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July 22, 2008

Have You Seen Your Mother, Baby, Standing In The Shadows?

Well, I didn't intend to go four days without posting, and my thanks to the 3 or 4 diehards who refuse to give up on me (especially my best friend J, who posted the flowerlude - and can we just say how beautiful his flower photos are - and wrote to make sure I wasn't dead).

I'm not dead... but I'm struggling. Some of it is.... well, personal, and I really won't be sharing it here (that's not my way); some of it is also personal, but part of the political scene as well. So I thought that would be as good a place as any to start.

As you might guess, since I talk about being a Starbuckian, my income is not what it once was, or what it needs to be. No disrespect to Howard intended, but it's hard to get by on a small hourly wage and the kindness of strangers (a/k/a tips). What started as a merely interesting moment of feeling somewhat strapped has gone on to a feeling of being generally destitute. And it's hard, not so much because of all the things I can't have or do - in the end, you come to appreciate that unnecessary things are, well, unnecessary - but because writing (when I am writing) is providing so much joy, it's hard to contemplate giving that up to chase extra income.

So Saturday, I didn't write because Jennifer and I were traipsing around my nab, window shopping... which was very nice, as we both try to enjoy a new spirit of "look, but don't buy", and really, that makes for an entertaining afternoon trying on sky-high Ferragamo shoes at Nieman Marcus. It was blazing hot, and eventually, the whole day was lost to travel and meeting people, and when I ultimately got home it was too late to really blog effectively.

Sunday, I worked, and that's where I - and my co-worker - discovered this awful story on the front page of the Times, Gretchen Morgenson's admirable attempt to tie together the corporate interests in the debt crisis with an actual individual story.  That the story itself was incredibly sad (and a little predictable), only made the sense of identification all the more vivid. A single mom who got herself way too deep in debt, it looks as though she will lose everything... and still owe on her debts.

And she's not alone.  I think the story affected me more deeply than I first thought, because the idea of even writing about it stranded me for another day. Until this morning when I saw David Brooks follow up on his "debt culture" column with another, fairly dead-on assessment of the problem:

On the front page of Sunday’s Times, Gretchen Morgenson described Diane McLeod’s spiral into indebtedness, and now a debate has erupted over who is to blame.

Some people emphasize the predatory lenders who seduced her with too-good-to-be-true credit lines and incomprehensible mortgage offers. Here was a single mother made vulnerable by health problems and divorce. Working two jobs and stressed, she found herself barraged by credit card companies offering easy access to money. Mortgage lenders offered her credit on the basis of the supposedly rising value of her house. These lenders had little interest in whether she could pay off her loans. They made most of their money via initial lending fees and then sold off the loans to third parties.

In short, these predatory companies swooped down on a vulnerable woman, took what they could and left her careening toward bankruptcy.

Other people emphasize McLeod’s own responsibility. She is the one who took the credit card offers knowing that debt is a promise that has to be kept. After her divorce, she went on a shopping spree to make herself feel better. After surgery, she sat at home watching the home shopping channels, charging thousands more.

Free societies depend on individual choice and responsibility, those in this camp argue. People have to be held accountable for their indulgences or there is no justice. As McLeod herself admirably told Morgenson: “I regret not dealing with my emotions instead of just shopping.”

If you go to the online comment section affixed to Morgenson’s article, you see advocates of these two positions talking past one another, one side talking the morality of social protection and the other the morality of personal responsibility.

Brooks goes on to argue that there's a third way to look at this: that our culture helped make being in debt seem the norm, made consumption the objective (mass luxury), and changed our decision making and our behaviors.  It';s a way of saying... we all bear some responsibility in this.

I suspect many people will be put off by Brooks - he's already got a passionate set of detractors - but I think this is a moment where he's getting it right: finding the center, and saying that as much as anything, we need to be a better society made up of better people with a better value system. That's going to seem, to many on the left especially, like a moral judgment about people like Diane McLeod. But the point is... we are all like Ms. McLeod.

The problem with the debt and mortgage crisis story, I've thought all along, is that it brings out the distinction makers - "I didn't do that," "that's not me," "those people should have known better." Myself. I think people who amassed massive credit card debt really should have known better, but with mortgages I think many people were swindled by banks and lenders who did not explain in enough detail what these mortgages meant to people who did not understand what they were signing on for. But in any case, what's already happening is that, on the margins, in the shadows... people are starting to lose everything. And if we don't get conscious to the problem soon, we will all be facing it.

July 15, 2008

The Return Of The Brown Years

Back in the eighties - when, in an un-ironic manner, we thought we were having a blast reviving the sixties - the worst thing in the world (no, really) was expressing any kind of positive nostalgia for the... *shudder*... 70s-show13 seventies. Spy Magazine was the first place I saw the decade referred to as "The Brown Years", and the moniker seemed so appropriate: that awful mix of wood paneling, "harvest gold" appliances, plaid upholstered furniture... oh, the horror.

Somewhere along the way - I blame grunge - all of that got reversed: the eighties were suddenly tragic, plastic, big shouldered, mulleted and overly bright... and the seventies were sublime, underrated, and a design feast. (And of course, somewhere along the way, Spy turned into a pale imitation of itself... and now we get former Spy-meister Graydon Carter draining the joy out of Vanity Fair.)

The re-appraisal of the seventies, at first seemed fair: sure, much of the fashion was tragic, the polyester blends unfortunate... but reinterpreted and re-styled, it was clear that indeed some adventurous notions of interior design had been abandoned too soon. Dark wood floors, modernist furniture... even, as Jennifer notes to me frequently, the return of "wear what you like" fashion  had a liberating quality that had been missing for a while.

Well, all good things must pass... and the past couple of years have been a tipping point of figuring out what comes next in design and fashion, without a lot of clear indications. In th meantime, the celebration of seventies-chic appears to have run its course... and we are back to: The Brown Years.

Continue reading "The Return Of The Brown Years" »

June 04, 2008

YSL

Yves Saint Laurent was the only fellow couturier that Gabrielle Chanel “approved” of.  She hated Dior for putting women in clothes that set them back 100 years-the tight jackets and corsets, the spike heels. Yves et al The freedoms of movement and independence for a new day that Dior took away.  She hated all the other male designers who came before or were her contemporaries and she tolerated Elsa Schiaparelli.  But in Monsieur Saint-Laurent she recognized a kindred soul (even though she wouldn’t have admitted it) in dressing women in clothing that was beautiful and elegant but gave them independence and power.  His work could have almost been a continuation if hers. 

YSL reached his apex at a time when women were beginning to become truly important and successful in the world of business giving us elegant and exciting clothes to wear each day.    And pants were instrumental to that success.  

The fashion lexicon that YSL gave us has seeped into the rich language of our clothes in a similar to Shakespeare’s language still present in our language today-sometimes it’s so subtle you don’t even realize it.  Certainly the obvious references of chic and severe pants suits and the safari looks but also all the interesting sleeves we have today, the jewel colors, the way women can be successful in business but wear gorgeous over the top clothes, really tall boots, using street fashion to inspire the couture. 

Continue reading "YSL" »

June 01, 2008

Yves Saint Laurent

As I remember it - and it's a selective memory, I admit - the idea of fashion and being fashionable seeped into my consciousness as a child in the seventies and came attached to one name: Yves Saint Laurent. Before I completely understood what "fashion designer" meant, the idea that Yves Saint LaurentLesmoking meant "fashion" and style was very clear.

Over time, I learned more and my appreciation of Saint Laurent only deepened; for more than 40 years, Saint Laurent designed collections, first for Dior and then for himself, with almost no misses. He helped create the modern notion of the designer brand, licensing his name to more than 500 different lines from eyewear to bedsheets to cigarettes. My mother, for years, wore Rive Gauche, his main fragrance. My sister, as a teen, loving the rose scent, wore Paris.

His vision was amazing, and in many ways unmatched: he created some of the best clothes for high society women, yet never lost sight of the many sides of a woman's life - he created clothes for women who worked, and clothes that acknowledged women's sexiness without being obvious or sleazy. He was the one who made pants dressing for women into high fashion, who made the "peasant look" a staple of high style. It was he who could make a widow's black dress look like a come on for husband number five... and yet, respectable. He effectively adapted modern art to fashion, famously using the prints of Mondrian, Picasso, Matisse and others in his designs to amazing effect.

And the women he dressed! Catherine Deneuve, Charlotte Rampling, Jane Birkin, LouLou de la Falaise, Nan Kempner. Actresses and socialites, professional women and models. Saint Laurent made women look beautiful, alive, and sexy. And classy. Nothing underscored his amazing vision as much as his retreat into retirement, when The Gucci Group bought his house and installed Tom Ford as his replacement.  Where Ford's louche obviousness updated Gucci's staid image, his similar approach to Saint Laurent only took an elegant line and made it something tarted up and obvious. Only in recent years under Stefano Pilati, has the line begun to approach returning to the power of the master.

Driving home this afternoon, the news announced that Saint Laurent has died. It's easy to see what we've lost as immeasurable, and irreplacable. There will never be another - indeed it takes many current fashion names to equal one of him: Gaultier has his skill if not his panache, Galliano has his verve and vision if not his subtlety, Elbaz has his technical gifts... and on and on. Couture is not dead because of Saint Laurnet; it's near death because women's lives have changed dramatically, and fashion has changed in response. And the person who saw that, in no small part, was Yves Saint Laurent. There will never be another... but I think that's what he intended.

May 30, 2008

Diamonds On The Soles Of Her Shoes

If you need it in brief: The Sex and The City Movie is fabulous. Go. Now.
Sex-and-the-city-main
If you need it longer, then perhaps you are more like Samantha.

I'm not; but beyond all of the "which SATC girl are you" (the quizzes where the gay boys wind up choosing between Carrie's Stanford and Charlotte's Anthony), is where the heart of the matter actually lies. The Sex and The City Movie succeeds best - and it frankly exceeded every expectation I had - because it's all about not believing your own press. Because it's not about Cosmos, or Manolos, or gay pals, or even man candy.

It's about love. And what we'll do for it.

Continue reading "Diamonds On The Soles Of Her Shoes" »

May 27, 2008

Notes From A Vacation

As Nevermind noted in comments last night, my discussion of TV watching from my trip may seem "one sided and strange"... I suppose there's no point to mentioning that a blog is pretty much a one-sided affair (mine), but I agree, my tastes can be... strange.

I could go into the long, er, strange, history of how my Memorial Day trip came to be - there was a plan to travel to Salt Lake City which fell through over finances, and this was an alternative that fit the moment, and the planned companion - but that story takes too long and probably only matters to maybe 10 people (5 of whom don't read this blog, though I try to convince them, repeatedly).

In any case, the trip that was an odd combination of convenience, circumstance, and opportunity became an object lesson in understanding who I am and what I actually like... and don't. Like decorating programs. Herewith, with no determination to offend anyone, but a likelihood to offend or puzzle all, some notes for myself on what I like in a vacation:
  • I don't like being stranded in the woods. That is, I really like to show up at places like the one I went with a car of my own and the opportunity to run to the store at my convenience, not others.
  • I'd rather be at the ocean than at a lake, and at a beach rather than in the woods.
  • I don't like the way "the woods" has become an extension of suburbia; this lakeside development amounted to a piece of gated suburbia for the second home set, giving "back to nature" a thoroughly commodified, managed air (the lake nearest us, as it turned out, had been drained and not refilled, which made yesterday's run to sunbathe a lost cause).
  • I also don't love the way "the woods" has bcome an extension of a kind of suburbia where the most basic services are 30-40 minutes away.
  • No more Wal-Marts. Ever.
  • When you, as an individual, go on a trip with a couple, you are reminded, very quickly, that it's called "third wheel" for a reason.
  • Apparently, though, dinner conversations about politics when everyone is interested are even fun with Republicans.
  • I really must learn not to overpack.
  • I need wifi; dialup will not do it, anymore.
  • I am no longer a night person. Oh well.
  • I agree one should leave a guest house much the way one found it... but there's clean, and then there's sterilized within an inch of its life.
I know, I know... who's ever going to want to invite Debbie Downer on another trip? A getaway is a getaway and one should be grateful to one's hosts. But I do think one should also know one's likes and dislikes enough to know when an offer may not be the right one. And so, though I feel like the girl who's unpacked her adjectives, I think I'm just chalking this one up to learning a little more about my own likes... and sticking up for them.

May 26, 2008

Coming Home... Just The Way I Left It

I had brave plans to get home and blog at length... but the trip was long, it's late and I'm tired.

I will say this, though, now that I'm home... I like being home, just the way it is. One interesting thing I got exposed to this weekend was a plethora of decorating shows on the House and Garden channel (thus providing a double edged cable experience - more channels, but more time spent watching landscaping than I would have picked for myself).

What fascinates me is how thinly the concept of a decorating show can be stretched.  Basically, show after show was ordinary shlub with a decorating problem (ugly living room, bad garden, house that won't sell), where a stylish - often gay, or in the case of the women, exuberant - "designer" came in and redid the space, usually along the lines of what you see in most of the magazines. It's nice enough, but four or so of these progeams... and you're not getting a lot of new insight.

I really thought I knew what this stuff was about... but I had no idea: there's a whole, endless, industry around this. Video crews wandering around dull neighborhoods, watching unconfident people get generally browbeaten into submission by urban types with a sense for clean lines and occasional dashes of color.

Knowing that Jennifer will get on me mercilessly for seeming so dismissive (never mind Ray, who was one of the design watching culprits), I still can't resist wondering what the appeal is here. It made five hours of SVU reruns, with every creep and kink on display in gruesome detail, seem like a welcome respite.

In any case, good to be home. Hi Mom. More here tomorrow.

May 16, 2008

Your American Dream Didn't Mean A Thing... Suburban King

This post has been swilling in my brain for a while, at times a positive one, at times a negative one... depending on how stuck I feel in my current living situation.

Still, with Ezra talking public transportation, it seemed as good a policy hook as any to try and lift my thoughts up to a different level.

It's been interesting, living in the suburbs, and driving more to do basic things than I have in 20 years or so. The 15 or so years I spent in the urban cores of New York and Boston were all about public transportation and walking. Now, it's into the car to go to work, to the store, to get gas... to get anywhere.

And without it... I feel trapped.

Continue reading "Your American Dream Didn't Mean A Thing... Suburban King" »

May 01, 2008

M Is For The Many Things She Gave Me...

With apologies to To Whom It May Concern, for swiping the concept...

Dear Barneys -

I am touched by your thoughtful suggestions for Mother's Day, but... I have to tell you, my Mom is 73.  She's not really looking for a "jewel thong slide" kind of thing, not anymore... well, not ever, really.  Now, if the Mom in question were Gwyneth Paltrow, maybe... but then I wouldn't be buying it for "Mom", I'd be buying it for "my baby's mama."

I just think we should try and be more precise with our words... or at least our marketing... don't you?

But hey, looking forward to seeing Christian Louboutin tonight (thanks, Jennifer!).  See ya then!

Kisses
NYC Weboy

Barneys_pic

April 19, 2008

The Cheese, Standing Alone

In my ever seeking quest to know all about retailing (the true sign of a know-it-all is the quiet observation before spouting off), Mom and I made a pilgrimage to Costco for the first time, and following that, to legendary Bronx/Yonkers grocer Stew Leonard's.

Perched high atop a hill, at the end of its own drive, Stew Leonard's is fairly impressive, though not particularly mind blowing for anyone whose seen the rise of Whole Foods, and the move of other grocery chains to be as full service (salad bars, hot meals, pizza ovens, sushi bars... the list goes on) as possible. The produce, cheese, meat and fish departments are decidedly impressive (deli, not so much, in my opinion), but higher end stores have that too.  Probably the most impressive element of Stew Leonard's is actually its layout, which forces one through every section (unlike the usual aisle setup where you could skip products you don't need).

Costco, on the other hand, was a horror show. I've heard tales of the legendary "warehouse shopping", the huge bargains, the vast selections... color me unimpressed; Industrial size amounts of lighting, batteries, detergent (even bras, for God's sake) are not my thing, and the savings, for what I saw, wasn't so much. If I were raising six kids on a budget... maybe; but even then the 64 count cases of Capri Sun... make me uncomfortable, not pleased. And, though I try not to make these things central to my viewpoint, it was hard to miss the Economy Size proportions of the patrons, either.  Another reason not to be in favor of those 64 count cases of Capri Sun, I fear.

I suspect, though, that Costco is bulletprrof from a retialing standpoint; as the economy worsens, many, I think, will be seduced by the call of "massive savings" for "low membership rates," even if the comparative worth of the deal (the measure of whether your membership fee is made up in purchase savings) is negligible at best. But my mom hates shopping... and Costco isn't really how I shop. It's just me... not the Mrs. (ha!) and six kids on a budget. The cheese stands alone. And likes it that way. If Stew Leonard's weren't such a haul (clear across the county), I'd probably make it a regular stop. As it is, I might go occasionally. And so, the quest goes on.