So, I like, fo reals had a ridic rad assignment all lined up for Super Snoop Sunday, which was to infiltrate the neo-golf subculture couched within some Aussie dude’s Superbowl party in the West Village and report back to my peeps at AMR. My homegirl Ellie’s ex/not-ex boyf who she like just kicked out of her pad is now crashing with the Aussie-partydude, so it seemed all drama and whatevs, but eff it. There’s gonna be golfers there??? Weird. The only golfers I know are like my dad and my gramps, so I was all set to find out what was the color a la mode for polo shirts. Collars popped up? Have golf shoes become hip like bowling shoes, informing street shoes, informing golf shoes, informing Fashion Week? Is it still all about plaid and argyle, or are they mixin it up with metallic leggings or neon harem pants? Has Tiger Woods made golfing sexy? Are these golfers gonna be total scrotties? Back when I was a teenager, my grandpa was all about trying to get me to pimp myself out to pro golfers. We’d be watching a game on the tube, and he’d point out some sideline slutz all decked out in Ralph Lauren visors and shorts and biz, and he’d say, “You know, you should really just go hang out at these tournaments like those gals… pick up a nice young pro. There’s big money in golf!” So like, I know the whole Tiger Woods shiz is totes played out (SCOOPED!!!), but I’m just gonna throw in my op to the ed, and say that it probably wasn’t Tiger’s libido that got all caaarrraaaaaazzzzy OOC. He was just trying to make all those ladies’ grandpas happy!
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8 February 2010
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