Many’s the night I’ve laid awake wondering ‘What if one fifth of Korean boy band and all round swoon-fest BIG BANG were to turn up in London?’ Well lucky for me I can put away my sedatives (or 'special bedtime friends’ as I call them), because it’s finally happened – in a flurry of pastelle suits and guyliner, G-Dragon, whose role within the group could most accurately be described as ‘demented rap pixie’, arrived on these shores ready to take in the wonders of our great capital in the video to his single ‘CROOKED’. Hold on to your novelty Union Jack underpants, people, this day trip’s about to get weird.
First of all, may I just say it was very rude of G-Dragon to come to my home town and not tell me. I could have put together a lovely itinerary for him. We’d have gone to the Tate, visited a nice antiques market, maybe taken in a show… But no. G-Dragon did not call me. I know this because I rang Vodafone and they told me for the fifth time no, no one from Korea called you, please stop asking.
Well, I’m sad to say that without my expert guidance he ballsed his visit right up. For starters he is clearly lost.
He tries to throw the traffic cone off his trail by switching clothes and running like a prat.
If he thinks that dressing like a child will save him from predators, he clearly hasn’t heard about Operation Yewtree.
He decides to hide out in an east London boozer. Excellent plan - with his platinum bouffant, eyeliner, and lightening nipples, he’s completely inconspicuous amongst the local hipster residents. But he has overlooked one key detail – he is drinking FOUR PINTS OF WATER. No one in a British pub has ever done that; I think it might be illegal.
Phew! G-Dragon’s found the Community Safety Office.
Unfortunately, it’s not quite the safe haven he was hoping for – in fact it looks like the Houses of Parliament following a flood, a flood which also cruelly robbed him of his shirt. There appears to be a chair on the ceiling.
Things go from bad to worse. Having made his naked escape from the Community Safety Office, G-Dragon kills and skins a stray bear and takes to crouching like some sort of subterranean stig in Greenwich Foot Tunnel.
And then the hipster terrorism begins …
Enraged by this Alex Turner wannabe and his girlfriend’s unnecessary sunglasses, G-Dragon goes ape shit.
But still remembers to reapply lipgloss.
Having alienated the trendsters and declined to call his eager and very good-looking London friends, poor G-Dragon is forced to play alone.
Yeah, you should feel bad – you could be at a matinee showing of Book of Mormon right now.
Finally, he decides to stop being such a dry lunch and get into the London spirit. He starts by trying out the national sport of football.
And the other national sport of abusing doormen.
Note this is not the same furry coat he was wearing earlier in the video. How many bears need to die in service of your bizarre hair coat fetish, G-Dragon?!
Here G-Dragon is seen sitting a street away from my office. At this point he clearly tried to visit me but got lost again. You can tell because of how sad he looks.
With his new found British hubris he confronts and defeats his old enemy the traffic cone.
And celebrates by donning his finest velveteen trousers and taking a trip to a traditional English barber … sort of …
Why is everyone in this salon doing their own hair?
He even manages to recruit some friends – Spivvy, Terrence, and Mungo. Guess who’s who.
Together, they shit all over a hipster picnic.
Like a true Londoner, G-Dragon tops the whole thing off by falling asleep in someone’s salad while strangers look on in mute disgust.
Aww. He’s all tuckered out after a long day of hipster bashing.
Lucky for him, his new friends have introduced him to another London staple.
It’s time to put on some leather shorts and hit the town!
All that manic drug-laced running is thirsty work though, so the lads stop off for a few more pints of Volvic.
Soon G-Dragon’s back on form and harassing your typical street band.
Take that balloons!
Finally, they make it out, and G-Dragon, his nostrils crusty with powder and his head spinning with memories of his day in the Big Smoke, is having the time of his life.
But it all gets a bit too much and like many before him, he ends up crying in the ladies.
He appears to have stumbled upon a cubicle with both bog roll and a seat, which is more than I ever find on a Saturday night, so really he should count himself lucky.
Finally, G-Dragon passes out on Cargo’s sticky cokey floor. Who am I kidding, this is exactly how his night would have ended if he’d been with me.
Good night, sweet prince. May your come down be gentle and involve bacon.
All image in this post are the property of YG Entertainment.
I’m only kidding about Cargo’s floor. I’m sure it’s a glistening oasis of sobriety.