I cannot hold those bulbous Canada Goose down parkas in anything other then contempt. Everyone who wears one has that look of self-satisfaction, that aggrandized sense of warmth, that holier-than-thou trickle of sweat down their sides as they boil while walking down Bloor Street West and take up the amount of space 2.5 people wearing normal winter coats would fill. The coats themselves are so puffy that people wearing them look like they have Down's Syndrome. Haha. Down Coat. Down's Syndrome. I will say they have Down Syndrome, so as to not insult anyone with Down's Syndrome by associating them with those fucking parkas.
Overconfident, not-quite-fashionable people eat these coats up. And by "eat" I mean wear. People like George Strombolopolus or however you spell his octosyllabic last name. I can only assume that "Strombo" dons a black Canada Goose down parka, complete with fur-trim hood, as he takes the arctic stroll from the studio of his critically-acclaimed, award-winning, edgy program through the underground parking lot of the CBC to his h2 hummer. The other necessary elements are all in place: he deals with the issues, he asks the tough questions, he wears a studded belt, he has not one but TWO pierced ears (and a pierced nose...and, I would assume, at least one pierced nipple), he has many tight fitting graphic t-shirts, he uses enough gel in his hair to kill a small family of possums, he speaks in a gruff, everyman voice and doesn't properly emphasize when one sentence ends and the next begins, he has sponsorship from Budweiser or some other bro-beer brand (say that five times fast...if Strombo did so it would come out as "Brebererbadnadjejei"), and damnit, he is just too real. Therefore, Strombo wears a Canada Goose down parka.
