How dare this premiere while I was away? Picture me, phone in hand, running toward the beach on some Caribbean island, wondering if I can swim from there to Brooklyn.

John Tavares, Prince of Khakis, may be second in perfection only to Cabbie, who seems to have a live feed of my inner monologue running in his comedy lair. He always knows exactly what everyone will find funny – the players, the fans, my inner teenybopper.

Hipsters are so hip they’re really not very hip at all anymore. Even beards are so ubiquitous they are becoming passe. While trends may come and go, one thing never changes: John Tavares.

First of all, he is wearing khakis. Witness him in his natural habitat:

Secondly, his teeth are PERFECT. Too perfect, and at a little fake, since we did see him pull a few out on TV that time. I haven’t been so dazzled since Hilary Duff got veneers.

In the interview, John claims he’s a good wingman. I bet this is true. He is profoundly handsome, the better for distract any girl’s friend(s), but – let’s be honest – not everyone wants to talk about compound interest with a guy who offers to buy them a white wine spritzer. (I do, though. I really do.)

But if you’re into middle school science teachers (::raises hand::), please note and praise that John is at least not wearing white socks. A lot of work goes into these outfits, people. And then there are his loafers.

Loafers. Dear Lord.

 

A true gentleman, John is game for every joke fired at his gosh-darnedness. From the NHL Awards to this… if John were faking the nice guy act, he’d be an Oscar-winner. And now, the glasses:

Objection: We love glasses. [Exhibit A – Foxy Friday: Glasses] Cabbie gets a demerit for choosing terrible glasses that most hipsters wouldn’t even wear. Maybe he was worried John would look even more scholarly and Halloween sales of schoolgirl costumes in Canada would skyrocket. I happen to think a nice pair of rectangle frames would look great while John reads a textbook on sedimentary strata of the Cretaceous period.

Finally, because he had to, the man bun. Was this wig part of a hipster costume? It better resembles a samurai wig… or me every day right now on Sunday.

Thank God we can be sure John will never become a hipster. He may panic when he realizes not a single Brooklyn retailer has sold khakis since ’99, or, if the Isles play well, maybe khakis will become hip. Maybe polo shirts and the word “gosh” will pervade an ironic subculture. Either way, no one will pull it off as perfectly as John.

PS: John is sick, and missed both games this weekend. I imagine him weakly ripping up his spreadsheet on which calculated the usefulness of a flu shot. Get well soon! Try the wheatgrass-kale-cardamom latte with echinacea boost, it’s ayurvedic.

Tags: john tavares, New York Islanders