Hi, Toronto.

How’s it going?

Toronto Fashion Week starts today. (Oh, last week? That was different.) I decided that this Fashion Week, I am going to be Rob Ford. No, I’m not going to do crack (this isn’t Vice), and I possibly won’t be drunk (I mean, likely, but thankfully I have this drinking game), but I will take photos with anyone who asks. Being a bitttchhhhhhhhhh is kind of like two seasons ago, to be honest.

I don’t have a grasp on patois (yet), but I do have a new found grasp on kindness. I am ready to drop a fucking hey-how’s-it-going bomb on Toronto Fashion Week.* Even if I look like complete garbage, I’m just gonna roll like I’ve got 100 Valentines in my pocket, and a fist full of love hearts ready to be deployed.

No New Friends? Not this week, Drake. Not. This. Week. Toronto Fashion Week has never seen someone so happy. (I don’t have drugs, so don’t ask. I know it sounds like I’ve taken something.)

*There will still be truth bombs, duh. I haven’t been lobotomized, guys.

Come and say “yo, wassup?” to me and She Does the City photographer extraordinaire Becca Lemire. You may or may not be glad you did, friends…?