Tunesday : I'm Too Sexy

I'm Too Sexy

(Fairbrass, F / Fairbrass, R / Manzoli, R) Performed by Right Said Fred

I'm too sexy for my love too sexy for my love
Love's going to leave me

I'm too sexy for my shirt too sexy for my shirt
So sexy it hurts
And I'm too sexy for Milan too sexy for Milan
New York and Japan

And I'm too sexy for your party
Too sexy for your party
No way I'm disco dancing

I'm a model you know what I mean
And I do my little turn on the catwalk
Yeah on the catwalk on the catwalk yeah
I do my little turn on the catwalk

I'm too sexy for my car too sexy for my car
Too sexy by far
And I'm too sexy for my hat
Too sexy for my hat what do you think about that

I'm a model you know what I mean
And I do my little turn on the catwalk
Yeah on the catwalk on the catwalk yeah
I shake my little tush on the catwalk

I'm too sexy for my too sexy for my too sexy for my

'Cos I'm a model you know what I mean
And I do my little turn on the catwalk
Yeah on the catwalk on the catwalk yeah
I shake my little tush on the catwalk

I'm too sexy for my cat too sexy for my cat
Poor pussy poor pussy cat
I'm too sexy for my love too sexy for my love
Love's going to leave me

And I'm too sexy for this song

On last week's Tunesday, I was talking about the year that Dave and I spent planning our wedding (yawn), and this week I'm going to briefly describe the bachelorette party that was thrown for me during that time (yay!). And even though the year I'm talking about is 1990, and I'm Too Sexy didn't come out until 1992, its playful, unserious/sexy vibe and more-or-less right timeframe made it the only song that came to mind (and, really, I probably won't have another opportunity to add this fun tune to my discography).

As I said last week, Dave and I went to London the year before our wedding in order to book services and the church and reception hall, etc. And during our time there, Dave's Mom threw me a surprise shower -- which my own mother knew about and therefore attended with me -- and in addition to getting a bunch of dishtowels and spatulas, that shower gave me a chance to meet the women on Dave's side of the family; and while I am an awkward introvert type person, I appreciated the effort. It also made me wonder if I would be having any more showers. Would my own mother throw me one? (No.) Would my friends? (Kind of!)

My bachelorette party back in Edmonton was also kept from me as a surprise, and when I showed up for work at the bar one night, I was whisked away in a limousine with all of my work friends: Delight, Anika, Anne, Lise, this customer Charmaine (weird), and our manager, Joanne (also surprising). There was champagne in the limo, and we were all tipsy before we even got to the restaurant. I had never been to Sorrento's before, although I had certainly heard of their great Italian food, and I remember delicious scampi and more wine and a lot of loud talking, obnoxious laughter. It was here that I opened my presents, and while there were no more dishtowels or spatulas (these were the people who knew me, after all), there were also none of that sleazy lingerie or chocolate penises that I think Brides-to-be are given today (these were the people who knew me, after all. Charmaine gave me a silver champagne bucket, engraved, with my name spelled wrong. Weird.)

From the restaurant, we went to a Ladies Night at some strip club. We sat at our reserved table well back from the stage (I think I remember that they had decorated it with balloons and streamers), and I was given a tiara to identify me as the Bride-to-be. Charmaine ordered a glass of ice to put her loonies into -- the dollar coins were fairly new at this point, and she assured me that it would be hysterical to chill them off before dropping them in some guy's G-string -- and the atmosphere was hi-lar-ious. Guys -- single and in groups -- would come out on stage and do their little turns on the catwalk, but I didn't watch hardly any of the show: all the fun was right at my table, with lewd jokes and screaming laughter and zero inhibitions. And I can't stress that enough: the guys taking their clothes off onstage might have been the reason for the atmosphere, but they weren't the focus of the evening at all. So at one point, as I'm talking and cackling with my friends, one of the performers left the stage and started walking through the audience (which I hadn't noticed because I hadn't been watching), and when he got to our table -- a really muscular guy in a G-string, dripping with a mixture of oil and sweat -- and he opened his arms to give me a hug (because that was supposed to be exciting for me?), I totally cringed and recoiled. I'm sure he was expecting a decent tip for offering me body contact, but being an awkward introvert type person, I felt dirtied and repulsed just looking at the guy and I waved him off (maybe Charmaine gave him a special tip, but I wasn't watching). So much for Krista gone wild.

By the time we left, Joanne was puking all over the side of the limo (she wasn't a drinker and we went through a lot of booze that night; I think she paid for a lot of it herself, happy to be included in a night out with her girls), and the party continued back to our bar, where Dave was waiting with an amused smirk to take me home when I was ready. And that was a fabulous bachelorette party: getting lewd and loud with my friends, only slightly spoiled by the intrusion of a nearly naked man.

'Cos I'm a model you know what I mean

And I do my little turn on the catwalk

Yeah on the catwalk on the catwalk yeah

I shake my little tush on the catwalk