‘You’re not having “Island Hopping” again,’ he told the spilikin-shaped blonde he’d brought in (disclaimer: nail polish shade names have actually been changed here). ‘And “Flowerista” is too plummy, however “Playdate” could be nice along with your Mason jumpsuit tonight.’
Now this isn’t the Gay Finest Friend; this is the boyfriend. I know because I have actually come across variants of Mr Darque Tan out here over the years: men that are so invested in their WAG’s physical appearance they may as well have actually bought shares in it. Which, socially speaking, they have.
And for that reason they need their consorts to be fully made-up, waxed, plucked, fillered and mani-pedi’d prior to they hit their his ’n’ hers 8am Absolution class at Crunch. Because the brighter and shinier the wife or girlfriend, the easier they are to use as a reflective surface in which to admire yourself.
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