Putting It All Together

As we all know, sartorial splendor isn't easy to achieve. It's not like you can just go out and buy style, since style isn't readily available off the rack. If anything, the more money you have, the more likely you are to commit fashion seppuku. However, once you have style, it's yours. Forever.

It's like the fountain of youth, but more flashy and probably less invigorating. I'd probably pick admirable personal style over everlasting life anyway. Who wants to live forever but look like crap all day long? Not me.

Two people whose styles I greatly admire have now started an amazing blog. And when I use the word "amazing," I mean that they are amazing people, and that they have amazing style, and that they have an amazing blog. It's not often a blog comes along that actually makes you wait for its next update. That's so 2002, when blogs were hot and people were stuck in "I just got out of college" boring office jobs. Now you have to make yourself worthy of a read and fight for attention. Luckily, A Question of Taste is the answer to everything. Yeah, just everything.

A historical note: I was around when Betsy and Phat Tony first hit the New York scene. They were greenie sexy cool then but they've become incandescent pillars of Manhattan now. Phat Tony has been blogging for quite some time and we've ventured into some blog collaborations -- however brief. But Betsy is proving to be his perfect blog partner and I'm crazy excited to see the two of them blogging together.

I'd actually like to see them turn their powers toward analyzing the style of people we know in common, but that may have to be through a more personal form of communication. Or at least CC me on those emails since I know you two do it anyway.

"There's no one on planet Earth right now that personifies the phrase 'done lost her mind' better than Britney Spears. She's a baby-dropping, cheetos-eating, train wreck of an aging pop star and we all know she flipped out and shaved her head a few months back but we'd much rather see her sporting some kind of fierce GI Jane buzzcut rather than what she's been doing

The Britney Spears headscarf. This look says sloppy to us. We really hate it. We think it might be ok to and fro the gym or at the beach but really never else. And what's most disturbing is the idea that this trend is spreading."
-A Question of Taste-

These Boots Are Made for Walkin'

Some people are inherently interesting, some people buy/wear interesting. Then some people buy/wear interesting but somehow fall very far short of it. It's not the same as being a poser but at the same time, it's very close. Why is it some people can decorate themselves (literally or figuratively) with their interests and passions and have them become windows into their personality while others do it but seem entirely fake about it? It's amazing how within a few minutes time, you can determine whether or not someone is "legit."

I love people who decorate themselves with their personality. It makes it much easier to determine if I'll potentially enjoy speaking with them. I'm always looking for visual cues for something to talk about. So much the better if the person is wearing them and I don't have to explore their room, their car, or hack into their diary.

This, of course, calls into question who someone dresses up for. This is similar to the endless debate of if girls dress to impress guys or gals. For example, if I'm about to meet someone for the first time, I can bring my man-purse, wear my Blogger t-shirt, or pull out my iPhone at an opportune time. All of these are foremost choices for me but they are also for the benefit of others.

They're all essentially conversation pieces, but planted beforehand. Expand this out for every item you wear and you reach the current status quo of wearing what you believe in (may it be religion, brand names, or city affiliation). I've always been very wary of wearing labels or brands because there's hardly enough things I believe in to wear them across my chest. Plus my chest only fits a few letters across so anything longer than "Gap" would get cut off. "Sean John" would be very truncated.

Every time you step out to meet someone, you are projecting an image by the things you choose to wear. I mean, everyone does this right? Thus, it makes sense that you'd want to control the message by only wearing things that you're proud of, or are an accurate reflection of yourself (well, according to your perspective). Looking about it this way, then you can start to see what a person thinks of themselves. Essentially, everyone's wearing their own vanity, right?

But man, some people do it so much better than others.

It's Black, It's White

I'm trying to figure out the correlation between how long you haven't seen someone versus how much you talk to them. I think it's negative. You can easily not see someone for years, ask the casual "so what's been going on?" and get a two sentence answer. I find this very impersonal, deflating, and a bit off-putting. Then again, I hate playing the catch up game so really, shouldn't a two sentence response be ideal? Nobody wants to spend twenty minutes recapping the minutiae of each other's past lives. The goal is to move quickly from what you missed -- the last few years -- to what TV shows and movies you currently watch.

I've discovered that the most useful topic when meeting up with people (anyone outside of close friends status) is TV or movies. If they don't actively do either of those things? Then we're at an impasse. It's pretty sad really. Small talk has been reduced to what's on channel seven at 9pm.

The other thing I've noticed recently is that my small talk is highly racist. I know, that sounds pretty bad, but hear me out. There's a racial/cultural divide in our fine country and it's not just imaginary. Once I can get a look at someone I immediately change my small talk topics. I like to lead with family and personal history talk with Asians. I presume they're second generation or something, thus I can ask them about moving here and how strict their parents are. This tactic also works nicely with any recently immigrated peoples. Black people, I lead with some music or sports. White people, I kind of muddle around until I can figure out what type of white person I'm dealing with and then move along to the appropriate topic.

I have to do this because I like to avoid asking about work, relationships, or any of the other standard opening lines. It's like chess. Why play e4 when you can instead separate yourself and confuse the defense by playing the English (c4)?

I should probably take some time out to flow chart my small talk strategy. Has anyone ever used Microsoft Visio? It's a flow chart making program and it's amazing. I've been making a lot of work related flow charts recently and I'm thinking that I should go the extra mile and flow chart everything in my life. That way I can template out my "social plan" and have other people regurgitate it exactly.

Then we can all be bowling alone, together.

Carnal Carnival

Oh yeah, we went to Vegas recently. It was Razor Ramon's bachelor party; and Kat's bachelorette. It's the first real bachelor party I've been to -- and will probably ever go to. I mean, I'd normally decline bachelor party debauchery but for Ryan, I sucked it up. Did I mention I hate Vegas? Oh wait, I always say that. I find myself being a repeating record recently. I like to perpetually broadcast that I dislike something. Vegas, dim sum, crowds, people, all those in combination, etc. I should work on being more positive. The term "Daddy Downer" is really starting to apply to me. Except for that "daddy" part.

Anyway, since I can't reveal any details about the Vegas trip -- male code of honor, what stays in vegas, blah blah -- I must instead present my argument for why I'm anti-strip club. For some reason, certain people on the trip kept saying that I was anti-breasts. For the record, I'm not anti-breasts just because I'm anti-strip club. It's not an A plus B equals C kind of thing. Or double EE equals MC squared or whatever. I'm not even sure how this rumor started but I'll roll with it; I think they were joking about the whole fear of breasts thing anyway. I think.

To start, ever since I was a young boy, I've managed to consistently avoid certain potholes on the path to manhood. An obsessive need to see naked women for example. Or how to effectively lift jugs of water. Or how to use power tools without panicking. Completely swerved off the road when those stops came around. But let's not talk about my shortcomings and instead focus on the positives.

At sixteen (or eighteen or twenty one or anything) I wasn't trying to find the nearest naked lady and hang around her. This applied to paid or unpaid naked ladies. It's uncomfortable enough at that age being around girls who are splashing their assets all over the place; why put yourself into a situation where a roomful of guys are all lusting after the same thing? Unless it's tech or geek related, it's super weird. Nothing's gayer (excuse the term) than fifteen guys sitting around watching one girl get naked.

Nothing existentially screams "loser" more than knowing that the only way you could get this close to a super hot girl is by paying her. I prefer to keep the super hot girls in my life at a distance. Or maybe that's the other way around.

My main point is: naked people should be naked alone. It's like your intimate relationship with God. Everyone can know you have one, but is it really necessary to have an audience? Not really -- especially an audience of your guy friends? I'm losing my train of thought here. I almost wish I had a religious conviction to explain my stance on strip clubs. But I'm not religious so that easily defendable reason is out the window.

Jon's top reasons to avoid strip clubs and strippers
(1) It's degrading to women; but I have no real logical argument here, I just think it is
(2) It's gay; contrary to its manly connotation
(3) It's apparently very expensive
(4) You can't touch anything; I'm a tactile person, curiosity skins the hand and gets you slapped (or beat up)
(5) It's super uncomfortable; the situation and physically

I can't even really figure out the whole relationship ethics of strip clubs. Okay, so wait, I'm not allowed to talk to my female friends when they are -- and have always been -- fully clothed, but I am allowed to see random strangers strip for me? Where does this fit into the whole scheme of things? Are strip clubs allowed in relationships because it's a traditional thing? If I push cuddle buddies harder and market it better, would that become an acceptable relationship activity? Could married people then cuddle with strangers and have no repercussions? Where's the line here?

All in all, I had a great time in Vegas this time around. My favorite story is how we had to reject strippers that were hired to the room because they were too ugly. This happened twice. In a row. Ordering strippers ala carte from street ads is apparently a bad way to go; especially at 2am when all the "good" strippers are already out and about. I kind of felt bad for them actually. What kind of blow to the self-esteem is it for a girl to be rejected from taking her clothes off? Ouch.

"Trent, the beautiful babies don't work the midnight to six shift on a Wednesday, this is like the skank shift."
-Swingers-

Big Game Hunters

We've recently begun this new theory. Or rather, just a comparison. We like comparisons.

You can define a guy's dating style by assigned them animals. I probably don't need to explain further but I will. For example, we know a friend who has the (girl-)hunting style of a cheetah. Once he sees something he likes, he takes off running; tirelessly chasing (obsessing) until she exhausts herself. Then he catches up to her and suffocates her to death -- or into a relationship -- with a clench to the throat. The suffocation is necessary because the cheetah's jaws aren't strong enough to break the neck of the prey it hunts. That's one style.

Another one is the pack hunter, like a wolf or a killer whale. This guy needs his group to surround and envelope the "kill." Working in concert with a bunch of friends (often unknowingly), this hunter can strike from the blind-side and get dates by exclusively working with teammates.

Then we have the tiger. Designed for camouflage, powerful weapons of destruction, and always works alone. Hum, I wonder who that could be? The possibilities here are endless.

Of course, we also have the flip side. If men are animals -- instinctive dumb ones at that -- then what are females? Vegetation! Beautiful flowering plants if you prefer. Since most women are generally the chasee, it makes total illogical sense to assign them the stationary plant role. But it can get so much more complicated since plants are really predators too.

We all know about the cactus girl who's initially hard to get close to but then opens up after exposing her soft underbelly. Or the woman who charms by dazzlingly displaying her wares for all the world to see. Then there's the meantime girl, who can best be assigned the plant value of moss, hanging ivy, or weeds. Often it comes down to not "Why" in these cases but "Why not?"

Comparisons for roses, palm trees, and poppies are easily made for the females I know. And don't even get me started on venus fly traps, pitcher plants, and things of that ilk. "Girls are smart, don't throw yourselves at them!"

While this can't be the most original comparison point of all time, it sure is amusing when applied to your friends. Well, at least it's amusing to me.

Alternately, we had used the plant cycle of life to describe how a certain person patterns their dating life. Some people are evergreens, constantly dating; some are seasonal, blooming only spring or summer. And oh those perennials: live and die by the sword of love but always coming back for more. Some people date so rarely -- seemingly every three thousand years like the mythical udumbara -- or so quickly that it seems like whole relationships blossom and falter in just a few days (a corpse flower relationship).

?uestlove

Here's a list of questions a friend recently asked me:

a. Do you feel successful?
b. Do you feel fulfilled?
c. Do you feel bored?
d. Do you feel influential?
e. "In life, one must choose between boredom and suffering." Do you agree with this?
f. How do you measure success?

She requested "Yes/No" answers because she's traveling in Peru or something. Which leads me to believe that she's pondering these same questions herself. Keep in mind that she's hardly on a quarter-life crisis expedition. She's well on her way to graduating from the Woodrow Wilson School of Public and International Affairs at Princeton. Her first week on campus, she saw John Nash shuffling around. Yeah, he of the Beautiful Mind.

By many standards of traditional success, this particular friend is well on her way to a fulfilling and important life. This is after meandering her way from a liberal arts degree to a possible fine arts career, to hosting a NPR-style radio show in Taiwan. Life pushes you in funny directions but it always comes back to the same questions doesn't it?

Most of my conversations with Mary revolve around defining and finding happiness. I'm a puzzle to her because I'm consistently happy while also consistently achieving nothing. She's a go-getter who consistently achieves but is never consistently satisfied -- forcing her to reflect every step of the way.

Now that we're both "doing something," it seems like we're coming ever closer to achieving the Five Points of Success (Career, Friendship, Relationship, Health, General Happiness). But it hardly seems much different than before.

Many times, people assume you're doing well because your paper life is doing well. Great job, fulfilling relationship, wonderful friends, happy, etc. But many times, despite outward appearances, nothing's right at all.

Here's my question: Which would you rather have? Help or self-help?

The Funnies

Went to the Ice House to watch Brian perform last night. First things first, it's not easy to be a stand-up comedian. Think about it. You're in front of an audience trying to convince them that you're worth their time. Looking at the modes of persuasion blog from a few days ago, a stand-up comedian rarely has any of those three factors going for him off the bat. In fact, the crowd is more likely to be against you than be neutral.

If ever there was a measure of a man (or woman), stand-up must be one of them. Having said that, Brian did a very good job. He's funny. Yes folks, he's funny. Having only seen three of the other nine comedians performing, it's unfair for me to say that he was the funniest but he definitely wasn't the unfunniest. I mean, he didn't move all this way out here to pursue comedy and not be funny. Here's the video of his set, he easily got the most laughs per minute from the night.

I'd imagine it's hard to even aspire to be a comedian. I mean, the sheer mystery of how the comedy scene works and how to succeed in it would be a huge hurdle for me. What are the steps that turn one into a success? What does a successful comedian look like? I mean, it's that way with any artistic pursuit you're trying to turn into a vocation. You start to wonder what it takes to make X amount of money. It's no longer about the art but how to monetize that art.

You can write, dance, sing, stand-up, gyrate, or paint all day and be the best at it but you'll be nowhere without an audience. Like Brian mentioned as we ate tacos after the show, he didn't realize how much self-promotion it takes to get ahead. And it's true. You're not selling your talent, you're selling yourself to people. Big difference.

The general public is hardly capable of judging an artist based on artistic merit. People could care less if someone is original or not; they just want to be entertained. Getting booked for gigs mainly comes down to how many butts you can get in seats. Who cares if you suck? If you can get a thousand people to watch you suck, you're a success! It's not even about selling out; it's about trying to eat and pay rent.

I, myself, can't wait to sell out. It's one thing to appreciate art but quite another to capably create it. Cream rises to the top but (other people's) money stays put unless you go grab it.