the story of the canadian tuxedo
TRANSCRIPT
All tuxedos are not created equal
i don’t claim to have any fashion sense
when i was younger, i was a tomboy
my wardrobe consisted of patterned stirrup pants and backwards baseball caps
i idolized Becky ‘the ice box’ o’shea
and had a big crush on devon sawa. come on, who didn’t?
but i’ve come a long way since those days
(and apparently so has devon)
or so i thought
apparently this weekend, i broke a fashion faux pas
so widely known that it has its own name
the canadian tuxedo
ok yes, wore a canadian tuxedo
but, let me explain!
(Jemaine and Bret know what’s up)
i just spent a year living in nyc
where anything you can pull off, goes
unfortunately that is not the case in richmond, virginia
where west end preppsters outnumber vcu hipsters
i donned my denim shirt and jeans
like it was no big thing
within seconds of my friends viewing my outfit
it became a big thing
so of course, i took up defensive
becoming a canadian tux advocate
yes, Ryan, yes i do.
i pridefully displayed my outfit everywhere we went
my friends pretended they hated it
but i knew the truth
they wished they could throw their
lilly and lacoste into the wind
and jump on the denim on denim bandwagon
i love me in my canadian tuxedo