How Do You Tell Someone They Have Bad Taste?

(Ugh...)

At last nite's office holiday party, my fellow copywriters and I kiki off in a corner joined by one of our favorite customer service guys. All was well in the world until a friend of a friend mentioned being a part time music aficionado. The resident hipster in our group perked up her ears with an inquisitive "Oh"?

"Yes, my favorite musician is Jason Mraz. I've been a fan of his for so long I saw him play for $10 before anybody knew who he was"

Before we could let out the required laugh this obvious joke suggested (or I could quip he over payed) we realized he was being serious.

And we sat in awe


            


Hipster Office Co-Worker took the Pepsi challenge and threw out some other bands, hoping to move him away from his token guilty pleasure. I mean, we all get one (Hello, Selena Gomez)



When prompted, though, he threw out his other fave as, you guessed it, Dave Matthews Band.


It was over. I had to groan loudly. Ugh.


A heated band for band throwdown ensued and feeling threatened, he condescended " judging by your age..."

Well at least the 28 year old thinks my 32 year old ass looks younger. I'll take that as the wisest thing he said all eve.


We chose to end the conversation and in doing so, the nite. But I ask, how do you tell someone you don't know and is friends with someone you do know and like very much, "Dude, your taste sucks".


As we move out into the cold streets of Manhattan, Hipster Office Co-Worker goes "Damn! I hate it when boys I think are cute start talking"

Picture Graf: Inside Coke Joke

Behind these doors on Lafaytte Street is a well known 'speak easy' for the rich and think they're famous. There's always some graffiti coating the entrance for the sweet and elite, but this one is particularly rich with irony. 

I've Been Lookin' for Some Natty Boh on Draft

Perhaps this Little Italy bistro on Mulberry Street is finally pouring some heady Boh!

Is Someone Finally Moving Into the Old Charlotte Ronson Store?

Doing a little post-work snooping in my neighborhood last nite, I noticed some commotion coming out of the old Charlotte Ronson space on Mulberry Street

Almost a year after it unceremoniously closed looks like someone might be cleaning up for a possible new tenant.

To be continued....

Good Advice: Take EVERY Opportunity!

Last nite Mr G kept trying to cajole me out for our friend's birthday party. But with New York in the grip of a mean old 14 degree cloak of coldness +5, I resisted and resigned myself to an evening of fat pants and black cat belly rubs.

Mistake.

This morning

Mr G: You should have come out with us last nite. You'll never guess who joined us for karaoke.

Me: Oh you went to karaoke. Dang!

Mr G: Alek Wek!

Me: Wait ---- WHAT?!

And just like that I realized my puss out had resulted in a missed duet of  'Islands in the Stream' with the former Moschino, Issey Miyake and Clinique model.

Perhaps the lesson of 2012 is one I've learned before and now must bare to repeat: Don't say no to opportunities, you never know when a Sudanese supermodel might be involved. 

Today at Work

Since I was the only boy in midtown working yesterday, today is my Tuesday. 

To give my senses a little jolt, I made my desktop dinosaur into an homage of Viktor & Rolf

Watch out Mariacarla!

Date Movie: Spirits of the Dead

After weeks of holiday go, go, go, Mr G and I were due for a roommate nite in. What better excuse than leftover Christmas cookies and Jane Fonda?

More specifically Jane Fonda's wardrobe

After displaying his wife's ability to change and unchange in rapid succession in Barbarella, Roger Vadim once again takes full advantage of 60's peak Jane in this lush adaption of an Edgar Allen Poe tale, "Metzengerstein" (one of three. The other two directed by Fellini and Louis Malle)

(So Gaultier for Hermes, non?)

Man he loves to play Barbie with her. Makes you wonder what home life was like....

Mr G and I loved this mess with its inexplicable implied romance between Jane and a black horse that represents her dead lover (played by real life brother, Peter Fonda) she accidentally murdered when she burned his barn down after he spurned her advances.

Yup

(Don't fuck with Jane)

Haunted by beastly brotherly love, she rides the black stallion off into a firestorm upon completion of a commissioned tapestry bearing his likeness

And butt be out! 

This is just the inspiring love story one needs to start the new year, right. 

As for the other two tales of this triptych, Bardot is stunning as a brunette and a young Terrance Stamp reminds me of an ex of mine, but both are equally tedious without the fag bait of a killer wardrobe. Skip. 

New Years Resolutions are so Admiral

It's a new year and that means once again donning the guise of gumption. 

In doing so, I'm gonna lie and say I'll get up earlier to write more before work. 

This little vintage Admiral radio turned Ipod player is a sexy way to play along with the self-deception

This Etsy clever crafter converted this destined for the dump relic into a modern piece of sleek architecture for his

 "Boss Radios" store (there's other models available, although each is a one off, obviously)

And the clock still works! 

On with the farce! 

(Vintage clock radio turned Ipod player, $275, Boss Radio store at Etsy, 

http://www.etsy.com/listing/88945530/mp3-player-and-am-radio-made-from)

Good Advice: New Year Advice for the 1%

Scrawled on the wall of a West Village "dive bar" selling $9 Heineken. 

This place got major identity issues! 

Scene of the Time: New Years 2012

For New Year's, Mr Taurus and I celebrated with a quiet, intimate little affair at home. Bowls were scattered with symbols of luck in the new year: basil, oranges and peanuts

The table featured a light dusting of homemade confetti crafted from  Lancôme and Fendi ads from the December ELLE

My mother's thank you cards sent to us serves as impromptu seating cards

And we popped a bottle of champagne I'd saved from a styling gig to toast the successes of 2011 and the new triumphs ahead for 2012

Happy New Year!