It’s gettin’ hot in herrre

Where am I, the western Sahara? It certainly feels that way with this crazy heat wave we’re enduring. Vancouverites are in shock. People are piling into the closest Canadian Tire to score the biggest fans they can find. We’re in an inferno people. The tropics. I swear I saw a gecko in my shower this morning.

Granted it’s July, and despite popular opinion there are no igloos in this part of our vast country. Now that I think about it, I wouldn’t mind thronging myself up against a snowy structure right about now. Despite being a bit of a beach bunny - a tanorexic sun worshiper if you like - the humidity is a challenge. Besides the bronzer melting off my face, my hair has been quaffing into quite the retro-fro, reminiscent of Monica on Friends during the Maui episode. Good GAWD I'm a sexy beast. Sexy. Beast.

My only sanctum in all this swelter is the utterly ridiculous fashion trends my fellow citizens have been sporting to manage the rising mercery. This heat wave has equated to one, big hot mess for many, which is why I’ve prepared...

The Urban Cowgirl’s Summer Fashion Follies

1) Mesh tops on men. I don’t care if you live in the West End or not, these haven’t been acceptable since Wham released Wake Me Up. Shame on American Apparel for endorsing this look.

2) Socks with sandals. We all know it’s wrong so why do we do this? I use the term ‘we’ loosely as what I really mean is men with no fashion morals, and the tourist community-at-large. Senior citizens are exempt.

3) Men in v-necks. I’m sensing a trend here, but don’t worry ladies I’ll get to you next. V-necks are never a good idea on dudes. Ever. Don’t do that.

4) Visors. Remember when these were cool in the 90’s for a month or so? I believe they called it ‘bad ass country cluber chic’. I find visors rather agreeable on the golf course, but no where beyond the club house. We’re not teeing off at our neighborhood Starbucks, are we? I didn’t think so.

5) Blueblockers. I’d like to say senior citizens are exempt from this, but sadly they are not. These are fucking hideous. Surely there’s something more suitable that doesn’t make you look like an electrician.

6) OK ladies, here’s my beef – baring saggy boobs. Now, I’m the first to admit that sauntering about sans bra is a fabulous feeling. It’s the first thing I rip from my bod after a long day at the office. But must our bosom flap about in public? Wreck beach, yes. Hustling down Homer Street, no.

I’m signing off now to go stick my head in the freezer. So, my perspiring possums, let me leave you with a quote from one of my fave flicks, that sums up our weird, west coast weather.

"It's hot! Damn hot! Real hot! Hottest things is my shorts. I could cook things in it. A little crotch pot cooking." Well, tell me what it feels like. "Fool, it's hot! I told you again! Were you born on the sun? It's damn hot! It's so damn hot, I saw little guys, their orange robes burst into flames. It's that hot! Do you know what I'm talking about?" What do you think it's going to be like tonight? "It's gonna be hot and wet! That's nice if you're with a lady, but ain't no good if you're in the jungle!"