file photo: Rum Tum Tugger

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Garage Sale! 69 Creepshow Ave. Cordless Drill, Weights, Samantha Fox Poster, Scud Mags, Used Coffin and much, much more!

Hot enough for ya?


It’s like 30 degrees Celsius outside! And you know what all this hot weather means? Summer time and garage sale season kicking into gear!



Now I don’t hit the garage sales the way I used to. That’s because for one, I live in the city. Most of the garage sales here are less garage sale and more sweaty crackhead shaking beside a blanket containing a selection of unpawnable/ broken items and DVDs that used to belong to my neighbors.

The cordless drill? Oh yea it works just fine. But you see it can’t be crushed up and injected or smoked so I really have no use for it. Five dollars!!

And secondly, thanks to E-bay and Craigslist garage sales are going the way of  Vallue Village. You just can’t find all the great things you used to.

Things like:

Those gold plastic weights.


The only thing these weights are good for now is weighing down the body of someone you killed or killing your lawn a month after you put them on your curb with a sign saying free. But there was a time when the suburban failed Adonis thought he could actually get money for them. They were often coupled with the chest expander.

Bonus if it was a really hairy guy selling it and there were hairs in the springs

And grip strengtheners.


Bonus if they were the gold executive model that wannabe 80s power suits kept on their desk for intimidation.

Archery sets.


When I was a kid every other garage sale had one of these up for grabs. I got a great one with a huge hunting bow, a quiver full of arrows and a homemade target on wheels for something like $15. I drew pictures of people I didn’t like and taped them to the front of the target. This was a big step up from throwing darts at the nipples of the topless Samantha Fox poster I won at the Appleby Mall fair.

f Samantha Fox could sing half as good as she could grow tits, she’d be top of the charts. – Some old copy of Viz Magazine.

Old Playboy & Penthouse magazines

Look at the article topics. Was anyone really that dedicated to being a scum bag?

It always amazed me how many of these fat truck drivers and bearded bikers were selling their old scud magazines at their garage sales. These men had no shame.

Ohhh, yep. Had a lot of good times masturbating to those… a LOT of gooood times. Hate to see ‘em go. 75 cents each or 3 for $2. 50 cents for the ones missing centerfolds.

Power Wheels


Look at the little girl acting just like her dumb bitch trophy wife mom. Kids, they’re like little people.

I used to see these at garage sales all the time. Rich parents would buy them for their kids not realizing that the rechargeable battery only had like 20 minutes of juice. I don’t know how many times I saw some frazzled dad dragging a Power Wheels back from the park with his shrieking kid under one arm. I was never allowed to get one at the garage sales because my dad had also seen those dads and because the dumb rich parents always wanted too much for it.

10 Cents?! I paid over $800 for that piece of shit!!!

Partially painted D&D miniatures.


Usually being sold by a guy like this.


Who had maybe grown up and found better things to do wit his weekend.


I remember purchasing a few to accentuate my growing army man collection. If the 101st thought the battle of the bulge was tough, wait till they find out Hitler has acquired two Orcs and a giant spider!

Pantyhose dolls.


I’m not really sure what the deal was with these things but there were lots of them at garage sales. Maybe the old women in my neighborhood couldn’t bear to part with their used pantyhose after having to ration them so much during World War II. (Did you know that women used to rub gravy on their legs to make it look like they were wearing nylons back then?) Who knows for sure? I bought a pantyhose doll at a garage sale and it was a little old man with a long grey beard and when you lifted the beard it had a dick and balls under it! I can’t believe those never caught on. Another pantyhose based item you got a lot of was jars full of little asses called Pickled Bums.


Something that I’m sure exists for real at the  Chinese Wal-Mart.

Toys that would be worth a lot now if someone didn’t fuck them all up.

You know what I’m talking about. You pull up to the garage sale in the back of your parents car and you see that AT- AT Walker on the table but when you run out of the car to buy it, it’s all messed up, missing all the parts and full of dirt.


Or the Smash-Up Derby cars that some kid’s anal-retentive mom pain stakingly glued all the pieces together so they don’t smash up any more.

The kid across the street from me’s mom actually did this

Don't forget the Cabbage Patch Doll Naked and covered in pen.


My Cabbage Patch doll was called Ralph Damien until I sent in the name change papers and had it legally changed to Thrash Damien. I always thought that Xavier Roberts signature on the doll’s ass would make a good tattoo for some 80s obsessed girl to get (or a girl that looked like a Cabbage Patch Kid).


And low and behold someone has gone and done it.


Good for you. Good luck explaining that to your grandchildren.

Good for you. Good luck explaining that to your grandchildren.


Well you see kids… there were these dolls… and 15 years later Granny got really drunk and…

you know what, never mind. Why would Granny be showing the kids her ass in the first place?

And finally the box of miscellaneous G.I. Joe parts (For those faint of heart avert your eyes).





Yes those flimsy cardboard mass graves that contained the corpses of so many fallen Joes. Twisted and tortured by some sadistic child until their legs wobbled and their rubber torso bands snapped. The final eulogy engraved in magic marker on their tombstone:

Whole Box $1.

I morn them and curse their tormentors but not without my own feelings of guilt. For the last time I saw my Duke Howzer figure he was sailing over Appleby creek attached to 4 bottle rockets. His body will never be found.

Yo…..


Joe.

Yeah garage sales may not be what they used to be but what is these days? I still get excited on a Saturday morning when I see that sign.


And you can still manage to find something good from time to time.


So come on all you human vultures. Strap your fanny packs on and get hunting.

P.S. A special mention has to go to some of the people that make garage sales great. They are as follows.

The woman who says, Oh you just take it for free, it’s yours. when she sees a kid’s meager handful of change.

The man who says, If you want him, make me an offer. when his dog greets people at his garage sale. He will say this 76 times in one morning.

The kid who snatches toys out of peoples’ hands and screams That's not for sale! then runs into his room with it. He will do this 26 times in one morning.

The crazy couple that show up to an 8am garage sale at 6 am.

The even crazier couple that rope off their garage sale so that no one can visit it until their start time of 9am