Wendy decides to cast me in her next short (a move she will later regret). I’m supposed to play a wannabe hip hop thug. Ah dammit.

Needless to say there’s absolutely nothing in my wardrobe that says bling-bling; most of it says brown-brown. So Wendy contacts Jeff, a mutual friend of ours, who owns and designs a streetwear label (Staple). Jeff agrees to wardrobe me for the film.

In Jeff’s LES studio, he drapes me in thug threads under Wendy’s watchful gaze. Although the clothes are quality I look completely ridiculous. Everything is oversized and the bagginess makes me look about ten years old.

I strongly dislike the hip hop look, especially on me; I think I’d rather leave my house wearing liederhosen and a beanie with a propellor on top. Am also worried about being able to convincingly pull off thug accent (not likely). I’m doing this for Wendy.