Johnny Weir. I die.

Unless you've been living under a rock of late,  you know that the Olympics just finished here in Canada.  GO CANADA!  Oh wait, sorry - to be honest, I couldn't give an eff.  Hate it or love it, that's me.

I digress...

I'm not much for sports and can only stomach those that don't consist of hockey, two man luge, snow of any sort, and involve dancing somehow.  By the powers of deduction, I am therefore left with ONE thing to watch during the winter olympics: ice skating.  Or, ice dancing.  Whatever you call it, I'll usually tune in to check out the costumes, choreography and athleticism.

I don't like to can't skate.  I know, I know.  I'm a sorry excuse for a Canadian.  I'd love to be able to do so, but I just can't.  It's impossible.  I've had pro hockey players try to teach me {yes, a good friend is married to an NHL player}, and even they are amazed at my sheer inability to glide.  I prefer to "step" or "stomp". 

Again, I digress...

Johnny Weir: the man is odd.  Sorry.  He's odd.  Gay?  Likely.  Does it matter?  Not really.  His sexual preference has no baring whatsoever on his style, or lack thereof.

See this as Exhibit A {image from the Globe and Mail}:

To me, this looks a little too Blades of Glory, no? 














His flamboyant tendancies aside {wanna know what I'm talking about?  Read this.}, he's a great skater.  But seriously dude, WHERE DID YOU LEARN TO DRESS?

Exhibit B: 
I love LV.  But srrrsly?

And what would be any great fashionistao without a little controversy?  See here, oh and here too.

Controversy or not.  You go Johnny Weir!


Hugs,

*Canadian Girl