Scene city: Cosmo’s flesh for fantasy
Cosmopolitan’s sexiest SA men line up at the entrance to Taboo in Sandton.
Picture: Lucky Nxumalo
I found a husband at Taboo and it’s all thanks to Cosmopolitan magazine unveiling its Sexiest Men Calendar for 2013.
There weren’t too many heavy-hitting celebs, but the schlebs who were there did alright, ogling the fine specimens on show.
I spotted TV presenter Noluthando “Nolly” Meje in a figure-hugging dress and bald head.
I’m yet to get used to her hairless head.
Isidingo actress Letoya Mangezi seems to have taken jogging to the extreme if her sinuous body is anything to go by.
But I have to admit she looked hot in a gold number.
Her castmate Tema Sebopedi was also on point in a short animal-print number paired with red heels.
But the poor thing looked so lost and miserable, I felt sorry for her. Two words, darl: friend or entourage.
The ever-present Pearl Thusi was her usual loud and wonderful self.
The entrance was where all the fun was happening and though the inside was packed to the brim eventually, we were none too pleased with the cash bar.
I mean, really! In Jan-U-Worry nogal!
Miss Fascinator Jen Su was surprisingly minus headgear this time.
However, the red number she wore looked three sizes too small and missing more material than Rihanna’s dresses.
Hlelo and Ntando Masina were also there – those girls might as well steal my diary.
Oh, if only they could be relevant again.
It’s about time Gert-Johan Coetzee kicked his signature hair, bowtie and handbag look.
Those tassles must be falling off by now.
The one thing that kept going higher than the heat in the air conditionerless club were the screams from the ladies.
As Maps Maponyane took the coveted prize of sexiest man for 2013, ladies chanted “Take Me Home”.
The slogan became an anthem as they begged to adopt every man that appeared.
Lunga Shabalala’s outfit was a bit of a disappointment and he definitely did not look the part of a past winner.
So while ladies were chanting at the likes of Peet Mocke, Andile Mxakaza and Graeme Richardson, who is just a dream, I manoeuvred my way over to Mr September, Charl Crous, the Olympic swimmer.
Luckily, I had a tissue with me to constantly mop up the drool from my mouth.
The music was great, but not even that could keep the people inside after the event as, again, the exit was the popular spot.
Cash bar, really!?
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