This is written from a remote, very secluded and extremely secretive location. It has to be. It appears that the fashionistas of Auckland have returned from their summer sojourn in Bali, Thailand or whatever the destination de jour is these days and have read and taken umbrage at my comments regarding the superficiality of participating in Fashion in the Field. They have told me in no uncertain terms that they are not superficial, just sooper!!! The jihad has begun. What started as light-hearted comments about my parentage has escalated to outright physical violence. I have been attacked! And there seems to be method to this violence. First I am blinded the light-emitting garish ties of the men (often matching their suits for even more effect) and, in this vulnerable state, I am then targeted by those so-called hats of the women that look less like hats and more like multi-coloured porcupines perching uncertainly atop a cascading waterfall of bleach. Fortunately I have a respite as most of the attackers have taken time off to appear before the cameras at the Heineken Men’s Open. But I fear they will be back, and I shall remain in hiding until such time as I can reach Hamilton, the last true bastion against the advent of the fashionista, and the ancestral home of the walk-short and the safari suit. Hamilton: my haven, my home.
No comments:
Post a Comment