the global recession and it's impact on Chanel (per NY Times article, 'In the Lap of Luxury, Paris Squirms', 1/14/09). I luv his fantastic bravado. He is a resolute dandy through and through (last paragraph of the article below.)
-----------
And for Mr. Lagerfeld, cutting back his own spending at Chanel is not part of his “new modesty” strategy. He said he is not being forced by the private company’s owners to bend or adapt because of financial constraints. “We have no budget, we do what we want and throwing money out the window brings money back in through the front door,” he said. “The bottom line is that I don’t deal with the bottom line. The luxury in my life is I never have to think about it.”
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Sartorial
The reasons why I've always been sartorial (and introspective while I emanate):
1) My grandmother: She was my grandfather's (on my mom's side) concubine #3 of 6. Old school. I don't know since I've never asked whether or not she was educated. But she always had a sense of class, decorum, style, wisedom, and real estate to be monetized. She was/is quite elegant. Not a cat on a hot tin roof or rouged. She reminds me of Queen Elizabeth. Very soft spoken, flawless complexion, classy, rive gauche. I remember that when I was 7, she told me, "We love you. No matter what, just become a good human being." I did't know what she meant then. But I know now... be yourself and treat others the way you want to be treated. The golden rule. How divine and classy is that?! Anway, when I was a kid, a toddler. She always bought me the best clothes. Always high level, jackets, pants, shirts, sweaters, and cardigans and always great colors. Blood red, sometimes Crimson, navy blue, royal blue, or Emperor yellow. I started to learn the noble colors and fit and it has stayed with me to this day (I hope) and I shall stick with it;
2) My girlfriend in college: Her dad was the head of the Asia Bank and she did alot of 'candy' :) (she was a great bad worldy influence) and was always dressed to kill (skirt, stockings (with garters), and heels (perfect ankles)). I had a 1.9 GPA that year and was put on academic probation that year. But after 3 yrs., caught up, and graduated on the Dean's list with 3.6 GPA. But no Phi Beta Kappa. Fck it. Who cares. Ended up doing M&A at Merril. Almost got Goldman. But that's another story). I was the concubine #1 in that relationship. She always (except maybe twice) came back home to me. She made me into her image. Brought me up to date. Bought me a ton of threads so that we would be the most impressive couple this side of the pond and we were;
3) Tom Dineen: My dearest friend. He got me into ascots (Turnbull & Asser of course) and single malt scotch when we got out of college and before he went to study at Oxford. He always had a tweed jacket on for every class and his vocabulary was/is second to none. There were no nuances left unbare. One of the most refined fellow and friend I know. We were roomates for a year and as he saw me blasting Depeche Mode watching TV, he said, "Fred! Why don't you put your brain to use and read a book!" That was supreme advise and I read everything from Emerson to Theosophy and the Occult (an ancient science that was not part of the curicculum at Columbia. It was an enforced additive to my education on top of Homer, Plato, Nietszche, Schopenhauer, Heidegger, etc. that I had (and had to) read in college.);
4) Peacock: I was watching a National Geographic segment on birds once (many several years ago) and saw a peacock. More specifically, a male peacock. The female peacocks had no color. Most of them were either white or grey. But the male peacocks were donned with the most precious colors (in order to attract the females.) Then I thought. Hey, these are just birds. Pretty low down in the food chain. I'm on top of the food chain! and I will not allow these birds out do me in the area of beauty. I decided to be evenmore elegant;
5) The Great Gatsby: I only saw the movie. Never read the book. For shame. But the movie enthralled me. Most specifically, when Daisy Buchanan visits Gatsby in his house (mansion) and goes to his bedroom and Gatsby opens up his armoire and starts displaying his shirts and starts throwing them up in the air until the entire bedroom was covered with his shirts. "My man in London, sends me the swatches every season." Then Daisy grabs one of the shirts in the air and starts to weep and says, "These are the most beautiful shirts that I have ever seen." All the colors of the rainbow and beyond. Sorbet. The very next day, I went to Ascot Chang's where Bush I got his shirts made. Got my self measured and put 7 shirts on order (with detacheable collars). My French blue, Egg yolk (Imperial Mandarin) yellow, salmon pink, mint green, eggshell white, etc. all arrived. But it was hard to find a shop that had collar studs. Went to Bergdorf, Barneys, Saks, Paul Stuart. None of them had a single collar stud. The only place that kept the ancient accessory was... J.Press. J.Press only had 4 locations: Cambridge (Harvard), New Haven (Yale), New York (Columbia), D.C. They skipped Princeton for some reason. I wish that they hadn't.
Anyway, to make the long story short (otherwise, I can pen an entire novella on the topic and bore people to tears), that's the abridged history of my sartorial influence. It's good to trace back the genealogy. It's comforting to know and write down how I got here and whence I derived my aesthetics. It's like a personal archaeological dig. Strata 1,2,3 etc. Move aside Indiana Jones :).
Now. I'm gonna do a little blurb on watches since I'm on the topic of sartorial. "A watch should not only tell time. But who you are." I saw this once in an ad in the British GQ and it stuck with me. My belief was/is as follows... watches per age range: in a gentleman's 20's- a Rolex (to kick things off); then in one's 30's- a Patek Phillipe (a proper marriage watch. The woman gets the 3 carat Tiffany's emerald cut and the gentleman in exchange gets the Patek. Not to mention, the mother of his offspring); 40s-- a Blancpain; 50s- a Vacheron; then 60 til grave- a Breguet.
Sartorial to the end. From cradle to grave. A gentleman.
[P.S. Clothes alone do not make the man (any asshole can buy a Brioni or a D&G :). It only gets him half way there. To be a gentleman, I believe, one must be a Caesar with a heart of Christ. In other words, money alone doest not make a gentleman. But style AND character... a divine native (or cultivated) constitution. Actually, it has alot to do with breeding and upbringing.]
1) My grandmother: She was my grandfather's (on my mom's side) concubine #3 of 6. Old school. I don't know since I've never asked whether or not she was educated. But she always had a sense of class, decorum, style, wisedom, and real estate to be monetized. She was/is quite elegant. Not a cat on a hot tin roof or rouged. She reminds me of Queen Elizabeth. Very soft spoken, flawless complexion, classy, rive gauche. I remember that when I was 7, she told me, "We love you. No matter what, just become a good human being." I did't know what she meant then. But I know now... be yourself and treat others the way you want to be treated. The golden rule. How divine and classy is that?! Anway, when I was a kid, a toddler. She always bought me the best clothes. Always high level, jackets, pants, shirts, sweaters, and cardigans and always great colors. Blood red, sometimes Crimson, navy blue, royal blue, or Emperor yellow. I started to learn the noble colors and fit and it has stayed with me to this day (I hope) and I shall stick with it;
2) My girlfriend in college: Her dad was the head of the Asia Bank and she did alot of 'candy' :) (she was a great bad worldy influence) and was always dressed to kill (skirt, stockings (with garters), and heels (perfect ankles)). I had a 1.9 GPA that year and was put on academic probation that year. But after 3 yrs., caught up, and graduated on the Dean's list with 3.6 GPA. But no Phi Beta Kappa. Fck it. Who cares. Ended up doing M&A at Merril. Almost got Goldman. But that's another story). I was the concubine #1 in that relationship. She always (except maybe twice) came back home to me. She made me into her image. Brought me up to date. Bought me a ton of threads so that we would be the most impressive couple this side of the pond and we were;
3) Tom Dineen: My dearest friend. He got me into ascots (Turnbull & Asser of course) and single malt scotch when we got out of college and before he went to study at Oxford. He always had a tweed jacket on for every class and his vocabulary was/is second to none. There were no nuances left unbare. One of the most refined fellow and friend I know. We were roomates for a year and as he saw me blasting Depeche Mode watching TV, he said, "Fred! Why don't you put your brain to use and read a book!" That was supreme advise and I read everything from Emerson to Theosophy and the Occult (an ancient science that was not part of the curicculum at Columbia. It was an enforced additive to my education on top of Homer, Plato, Nietszche, Schopenhauer, Heidegger, etc. that I had (and had to) read in college.);
4) Peacock: I was watching a National Geographic segment on birds once (many several years ago) and saw a peacock. More specifically, a male peacock. The female peacocks had no color. Most of them were either white or grey. But the male peacocks were donned with the most precious colors (in order to attract the females.) Then I thought. Hey, these are just birds. Pretty low down in the food chain. I'm on top of the food chain! and I will not allow these birds out do me in the area of beauty. I decided to be evenmore elegant;
5) The Great Gatsby: I only saw the movie. Never read the book. For shame. But the movie enthralled me. Most specifically, when Daisy Buchanan visits Gatsby in his house (mansion) and goes to his bedroom and Gatsby opens up his armoire and starts displaying his shirts and starts throwing them up in the air until the entire bedroom was covered with his shirts. "My man in London, sends me the swatches every season." Then Daisy grabs one of the shirts in the air and starts to weep and says, "These are the most beautiful shirts that I have ever seen." All the colors of the rainbow and beyond. Sorbet. The very next day, I went to Ascot Chang's where Bush I got his shirts made. Got my self measured and put 7 shirts on order (with detacheable collars). My French blue, Egg yolk (Imperial Mandarin) yellow, salmon pink, mint green, eggshell white, etc. all arrived. But it was hard to find a shop that had collar studs. Went to Bergdorf, Barneys, Saks, Paul Stuart. None of them had a single collar stud. The only place that kept the ancient accessory was... J.Press. J.Press only had 4 locations: Cambridge (Harvard), New Haven (Yale), New York (Columbia), D.C. They skipped Princeton for some reason. I wish that they hadn't.
Anyway, to make the long story short (otherwise, I can pen an entire novella on the topic and bore people to tears), that's the abridged history of my sartorial influence. It's good to trace back the genealogy. It's comforting to know and write down how I got here and whence I derived my aesthetics. It's like a personal archaeological dig. Strata 1,2,3 etc. Move aside Indiana Jones :).
Now. I'm gonna do a little blurb on watches since I'm on the topic of sartorial. "A watch should not only tell time. But who you are." I saw this once in an ad in the British GQ and it stuck with me. My belief was/is as follows... watches per age range: in a gentleman's 20's- a Rolex (to kick things off); then in one's 30's- a Patek Phillipe (a proper marriage watch. The woman gets the 3 carat Tiffany's emerald cut and the gentleman in exchange gets the Patek. Not to mention, the mother of his offspring); 40s-- a Blancpain; 50s- a Vacheron; then 60 til grave- a Breguet.
Sartorial to the end. From cradle to grave. A gentleman.
[P.S. Clothes alone do not make the man (any asshole can buy a Brioni or a D&G :). It only gets him half way there. To be a gentleman, I believe, one must be a Caesar with a heart of Christ. In other words, money alone doest not make a gentleman. But style AND character... a divine native (or cultivated) constitution. Actually, it has alot to do with breeding and upbringing.]
Monday, January 12, 2009
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
NorthFace Facebook Pumas
A decent Winter jacket brand, a popular social site, great sneakers. Everyone has one or is on one though. So why would I ever want to own one of these or be on one of these like everyone? Why would I ever want to be everyone? I have never been and will never be everyone. I can't and won't do it. By definition, and in effect then, I am an iconoclast, and resolutely, me. Oh, silly ME :).
[I'm not a Luddite though. I do have a cellphone and I blog.]
[I'm not a Luddite though. I do have a cellphone and I blog.]
Dressing Up
I really don't get people who don't dress up when they go out. I'm talking, for the gentleman, a jacket and trousers, and for women, dress and heels (Yes. Even in the dead of Winter. Get an overcoat that falls to the shin! Unless there is a blizzard. At which point, tights and boots shall suffice. And gentlemen, under these conditions you MUST hail a cab while she is indoors. So that the lady is never under the harsh elements for more than 5 seconds. She is precious from head to toe.) Is that too much to ask for? All that I see most of the times are t-shirt, a hoodie, and jeans jeans jeans.
Now, I must admit that often times I wear jeans too. They look fine and are quite rugged and comfortable. And alot more now than ever before, I've accepted women wearing jeans if they have a nice figure. But all of this aside, why do the vast majority of the people dress so down and shabby?!
To me, dressing up shows creativity, style, and individuality and often one's socioeconomic status. It's a signaling mechanism that tells people what tribe you are from and with.
On a practical level, it also widnens one's choice of venues as well. You dress like crap, you will end up sauntering in crappy joints. The tough doors will never allow you in unless you are a model. Well, what's so great about those tough doors? They're pretentious! Well, what's wrong with tough doors? They often (not always) filter out the loud amateurs and that's a pleasant thing.
I love dive bars much as the next guy or gal and one can go dressed as one pleases. T-shirt and jeans. Fine. Whatever.
But if you get bored of the dive bar and the mediocre bar and the mediocre lounge/club. It sure is nice to have the option and the possibility to move upstream to a higher level, less common, less mediocre places.
So, in general, I like to be with people who dress up to go out whenever we go out. Because then the sky's the limit and choices abound. It's like being able to play the entire orchestra from percussion to wind to strings vs. being stuck in one section of the orchestra.
[Live chromatically not monotone.]
Btw, when I go out, I'm dressed up 99% of the time (jacket, trousers, chelsea boots, and sometimes ascots), not only for the practical reasons aforementioned. But I feel that I owe it to myself to treat myself with the highest respect with my god given gift of taste and style and to look presentable to others, and most importantly, to myself.
Also, because most people dress like shit, I feel that I have no choice but to not join in on that zombiehood. I will remain civilized, cognizant, human, individual and vital and fight off the 'free-range humans' (as Hannibal Lechter so correctly described most people) every step of my life. Sometimes, i wish I were a cannibal. So I can eat them as Hannibal did... free range humans in their shirt and jeans.
Now, I must admit that often times I wear jeans too. They look fine and are quite rugged and comfortable. And alot more now than ever before, I've accepted women wearing jeans if they have a nice figure. But all of this aside, why do the vast majority of the people dress so down and shabby?!
To me, dressing up shows creativity, style, and individuality and often one's socioeconomic status. It's a signaling mechanism that tells people what tribe you are from and with.
On a practical level, it also widnens one's choice of venues as well. You dress like crap, you will end up sauntering in crappy joints. The tough doors will never allow you in unless you are a model. Well, what's so great about those tough doors? They're pretentious! Well, what's wrong with tough doors? They often (not always) filter out the loud amateurs and that's a pleasant thing.
I love dive bars much as the next guy or gal and one can go dressed as one pleases. T-shirt and jeans. Fine. Whatever.
But if you get bored of the dive bar and the mediocre bar and the mediocre lounge/club. It sure is nice to have the option and the possibility to move upstream to a higher level, less common, less mediocre places.
So, in general, I like to be with people who dress up to go out whenever we go out. Because then the sky's the limit and choices abound. It's like being able to play the entire orchestra from percussion to wind to strings vs. being stuck in one section of the orchestra.
[Live chromatically not monotone.]
Btw, when I go out, I'm dressed up 99% of the time (jacket, trousers, chelsea boots, and sometimes ascots), not only for the practical reasons aforementioned. But I feel that I owe it to myself to treat myself with the highest respect with my god given gift of taste and style and to look presentable to others, and most importantly, to myself.
Also, because most people dress like shit, I feel that I have no choice but to not join in on that zombiehood. I will remain civilized, cognizant, human, individual and vital and fight off the 'free-range humans' (as Hannibal Lechter so correctly described most people) every step of my life. Sometimes, i wish I were a cannibal. So I can eat them as Hannibal did... free range humans in their shirt and jeans.
Sunday, January 4, 2009
Music Appreciation
That's what the class was called at my alma mater. At Columbia, all Freshmen had to take the 'Core Curriculum.' It was composed of 2 semesters of Literature Humanities (from Homer's Illiad to Doestoevsky's Brothers Karazmov), 2 semesters of Contemporary Civilization (from Plato's Republic to Sartre's Existenstialism), 1 semester of Art History (from cave paintings and Palenque to Warhol), and 1 semester of Music Appreciation (from Gregorian chants to Weber). It was the best education that anyone could ask for or prescribe. The scales fell off my eyes and I became a civilized human being. Thank you Columbia! The football team never won a single game while I was there for 4 yrs. (Except the last homecoming game against Princeton. Thank you Princeton!). The quality of education was second to none. The only schools that were harder to get into than Columbia back then was Harvard, Yale, Princeton, Stanford, and CalTech. [Damn. If the SAT weren't so fckn early in the morning. 9am for a 3 hr. test. Come on. That's farmer Bob hours! My mother had to drag me out of my bed that morning too as she did for all of my teen years. "Mom, just 2 more minutes. I'm getting up!"] Now, only Harvard, Princeton, and CalTech are more 'selective.' None of them had or have the 'Core.' They're softcore porn :).
Anyway, this morning, for some insane reason and twist of soul, I woke up craving for some classical music. Mozart's Requiem came to mind and I played it on my iTunes, speakers full blast.. Lacrimosa. Shamefully, Mozart was the only classical music that I had on my iTunes. I ripped it from a CD that I had a few years ago. All of my classical music were bought on CDs and they are in storage now (about 30 CDs). It's a shame. Because from time to time, the only music that can placate my soul is classical music. It fortifies me and makes me feel civilized again.
Music appreciation was a 8:30am class. Every Tuesday and Thursday from 8:30am to 9:50am. It was divine. I looked forward to going to that class eventhough it was so early in the morning. I would walk in there with my notebook (back then notebook computers weren't invented yet :()) and I would plop it down on the desk and close my eyes. Students slowly started droning into class while the music was piping through the small classroom with a east-facing window as the sun broke in. We had a great professor. I lucked out. He never made us memorize dates and we never had a test or essays, just 3 quizzes. The key to getting an 'A' in that class was showing real appreciation for the music... meaning.. sincerely kissing the professor's ass. He was a great guy. I got an 'A'. Mostly because, I really did appreciate the music.
So, this morning, after I listened to my Mozart, I went onto the iTunes store and started digging for more classical music to download on my iTunes. To my satisfaction, all of my classical music inventory in my mind came back to me. I was thinking and browsing, Strauss, Schumann, Lizst, Bartok, Ravel, Debussy, Beethoven, Chopin, Schoenberg, Bach, Grieg, Barber, Holst, etc. etc.
I'm so glad that I was and am educated in the Humanities and my loving parents foot the whole bill. Back then it was appx. $38K a year. Now it's appx. $58K a year. Wowaweeewa. Sex explosion :()!
You know... when I hear nowadays about how America needs to have more math and science in schools, I roll my eyes. Fine. Do it. But the Indians and the Chinese out number us and those drones will always outnumber us in that area. Sure, do it. Why not. But for me, I think that our strength is in creativity. Think Apple. We need the worker ants... the engineering nerds to put the circuits together and do the plumbing. But at the end of the day, what wins is the humanities... our humanity stamped on the circuits. The rest of the world will catch up (most have already) and surpass on tech things. But who can surpass us in music, movies, love, and freedom?! (except the Italians, the Spaniards, and maybe, the French.) The real stuff that life is made of and the stuff that people all over the world aspire to.
I hate to say it because it sounds so American. But America is the greatest nation on earth. That's why so many outsiders come here to live and/or visit. We're not perfect by any means. (e.g. I think that the Americans work too hard and too many of them think only of money, position, and status). But compared to rest of the world, this is where it all happens and can happen.
Btw, when I say 'America,' I mean Manhattan. It's ridiculous. But I really can't imagine people in America living outside of Manhattan or San Fran (maybe L.A.). Note: New Jersey is NOT America. They're outsiders to me as well. So loud and dumb.
Back to the iTunes store :).
Anyway, this morning, for some insane reason and twist of soul, I woke up craving for some classical music. Mozart's Requiem came to mind and I played it on my iTunes, speakers full blast.. Lacrimosa. Shamefully, Mozart was the only classical music that I had on my iTunes. I ripped it from a CD that I had a few years ago. All of my classical music were bought on CDs and they are in storage now (about 30 CDs). It's a shame. Because from time to time, the only music that can placate my soul is classical music. It fortifies me and makes me feel civilized again.
Music appreciation was a 8:30am class. Every Tuesday and Thursday from 8:30am to 9:50am. It was divine. I looked forward to going to that class eventhough it was so early in the morning. I would walk in there with my notebook (back then notebook computers weren't invented yet :()) and I would plop it down on the desk and close my eyes. Students slowly started droning into class while the music was piping through the small classroom with a east-facing window as the sun broke in. We had a great professor. I lucked out. He never made us memorize dates and we never had a test or essays, just 3 quizzes. The key to getting an 'A' in that class was showing real appreciation for the music... meaning.. sincerely kissing the professor's ass. He was a great guy. I got an 'A'. Mostly because, I really did appreciate the music.
So, this morning, after I listened to my Mozart, I went onto the iTunes store and started digging for more classical music to download on my iTunes. To my satisfaction, all of my classical music inventory in my mind came back to me. I was thinking and browsing, Strauss, Schumann, Lizst, Bartok, Ravel, Debussy, Beethoven, Chopin, Schoenberg, Bach, Grieg, Barber, Holst, etc. etc.
I'm so glad that I was and am educated in the Humanities and my loving parents foot the whole bill. Back then it was appx. $38K a year. Now it's appx. $58K a year. Wowaweeewa. Sex explosion :()!
You know... when I hear nowadays about how America needs to have more math and science in schools, I roll my eyes. Fine. Do it. But the Indians and the Chinese out number us and those drones will always outnumber us in that area. Sure, do it. Why not. But for me, I think that our strength is in creativity. Think Apple. We need the worker ants... the engineering nerds to put the circuits together and do the plumbing. But at the end of the day, what wins is the humanities... our humanity stamped on the circuits. The rest of the world will catch up (most have already) and surpass on tech things. But who can surpass us in music, movies, love, and freedom?! (except the Italians, the Spaniards, and maybe, the French.) The real stuff that life is made of and the stuff that people all over the world aspire to.
I hate to say it because it sounds so American. But America is the greatest nation on earth. That's why so many outsiders come here to live and/or visit. We're not perfect by any means. (e.g. I think that the Americans work too hard and too many of them think only of money, position, and status). But compared to rest of the world, this is where it all happens and can happen.
Btw, when I say 'America,' I mean Manhattan. It's ridiculous. But I really can't imagine people in America living outside of Manhattan or San Fran (maybe L.A.). Note: New Jersey is NOT America. They're outsiders to me as well. So loud and dumb.
Back to the iTunes store :).
Thursday, January 1, 2009
12:30PM
Got home at 12:30 this afternoon. I guess I must have had an OK NYE afterall :).
That's the interesting thing about Manhattan. If you have lived here long enough, there's no need to plan. Things either happen or don't.
Happy 2009 to all of my lovelies. It will be a great year!
That's the interesting thing about Manhattan. If you have lived here long enough, there's no need to plan. Things either happen or don't.
Happy 2009 to all of my lovelies. It will be a great year!
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