Friends, Clothes, and A Few Yarns

So I'm thinking about taking one of my friends and, for the next several years, dressing them like crap.  I would do it, however, I don't want to dress like crap (easy target, folks).  Their social networking site of choice will feature them over a few years looking rundown and ragamuffin and such.  I will then submit this to "What Not to Wear" and they will be able to go on to the show and win several thousands of dollars for clothes.

Now, what we must surely remember is that the experience can not, nay, it must not be this smooth.  There are ever-increasing standards...strike that...ever-decreasing standards of fashion on these shows.  No longer can we idly sit by and witness a mere People-of-Walmart-style visual intrusion.  Nay.  I say, nay!

What I'm thinking is that I should go to the thrift store or rummage through dumpsters or hit up FreeCycle and look for the most ill-fitting clothes possible.  There would be conflicting patterns, multiple, layered plaids, and the like.  It would be very bizarre, to be sure.  And that bizzarrity would be (shhhhh) on purpose!  I would cultivate a lie using spendthrift fashion and that fashion would then make me rich!

We'd go on the show.  The two hosts (I'd only be lying if I said I knew their names when it would really be Wikipedia naming them for me) would introduce the before segment.  I'd be talking to them about how, for as long as I've know Friend A, he'd been a sloppy dresser.  Maybe a group of us had gathered as friends and scheduled some sort of intervention.  But it would always be chalked up to Friend A's "unique sense of style" or a certain (why do people always preface this with the word certain) je ne sais whatever.  The back story doesn't matter.  I might as well just start making stuff up now in preparation.  Maybe when Friend A was a kid, he believed in the Tooth Bunny or perhaps he was utterly and hopelessly convinced that the cruise control button was really used to eject passengers who misbehaved.

Then comes the shopping part.  And I've only seen the show a few times, so I'm just reaching here, but I think there would be the part where Friend A would try on all of these clothes that looked smashing on him (realize that I'm saying that as heteroly as I can), and he would poo-poo them (realize that I'm saying that as non-heteroly as I can).  The hosts would scoff at him and we'd all give these wink, wink, nudge, nudges and make fun of his obvious fashion deficit.

Cut to a commercial for some sort of pharmaceutical.

Is it just me, or is my Spam folder in my e-mail just a haven for all sorts of ways to increase sexual function?  Two and two.

Now we're in the home stretch of the clothing event.  This is where we finally convince Friend A to let the fashion experts guide him.  Of course, it's all been an act this entire time.  Friend A does not dress great in the terms of the fashion experts, but he is moderately civilized.  His socks match not only his pants and shoes, but each other.  That is the height of fashion.

They spend a lavish amount of money on his coiffure as well!  Perhaps they bring an old lover to the set to show her what she could have had if she'd only taken him on a shallow reality show!  As if Friend A would want someone so shallow!  He is a trend-setter!  He is stardust!  He has moxie!  Plaid moxie!  Two kinds of plaid moxie!  At the same time!  What a taste-maker he is now!  Even the simplest of sentences in this paragraph deserves an exclamation mark!

By now the hosts are just going gaga over their own awesomeness.  The awesometer can only go so far to the right before it swings back around, pendulum-style, to the other end of the, well, pendulum.  The hosts collapse into gibbering puddles of drool, and the end credits roll as the episode is entered into the annals as easily one of the Top Seventeen Episodes of "What Not to Wear."  Even I'm starting to buy into the hype.  And, hey, I'm the same size as Friend A so I get to wear all that expensive crap he got for being on the show. Didn't see that coming, did you, Friend A?

There would be a huge promotional package for the upcoming season.  My friend would be prominently featured on it.  Even I would make it into a few cut scenes in the commercials.  We'd be minor celebrities.

And that's when the show would get canceled.

Well, maybe there's a Hoarders spin-off to yet bamboozle myself into.