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It was only when I started going back through all the shows from the past few months that I realised just how long it’s been since the last fashion post. And yes, I do go back through everything for these posts. Ded-i-ca-tion! Think about it…there’s been a major draft, some amazing PPVs, some of the roster were deported, and then they were allowed back in the country again. Some of the roster married each other, some big names have parted ways with the WWE (some voluntary, some by force), new stars have been made, new champions have been crowned (kind of), the first series of NXT finished, a new one began and the Nexus became part of the wrestling furniture. It would be impossible to run through every clothing related happening since Wrestlemania, but I’ll try to pick out some of the most memorable. You might need to go and get some tea and biscuits before you get stuck into this one. ‘Tis a long’un.

You better take a good look at that banner above the first paragraph, folks. Not only because we’re redesigning the site at the moment, but also because since I last did a fashion post, our favourite oiled fashion disaster has retired. Dave Batista, I miss you and your double-deni. Although, when I saw Big Dave covering up in a high-necked top and a cat-burglar hat a few weeks before he departed, I figured his time left with us was short.

The beginning of the end.

So, there’ll be no more near-naked Batista, sitting in the middle of the ring, sulking because things didn’t go his way. Let’s take a moment to remember…..

So what now for Dave? Rumour has it that he’s opened up an exclusive cocktail bar for select members of the community in Manhattan. I wish him all the very best.

Thanks, Adam.

As one veteran says goodbye, a new breed of superstars comes to the fore. Such is the circle of life. The Nexus may not have been around for long, but they feel like part of the family already. Look at them there in their cheapo t-shirts:

Their transformation from FCW wannabes to PPV hijackers was quite astonishing. Let’s take Justin Gabriel, for example. He was so cute before he turned bad. There he was with his dimply smile, ironed black hair and Matt Hardy inspired shirts.

Aww. Bless.

A couple of months, an evil streak later and……

Please note, as a face he wore white trunks and as a heel they’re black. Apparently, encasing your junk in white PVC means you’re angelic and wrapping it in black plastic makes you eeevil. Also the highlights and asymmetrical haircut. They’re eeevil too. Wade Barrett has only improved since winning NXT. He’s ditched the oversized winter coats and looks ever the illustrious leader:

It’s no wonder he beat David Otunga to the NXT trophy. Especially when Otunga decided to cover his head in stick-on plastic diamantes for the final show:

Dude! NO!

Otunga’s look hasn’t changed much since his rookie-hood, but Darren Young has had a major make-over. Personally, I’m not sure which is worse, so I’ll leave you to decide:

As for Heath Slater, he looked like a cock before he was on NXT, during and after.

Mmm. Ginger beard and girlie shades. Yum.

Our next batch of rookies don’t seem to display such extreme fashion guises. In fact, they’re fairly normal looking. Well, normal for wrestlers anyway. I mean, check out how miserable Kaval looks at having to wear his mentors’ home-made merchandise:

But don’t let grumpy-chops fool you. In his spare time, the man with the deepest voice I ever did hear likes to do a spot of catalogue modelling;

Look at all that smizing! Tyra would be so proud.

I’m sure his mentors would wholeheartedly approve. While we’re on the topic of LayCool, let’s have some REAL TALK.

Despite the fact that they appear dressed in increasingly elaborate self-branded outfits every week, not a single piece has appeared on WWEShop.com. Although, there is a youth Divas t-shirt available, so at least little girls have something to wear to cheer on the Divas now.

If WWE want to release some LayCool Flawless merchandise, I will most definitely buy it. Ms. McCool is now Mrs. Calaway, courtesy of her marriage to a certain Dead Man. And speaking of the Undertaker, you know you’re a wrestling fan when you watch the Eurovision Song Contest and assign wrestlers to the countries competing, based on their performance outfits. Clearly Taker’s a big hit in Eastern Europe.

Sing your hearts out, Ukraine and Albania!

Let’s move on. I just admitted to watching the Eurovision Song Contest. Quick! We need a more pleasant subject. Ah yes. CM Punk. Punk has gone through quite the transformation over the past few months. His once flowing locks were shorn in the name of defending the Straight Edge Society and I spent several weeks mourning the loss of his face.

Thankfully, just a couple of weeks ago the Big Show de-masked Mr. Punk and his face (plus shaven head) were visible again. Hooray!

It was rough, but we made it through and came out the other side stronger.

Going back to the ladies, my Maryse envy has been hitting new heights lately. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to be her or anything, but let’s be honest, the girl fills her clothes rather beautifully. I’m not sure a halter-neck string bikini and a cropped lace top are quite suitable clothing for jiu-jitsu training. Eve has the edge in the practical clothing stakes.

But Maryse’s in-ring attire is always ace and this dress almost made me give up on life. I can’t compete with that.

But you never know, maybe I’ll go through some sort of image evolution one day and end up looking that glamorous. Bahahahaha! I couldn’t even keep a straight face typing that. Someone who did go through an image evolution though was Shad Gaspard. He ditched JTG and his urban streetwear to forge a solo career. All was looking trendy:

Until…….

Yawch! Matt Striker should have a word in his ear. That's not right.

You know, when Dave disappeared I worried that I’d have nobody to follow regarding hit-n-miss fashions. But I had not anticipated the wonder that is the cougar herself, Vickie Guerrero.

She started off in her blouse and ‘mum-jeans’, but her efforts to impress and keep up with the youthful Dolph Ziggler have been nothing if not brave. Check ‘em out:

Eeeeek! Wait. That last one was a bit dodgy. Tight dresses with zips right up the middle scream ‘street-walker’. Not even Kelly Kelly can pull that one off.

OK. Maybe Kelly.

But it’s OK, kids. In recent weeks Mrs. G’s cracked open the summer wardrobe and thrown on some rather flattering sundresses.

So all’s well that ends well. Even if she doesn’t look very happy about it. I love you, Vickie.

Sunshine seems to either bring out the best in our sense of dress or the worst. Just think of all those outfits you wear on your summer holiday that you wouldn’t dream of wearing back home. Drew McIntyre, I’m talking to you:

But I'll forgive you because you were just back from your honeymoon with Tiffany and you've had a rough time of things lately.

Sheamus could teach Drew a few things about dressing for an occasion. While stranded in Belfast as a result of the Icelandic volcanic ash, Sheamus strutted around in a mighty fine ensemble of muted colours and handpicked items. Ok, so the tie probably should be on top of the shirt, but still, he looks good, oui?

I should move on before that underlying Sheamus crush rears its ugly head. I fear that I’m a change of hair-do away from swooning for Sheamus. As Sidekick Andrew points out every time I mention it “It’s the voice, isn’t it?” Errrr, yah! Show me a girl who doesn’t love a boy with an Irish accent and I’ll show thee a liar! And while we’re on the subject of crushes I’d rather not admit to:

Yep! Zack Ryder. While he’s in his ring gear… nothing. Not even a tingle. But in his civilian clothing (as above)…. WOO WOO WOO! Although, my real reason for mentioning he of the glorious tan is to report that he’s FINALLY dropped the half-tighs/half trunks hybrid and gone for more standard trunks:

While the Long Island Iced-Z reveals a favourable increase in flesh, Cody Rhodes seems to be becoming even more naked, and it turns my stomach slightly. I mean, look….

eww

The lack of knee-pads doesn’t help and when he opts for his light-coloured boots, the boy looks practically naked. Enough. Get him some tights and a vest.

So there you have it. That’s your latest instalment of WWE clothing triumphs and disasters. I’ve learnt a few things from this trip down memory lane. I’ve learnt that I miss Beth Phoenix, Triple H and Mickie James a lot more than I thought I did, and I’ve discovered a few universal truths that will never change. I shall impart this wisdom forthwith. Never forget these important wrestling fashion rules:

  • Mark Henry in speedos is like a car-crash. You don’t want to look, but you just can’t stop yourself. You probably should look away though:
  • Jerry Lawler will always wear horrendous t-shirts:
  • Use somebody’s clothing as a weapon against them and you will be fired:

wrestlemania 26: dressy-dressy

So we’ve come full circle. One of the very first posts on this website was a review of Wrestlemania 25, during which I ate wrestling themed cupcakes and faffed about while my cats demanded attention during the Money in the Bank match. This year wasn’t much different. So how does one boil four hours of wrestling down to a blog post long enough to cover everything but not so long that people need a slap round the face to wake up half way through? Ummm, you don’t.

If you follow my Twitter account you may have noticed me grumbling about not feeling very well for a few weeks. I’ve needed a spot of R&R the past few days to try and clear a long-running ear condition which is blighting me and get healthy again. I left Sidekick Andrew in charge for a few days and he found it such a stressful job he announced on Thursday that he needed a holiday to recover. It’s tough at the top, eh? But I’m a kind boss so I let him see the light of day for the Easter weekend. Boss-Lady Ray’s back in charge. Not 100% healthy, but healthy enough to have a look back at that miniscule event called Wrestlemania 26. Oh and because everyone knows what happened, this Wrestlemania recap will take the form of………

I would like to point out that this is in no way the result of my Wrestlemania predictions being the most inaccurate they have ever been. Here’s a tip: Never predict wrestling with your heart and never listen to what baked goods tell you. Cakes are filthy liars!

Before we get to the actual wrestlers, first a shout-out to our commentary team. Jerry Lawler, Michael Cole and lovely Matt Striker all looked especially smart in their tuxedos. Striker was so enamoured with his own image that even when important discussion was taking place, he still flashed a smile to the camera.

Dreamy!

I’ll mark Michael Cole down for wearing one of those hideous cowboy ties. It’s not a tie, Michael Cole, it’s string.

ShowMiz vs R-Truth and John Morrison was up first, but they had no major fashion offerings. When you’re the first match on, the least compelling and the part of the show nobody will remember by the end, it’s best to just know your place and blend into the background. ShowMiz retained their titles, which is one of the few predictions I actually got right.

From here we moved on to the Triple Threat between Randy Orton, Cody Rhodes and Ted DiBiase. Ted came out first and there was nothing wrong with the trunks themselves. The pose was a little camp, but we’ll let it slide.

Ted’s voguing, however,  was nothing compared to what came next:

REALLY!

No, he’s not naked. He’s just wearing some very tight terracotta granny knickers. And check out those white boots! Get this boy a job in the chorus of Mamma Mia! After that I needed something to cleanse my eyes of this image. Send someone else out to avert my gaze from the morbid car-crash that is Cody’s crotch.

This finely dressed gentleman pinned Teddy to take the win. This begins the destruction of my predictions and the beginning of the end of Legacy.

Now to the Money in the Bank ladder match where ten, yes ten, guys made their way to the ring to grab at that very special briefcase. Some said there were too many competitors to give everyone  fair crack. There were. But if you look at it from a fashion point of view, there were more opportunities to point and laugh at the ten competitors’ new outfits.

Shelton Benjamin just wore some of his old, golden trunks and a pair of sport socks:

MVP, Evan Bourne and Matt Hardy all shilled their t-shirts. Christian wore his t-shirt too but, being such a pro, he had spent the morning glue-gunning frosted beads to himself.

Bedazzling.

Maybe MVP would like to consider that for next year. The other guys made more of an effort though. Jack Swagger went ultra patriotic:

Drew McIntyre too went his usual patriotic route, but this time he came out in white pants. It was almost enough to force me to bring Crotch Watch back:

Dolph Ziggler ditched the snow leopard for an all-black ensemble:

So dark.

And Kofi Kingston bounced out resembling….. resembling……ummmm…..

Ah, got it:

Seriously Kofi. That’s just wrong.

Kane may possibly have been wearing new tights but as I can’t remember the last time I paid attention to Kane’s tights, so who’s to know?

Shockingly, none of the people I thought might win actually unhooked the briefcase from the suspension rope above the ring. In fact, I thought the winner’s chances were so tiny, I didn’t even make him a cupcake to ponder whether he might win or not. Who was it? JACK SWAGGER! YEAH! I KNOW!

Next we had Sheamus vs Triple H. In clothing terms, there was very little fabric to mull over. At least the outcome gave my ailing predictions a nice boost. NEVER bet against HHH.

From there we went to the match I was looking forward to most – CM Punk vs Rey Mysterio. I was disappointed in the result. Rey won and the match was way too short, but what we got was fantastic. It just ended a little too swiftly. Clothing-wise though, it was a mixture of greatness and WTF?

CM Punk became a soldier for Straight Edge in his G.I. Punk trunks…..

You need to have been a child of the 80s to get that one.

….while his miserable sidekicks came out in outfits resembling usual attire for Neo-Nazis. Ah yes. There’s nothing like a spot of ethnic cleansing to get a party jumping. If they spot you sneaking a bottle of Stella, you’re eliminated.

Rey Mysterio, meanwhile, decided to attach a large ponytail to the back of his mask. Apparently this was reminiscent of the Avatar movie. Being the only person in the Western world not to have seen Avatar, I didn’t make the connection. It actually looked worse than when I used to wear a fake ponytail as a blonde.

Jericho vs Edge was one of the more solid matches of the night, but Jericho winning really threw a spanner into my prediction works. Come the following Friday, it all made sense, but at the time I was losing the will to ever predict a pre-determined sporting event using cake again! There wasn’t much to shout about clothing wise, even though Jericho went to the trouble of getting some new trunks, so I’ll move on.

Don't look so shocked, Jericho. You should have taken a leaf out of Punk's book and gone for the military look.

By the time the Divas match rolled around, I had all but given up on my predictions. Even the outcome of the Divas match, which was added to the card just days before the show, was incorrectly predicted.  Of course, the ladies looked extra sparkly for the prom. Even Vickie Guerrero, who led the bad gals to victory, had a very special outfit made.

Batista was in his standard PVC knickers, but wearing the title belt really blinged-up his groin. John Cena, who didn’t divert at all from his usual jeans, summoned up the help of some scary looking riflemen.

Anyway, you know those great promos we all got wrapped up in before Wrestlemania? In the hype we managed to forget that neither Cena nor Batista are the best wrestlers on the planet, so they kind of botched and bumbled their way through the match.

Shut up, Dave. You know I’m right. AND you lost the bloody match. Stupid muscle daddy.

Apart from the Undertaker’s touching tribute to his girlfriend…..

….this really was all about the wrestling. Were Taker and Shawn Michaels as good as their performance at Wrestlemania 25? Probably not. But then, last year we weren’t comparing it to anything. It was truly special and Shawn Michaels’ tearful defeat started a whole week of nostalgia and eye wiping.

All-in-all, it was a great show. Sure, they tried to squeeze too much into the four hours and some of the matches suffered as a result, but it’s Wrestlemania and everyone wants their moment. The fun and games for the next year of wrestling goodness kicked off the next night on Raw, and that’s where I shall take you next.

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First off, some sad news. I’m afraid Crotch Watch is now officially gone. I know you were all hoping I’d change my mind, but I’ve flipped the switch on the life support machine and have bid my tearful farewells. Don’t worry, it didn’t feel a thing. Here’s the kicker though; as well as inspecting the groins of wrestlers a little more closely than I should have, I also used CW as a platform to discuss wrestle-fashions. I kind of miss that part, so I’ve given birth to strut, pose, turn. Not only are some of our more established heroes making some…. ‘interesting’ fashion choices at the moment, but the new string of NXT rookies are also a bizarre crew of fashion triumphs and disasters. Seriously, Justin Gabriel, what were you thinking?

PS---> Lookin' smooth this week, Striker. See you at the weekend. Mwah!

I’ve never been to South Africa, but I’m pretty sure this isn’t standard dress on the streets of Cape Town. Still, you have to admire a man who would not only wear a white dress on global television, but a white dress that makes him look like a bit of a bloater. I can’t help but feel I’ve seen something similar before though. Maybe Justin took inspiration from a certain Newcastle lass.

Anyway, I’ll probably mix things up and include lots of different people in future posts. I may even have to include a few trunk inspections. Shutup! If they’re clothing, they’re fashion. For this first post though, I want to concentrate on the man who appears in the segment banner. Yes, everyone’s favourite bearded bad-guy, Dave Batista.

When he was a face, I can’t remember taking much notice of Dave’s threads. But as a heel, he’s been fashion roadkill week-after-week. In my role as chief mickey-taker, I feel  it’s my duty to drive back down that road and scrape up those festering clothing carcases with a shovel.

The first indication that things might be going awry for Dave came back in December at the Slammys.

I actually loved this outfit. Real men wear pink and all that. And besides, he was taking Maria’s Diva of the Year moment a la Kanye West/Taylor Swift at the VMAs. No problem.

But Dave obviously got a taste for the golf-shirt lifestyle and decided to carry it on a little longer.

It didn’t end there. In pure nouveau-riche style, he appeared on the Raw titantron to address John Cena in his Ralph Lauren Polo. LOGO TO THE MAX! Oh and the aviators were a must to top-off the look. Not sure how much you paid for those, David, but they sell them in TopShop for about 15 quid. Just sayin’.

From here, Dave decided to take a different clothing route. In one foul swoop he went from fair-weather golfer to King of Double-Denim. There are ways to wear double-denim and still look cool. For example, Christina Ricci looks pretty laid back and chilled in hers:

Captain of all Teenage Hearts, Zac Efron, pulls it off regularly:

Eternally stylish David Beckham makes it look effortless:

And then there’s fabulous Dave Batista; shirtless, bulging and with the style savvy of a South-Western trucker.

Oh Dave. Couldn’t you at least have put a shirt on, sweets? Ah. Of course not, because then we wouldn’t have seen that oiled, rippling, 6-pack, right?

But this wasn’t the end. Batista’s finest fashion hour came on this week’s Raw when he rolled in looking like the 80’s gay scene had just vomited him up.

That studded leather cuff alone is criminal, but the whole ensemble is both amazing and atrocious at the same time. I can’t even look at that picture without imagining him disappearing behind the curtain and throwing shapes to some wicked David Guetta beats. Click play, close your eyes and imagine it:

I’m tempted to suggest that someone in the wardrobe department has a word in Dave’s ear, but the anticipation of which combination of gaudy designer names, pleather waistcoats and fur-collared denim he might come up with next is kind of exciting. Keep on truckin’, David Batista. I bloody love you!