Home Nightlife Dressed to the hilt.

Dressed to the hilt.


d2k09_stevenvalentineAt last the main event began, presaged by the drum machines and wailing bag bags. We were cordially introduced to the judges, more society types, the type who as I said write about film stars and the like but who secretly harbor being one, lots of photo bulbs suddenly going off before the visage of comedian Mike Myers hit the runway at full speed in deadpan model mock attitude. Needless to say he tore the whole place apart, and it’s true even I could see James Bond throwing back his head in tears.

From there we were introduced to a bevy of talent, thighs, bare chests, yellow knee high rubber boots, plaid shirts, six pack stomachs (good to know someone follows their diet), manes and manes of hair, crystal blue eyes, chiseled cheek bones, and all the other requisite accoutrements one is obliged to possess before one is allowed to walk the runway. The names I had heard before, sadly I am not much of a television man or a page 6 reader but I do recall overhearing the following names; Andie Macdowell and her daughters, Kellie Pickler, Ed Westwick, Lauren Temany, Marcus Schenkenberg (the supermodel, …I know, aren’t we all?), Damien Woody the 350 pound Jets football player and a gangly of acrobatics and dandies.

Who won the best dressed award I could hardly tell, as you can see they were all dressed to the hilt, as for the girl in the Ferrari red top she was no longer so gun ho on James Bond but like others before her by now quite eagerly straddling the plush sofa, single malt in tow. As I have reiterated earlier, such are the affairs of society…


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