You’d be hard-pressed to find a classier guy than Derek Blasberg. He’s smart, funny, handsome, a snappy dresser and a great host (if his mingling skills at the party recently thrown for him at The Bay’s luxury shopping mecca The Room are any indication). And with the recent release of his new book entitled—fittingly—Classy: Exceptional Advice for the Extremely Modern Lady, he is the authority on good behaviour.
Enter Ricky, the authority on embarrassing behaviour: The day got off to a shaky start. At around noon I decided to smear a layer of self tanner onto my face, just like they to in Hollywood! It should be known that my bathroom is fully stocked with every kind of beauty product you could ever hope for: eye creams, hair tonics, bronzers, soaps, lotions. You name it, I’ve got it. Except recently purchased self tanner! Instead running to Shoppers Drug Mart to buy some L’Oreal Sublime Bronze (my go to) I rummaged through my stuff and found a tester of Estée Lauder Bronze Goddess Golden Perfection Selt-Tanning Lotion for Face. This is actually one of the best self-tanning products on the market; however, when I squeezed it into my hands the consistency was runny and it smelled a little chemically. Did I turn back, wash my hands and forget about it? No. I continued to slather it on. And wait to see what happened.
Luckily, it turned out ok. I really should go buy some of that stuff. If it worked after sitting on my shelf for a year, imagine what a fresh bottle could do!
So, my face turned out relatively bronzed and ready to go. Then the big dilemma arose: What to wear (c'mon Torontonians hardly ever get a chance to dress up), ! I chose one of my favorite combos: bright shirt, bow tie, dark jeans and a blazer. Simple, classy and very much ME. As I tied my bow tie, I looked at myself in the mirror and thought, “Classy, very classy indeed.” My pride quickly faded, though, as I boarded a streetcar and chugged along to The Bay while warding off stares of dismay from my local Leslievillians. Apparently nobody around here has ever seen a man wear patent leather shoes.
Fast forward an hour or so to the actual party. For those of you who haven’t been to The Room at The Bay, you really are missing something spectacular. It’s truly one of the best shopping experiences in Toronto, if not Canada... if not THE WORLD. Nicholas Mellamphy, The Room’s artistic director, has created a little piece of fashion heaven. Naturally, the party was a success with all of Toronto’s fashion heavy hitters—including Stacey Kimmel and Suzanne Rogers (and me)—present swirling around in luxurious couture. My two friends, J and G looked amazing in their towering heels and perfect hair and makeup. We saw several people we knew and began to mingle.
But I hadn’t eaten all day. And several glasses of white wine mysteriously found their way into my hands.
One glass of wine—I start to unwind. Two glasses—I start to get socially lubricated. Three glasses—I start to think I’m hilARious. I’m pretty sure I was well into my third glass by the time I met Derek. Needless to say I attempted several jokes to varying degrees of success, all the while not trying to spill my wine onto Mr. Blasberg’s nice suit. I told him that I needed a cute name, even cuter than Ricky. He suggested substituting an “i” for the “y.”
My claws are grasping at this book like I'm scared it will be snatched away by the swag thief
After meeting the lovely Byrdie Bell and Lyle Maltz, my friends and I decided to go home. But before we did, we made sure we said goodbye to our host. “Derek, we’re leaving," I said, "but before we go, I want your final verdict. Classy or trashy?”
“Ricky,” he replied (remembering names at parties is essential to being classy). He pointed at J and G. “Classy.” Then he pointed at me.
I interjected, “Trashy, right?”
Derek nodded yes. I knew it! Thankfully I now have his perfect little robin’s egg blue manual to educate me on how to go from this:
To this:
