Me making Fashion Santa uncomfortable. Photo via Daily VICE
When I ran into, and recognized, Toronto's "Fashion Santa" in Liberty Village the other day, he immediately assumed I wanted a photo with him.
You can't blame the guy. Everybody and their mother (emphasis on sexually-frustrated moms) has been hounding him for a selfie, Justin Bieber not excluded. We are all apparently so collectively starved for hotness, that the idea of a trim, centuries-old saint donning Burberry and John Fluevogs is enough to warrant international media attention.
I admit, Hot Santa, whose real name is Paul Mason and real job is modeling, is a good-looking older dude. He's got a chiseled face, toothy grin, and a distinctive undercut. Plus, the beard. Being single, I thought, "fuck it" and asked him out. He obliged, almost certainly not realizing it was a date, with me being a journalist and all.
For more Hot Santa date footage, watch Daily VICE.
We met up Wednesday at a cafe in Yorkdale mall, where Hot Santa has been doing his thing this season (e.g. standing and taking selfies with thousands of grown-ass men and women who wait hours in line for the chance score more than 20 likes on a single Instagram post). To be fair, or at least slightly less snarky, every selfie taken results in a donation to SickKids hospital.
Before we were even seated, several people bombarded Hot Santa with pic requests. He took them like a pro and then ordered a coffee—he really wanted a cappuccino, he said, but not enough to risk messing up his beard for the cameras.
"Georgia could you get me a napkin, please? I feel like I'm a little shiny," he asked one of Yorkdale's publicists who tagged along during the date to make sure Hot Santa didn't go off-brand.
I didn't play coy with Hot Santa, asking him straight up if there was a Mr. or Mrs. Claus in the picture.
"I'm too busy at the moment," he replied. When pressed on this point ad nauseum, he reiterated, "there's no one in my life." But that doesn't mean he hasn't been propositioned.
"I'm not going to lie to you, we get some odd comments," Hot Santa told me. "The popular one is, 'Are you going to slide down my chimney tonight?'" He claims he deflects such advances.
From a dating perspective, one of my concerns was that fame may have gotten to Hot Santa's head, and I told him as much. Not at all concerned with allaying my fears, he said, "I don't think anybody could top this. When you are trending, I think that's kind of impressive. Maybe Kate Moss trends. It's pretty amazing."
He did stress that he's "not here to take the place of any Santa" but also lowkey suggested he's a younger, fitter version of the OG Claus. (Maybe we should think of him as a Santa origin story—like, the Batman Begins of Santa.)
Despite the diva vibes (the man referenced his $1,000 scarf several times), Hot Santa and I do have a few things in common. We both love Rio, live in Parkdale, and are childless. When I asked him what he'd prefer as a treat over milk and cookies, he said "Ketel One. A cocktail, maybe a martini, something like that." It just so happens that vodka is also my poison of choice. Perhaps I'll join him for one in the offseason.
Follow Manisha Krishnan on Twitter.
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