Men's Cologne and Other Disasters

One of many fragrance counters at Nordstrom.

Last Christmas, I was at Nordstrom, standing in line to purchase a pair of driving gloves (I admit, they were for me.  Charity starts at home.) and while I waited my turn, I watched as a casual inquiry at the men's fragrance counter degenerated into a desperate transaction between buyer and salesperson.  From the look of it, an IRS audit would have been a more pleasant and beneficial experience.

From what I could infer, and I love to infer, a woman had stopped in to pick up something for her brother/father/grandfather (I'm assuming it was for a family member.  Usually, if it's for a boyfriend or husband, the decision on just how they should smell is rarely put to debate.) and things were not going well.  The woman was dumbstruck by variety and the salesman was being less than helpful by squirting strips of paper and passing them off to her like some sideshow card trick.  If he pulled a rabbit out of his pants I wouldn't have been surprised.  He did have a ponytail, after all. You know how ponytailed men are. 

Joan Crawford hawks 'Summer Rain' perfume to
Rosalind Russell in MGM's 1939 hit  The Woman.

The mushroom cloud of Dolce & Gabbana, Lacoste and Armani generated by the eager man with the trigger finger soon made its way to me and I found myself somewhere between a contact high and a migraine.  The pile of scented paper grew as he wove between the displays and I assume he had sptrized every sample they had on the floor, and possibly dipped into the bathroom air freshener, yet still our young heroine had made no headway in whether to buy Ralph Lauren Black or Guilty by Gucci.  I yearned to intervene, and tell her to just buy something by Burberry because you can't go wrong with Burberry, but I was unwilling to sacrifice my spot in line and I didn't want to interrupt.  Out of desperation, she eventually purchased a gift set the salesman was pushing and left. 

This is just here for Reference.  This is the
Perfume Hall at the old Bullock's Wilshire.
Look at all that floor space!  You can actually
walk in a straight line!

As a general rule, I never buy fragrance for others.  Scent is one of the most personal aspects of our identity, so unless I have a direct request to drag home a 5 piece gift set of Viva La Juicy, I'm not going to consider buying anyone anything that smells.  My primary reason for this is body chemistry; everyone is different, so just because it smells good in the bottle or on the salesgirl, it doesn't mean it will smell good on your loved one.  There's also allergies to consider, as well as personal taste; I have a good friend who just flat out doesn't like perfume, and on the flip side of the coin, I have a box on my Bathroom vanity that is crammed with cologne, because I love scent and how it can shape or reflect you mood.  So, maybe save yourself a headache and heartbreak and opt for a nice gift card.

Should you opt to go against my advice and insist on buying fragrance even though i told you not to, here's how to avoid the pitfalls.  Don't go in blind; know what your giftee already wears.  Steal the bottle or spray some on a card and bring it in with you.  Either buy more of the same (they can always return it or add it to the stockpile) or if you're feeling frisky, ask the salesperson what is similar to it and they should be able to find something along the same lines.  If even that fails you, then just ask the salesperson what is popular and safe and buy what smells the most conservative.  Gift giving should be a pleasure, not a terrifying experience or a Sisyphean task that will make you take up smoking again.

-Ian

Flying My Freak Flag - The Introduction to Mrs. Kennedy.

It's now official.  I am 'that guy'.  I'm 'that guy' who sings along to whatever is on his ipod with no concern for his dignity.  At the gym.  On an elliptical. 

I will say, in my defense, that I only lip sync, and head and arm movements in the style of Beyonce, Usher, or any other artist I choose to goof to, male or female, are limited to times when there is no one around me or when I am at the back of the room and no one can see me directly.  But, the fact of the matter is, I am 'that guy', and there is Security footage to prove it.

You could say I have a freak flag that I am not afraid to fly.  I was once, sadly, without one.  When I was younger, I used to be almost paralyzed with thoughts of what someone would think of me if I did something I thought was out of sync with the collective societies approval.  Oh the embarrassment of being dropped off at the mall by my Dad in his big yellow Chevrolet that sounded like a wheat thrasher! (but then you realize how lucky you are to have a ride at all).  Oh the humanity of not getting those shoes that everyone has! (how lucky I was to even get new shoes at all). There comes a point in your life where you stop caring so much about what people you don't know think about you, you get out of your own way, and you start focusing on more important things that make you happy.  Given that I can hold my own with a rousing renditions of 'Single Ladies' and '9 to 5', I'd say I'm obviously at that point.
 

President and Mrs. Kennedy, with guests, at the first State
Dinner they hosted.

Over the course of my career as a Designer and an Educator, I have stumbled upon some amazing personalities; true icons of style.  People who have done nothing but fly their freak flags high and proud, and it's their brazen individuality and flagrant nose-thumbing that has cemented their positions in history.  Because I love trivia and people of style, chiming in with random bits of information that will hopefully inspire you to be nothing but who you are seems like a good idea. 

So, for our first jaunt into quirky and stylish history, we have a bite sized morsel about Jackie Kennedy.  The epitome of style and culture during the 1960's and throughout her life, Jackie was not without her sly twists.  During her relatively short time as First Lady, she hosted quite a few State Dinners.  Beautiful antique china and crystal was used, and of course delicious meals were served.  But Jackie wanted to keep the magic of the evening exclusive to the White House.  When a guest requested a specific recipe that was served that night, Mrs. Kennedy obliged graciously as any good hostess would, but not before tweaking the ingredient list just enough to make the dish fall flat when the guest tried to make it for themselves!  She'd increase the salt or or onion or remove an ingredient entirely, keeping the magic of the meal wrapped tightly in White House mystique.

- Ian

Jackie photographed during her 1962 televised tour of the newly refurbished
Executive mansion.  Mrs. Kennedy did an incredible service to the home
by restoring its historic interiors.



Just because I love this photo.  Jackie the socialite
before a beautiful Japanese screen in the 1950's.



Little Gifts

OK kids, I'm not going to sugar coat this; sometimes life can hand you a big steaming pile of crap.  No.  Wait.  Sometimes life can shoot a big steaming pile of crap at you, out of a canon, when you're wearing dry clean only clothes, and suede shoes you paid retail for.  Life can be a bitch.  No matter how much you try to see the sun through a clouds, it's still raining and your umbrella just turned inside out.  It's easy to get down in the mouth; it's easy to want a life other than your own because the universe just isn't cooperating.  No matter how wonderfully simple it is to let yourself think like that, don't do it.   



 Instead of allowing yourself to grow content with discontent, think about the good things in your life.  The things that are easily forgotten and utterly common, but for a moment, or a day, make you smile; the Sunday comics and the way they've smelled the same since you were a kid, the dog that loves going with you to Starbucks on a Spring evening, the phone call from a friend you haven't spoken with in ages.  Welcome opportunities to be happy; be aware of the little gifts that are there for the taking if you allow yourself to see them.  Live in those small moments and make them just as significant as those unpleasant times we all tend to let rule our days.

Case in point; when I was in Pasadena with Alma (See my earlier post on The Folk Tree for more) we pulled into the Vroman's parking lot, wanting nothing more than a pleasant visit to a favorite shop to round out or day, when we were overcome with delight at what lay before us: an Ice Cream Truck giving away Ice Cream.  Ice Cream.  For free.  For us.  Just because.       

Firefox, the web browser, partnered with the ultra hip, ultra good, Coolhaus and their Ice Cream Truck to sponsor a PR/Community outreach event.  They were travelling around the LA area promoting the brand and giving away Ice Cream Sandwiches as a symbol of good will.  As it happened, that day was the day to be in Pasadena behind Vroman's.  It was a little gift, just for us.


The Hipster ice cream man and a party of two.

 Kids, parents, students all waited patiently in line to order their treats.  A man in a knit cap took their orders at the window as arms passed out the finished product through the rear door with the call of a name.  Wrapped in a ribbon of edible paper, two soft baked cookies held in place gourmet ice cream in flavors like Horchata, Dirty Mint Chip and Blood Orange Sorbet.

Firefox was even there for photo op's, or rather, a guy dressed up like Firefox was there.  Of course I fell victim to the thrill of having my photo taken with an anthropomorphic fox in a parking lot behind a bookstore on a Saturday afternoon in Pasadena.  Who wouldn't?!

Le Menu.  Special varieties for the Firefox promotion.

I had the Awesome Bar, Alma the Beta.

It's things like this that make life a little better.  We're all so serious, our days filled with endless phone calls to people we don't want to talk to, our nights nothing more than an all too brief respite from paid monotony.  We intentionally strap on blinders that allow us only to see the unpleasant situations we have to face.  Will there ever be anything else?  Any relief?  Any alternative?  Yes, but we have to create the opportunity, we must be the catalyst in our own lives.  We prevent ourselves from seeing what else is out there.  I'm not saying we should deny responsibility or dedicate ourselves to avoidance techniques, but there's a lot more going on in this world that just spirit crushing drudgery, and it's OK to be happy.

Maybe we should treat every day like it's Saturday.  On Saturday, the world is yours.  You're free to live.  Good things just seem to happen on Saturdays.  Fun happens on Saturdays.  People smile and the weather is always perfect, whether it's pouring rain or hotter than hell, it's perfect beause it's Saturday.  Try to imagine a week of Saturdays, exude Saturday's spirit and charms, see what happens.  Look for opportunities in your war-torn day to smile, to make someone else smile, to make a memory.  Your day will go faster, you'll feel better, and you just may find an Ice Cream truck in your parking lot.
- Ian

PS - For those in the Westside, rejoice.  Coohaus is slated to open a brick and mortar Ice Cream Shop in Culver City very soon.  For more info, click here.




The google-y eyed Firefox stares
back at you from the wrapper.
It's just the right amount of
branding and adorability.

 

Dirty Mint Chip ice cream with Fudge Cookies. 
The addition of sea salt as a garnish
cut the sweetness and emphasized the
Minty flavor of the ice cream.





One of the arms, embellished.










Don't say 'Broke', c'est 'Casse'

Irony with a witty hint of copyright infringement.
Chutzpah is 9/10 of the Law.

 Friends, there has never been a more opportune time to be short of funds.  It's as if the stars have aligned and spread the lack of wealth to people near and far, unifying us all under a new umbrella of devastating desirability.  How passe are the weekends in San Tropez, expensive cars, and celebrity chefs.  It's much more au currant to have a staycation, a bike ride through the canals of Venice (CA, not IT) and lunch from a Food Truck.  

It's almost laughable to even think about having money in the bank, because who's does that anymore?  Everyone who's anyone is getting rid of theirs; streamlining their assets.  How gauche to just keep money laying around...it's so common, and slightly rude.  Nowadays, it's really quite chic to to live hand to mouth (or as I like to call it, main au bouche.  Everything sounds better in French).  At the risk of being terribly cliche, Broke is the new Black.


I know not everyone shares my sentiments...there will always be Philistines in the Temple of J'adore.  But for those of us who seek to make the best of our situation, I say, do it as only you can.  Style, personality, and finesse transcend all budgets.  Instinct and exquisite wit will be your currency.  No exchanges or refund.  The Nouveau Pauvre have spoken.   





Bread and cheese has been the go to food for the
impoverished for centuries.  Take it uptown with
Artisan fromage and Pain Rustique.

Economizing danse la maison is remarkably easy and so very in.  For starters, entertain at home.  Dig out that One Dish Meal cookbook you never open, along with that Crock Pot you never thought you'd use.  Guests will be delighted at your ingenuity and ironic sense of humor.  Slow-cooked haute cuisine on melamine will be the talk of the farmers market.  And imagine the fun of a grilled cheese dinner party given on the patio with soda from glass bottles and whoopie pies for dessert.  Comfort food is the new Mr. Chow. 

If you're strapped for cash you'll find yourself growing surprisingly svelte as you pass up meals in order to afford putting gas in your car.  Take this opportunity to re-imagine your suddenly well fitting wardrobe.  Develop a 'signature style'.  People won't think you're wearing the same thing over and over out of necessity or ennui, but out of a personal commitment to higher common sense.  You will recruit devotees with this mindset and become the leader you always knew you could be. Mix colors and patterns in ways you never would have before.  Optimism is bold and daring.  You will incite envy and rage in your adversaries. 

Less is more, so live accordingly.  Liberate your home from the superfluous, useless, and tacky.  A cluttered home is a cluttered mind.  How can you live to your full potential if you can't see your closet floor?  As William Morris preached, surround yourself only with the useful and beautiful, and sell the rest on eBay (that part is mine).  You'd be amazed what people in Middle America will buy.

Above all, live you life fully, honestly, and beautifully.  Style and substance are free; you can buy everything else (then take it back the next day).

- Ian    

The Page Turner

"If you go out with somebody, and you go back to their place when the date's over and they don't have any books anywhere, whatever you do, don't f*** 'em!  Get out.  If you aren't goose-stepping over books and magazines, there's something wrong with that person."



Inquisitive mind mandatory, Ladder optional.



Ages ago, I saw John Waters, 'in concert', if you will, at Royce Hall.  It was his one man show that comes around far too seldom, in my opinion.  He covered a multitude of topics, from the gleefully perverse & strange to the underhandedly profound.

Dressed in a smoking jacket with his trademark pencil thin mustache he took his all too willing audience on a whirlwind tour through the workings of his Baltimorian mind.  The quote above (cobbled together from a foggy memory) is one of the lessons I took with me. 

You'll all be glad to know that I only associate with the Literati.  My friends and lovers are all terribly literate, though sometimes I question their level of commitment when I learn they have been reading the Kite Runner for 4 years and it's still the first time through.  But that aside, I think Waters' is on to something.



Books are reflections of their owners.  Look at a persons private library and you instantly know who you're dealing with in no uncertain terms.  It's the new medicine cabinet, waiting to be rummaged through; except instead of Amphetamines and horse tranquilizers, it's the Self Help for OCD and Snooki's best seller. 

I think the glasses help sell the package, don't you? 

I use the word 'library' loosely, by the way.  Some are fortunate enough to have a room dedicated to literature, others do just as well with something screwed together with an Allen Wrench.  Nevertheless, the library reveals all; hobbies, psychosis', fetishes...books have a way of speaking on their own, whether we like it or not. 



By contrast, I have noticed that the coffee table receives the things you want people to know on a purely superficial level.  A book on Renaissance Venice, Chateau of the Loire Valley, Gardens of Tuscany; aesthetic but not terribly informative, or incriminating.  Where's the fun in that?  Never judge a person by their coffee table, people.  Coffee tables are smokescreens.  Judge people by the contents of what's under their beds and in their glove compartments. 

Barring the possibility of complete illiteracy, a person without books is one without personality, depth, and wit.  If there isn't a pile of controlled chaos on the night stand or even, dare I say it, in the bathroom, then there is most definitely a problem, and you should probably make your exit.  Create your own excuse...Amoebic Dysentary is always a good one. 

- Ian

       

The Lovers, The Dreamers, and Me

I don't think I need to tell you this, but there has been a lot of awful going on in our world lately...Earthquakes, Floods, Dictators, Sisterwives.  All of it unexpected, all of it shocking, all of it leaving us bewildered.  I have heard some say that this is (insert your chosen deity, political, or spiritual leaders name here)'s way of telling us we have gone too far, a way of reprimanding us for our misdeeds.  I'm sure that if the Westboro Baptist Church had more time in their busy schedule, they'd probably fly over and picket Japan just for the sadistic pleasure they derive from making people in dire situations feel worse.  But what if these people are wrong, or if not wrong, what if they are seeing only one side of the coin? 

Undoubtedly this is a wake-up call for all of us on many levels, but for those who seek opportunities to stir fear and doubt, there should be just as many of us who see this as an opportunity to heal.  These unfortunate events are staggering, but what if they were put here not as a punishment, but as a way for us to find our way back to each other?  Our worlds headcount has grown exponentially, yet we seem to grow more distant with the passing of time.  How many times do we not smile to a passer-by on the street, or not hold the elevator door an extra second 'just in case', or not say "bless you" when someone sneezes?  Blame whatever cancer on society you want (the internet, tv, the Kardashians), the bottom line is, we have made ourselves disaffected, isolated, and unaware of what is outside our individualized little lives.  I think these events are here to remind us of our humanity, our charity, our grace, and that the world we share isn't so big after all. 

Love your Brother, love your Sister, and keep hope alive for those who need it most. 

I promise I'll try and do the same.

- Ian

Kermit had it right all along.