LES sans snark

I moved to the lower east side. Heavens knows I can afforded to live in a luxury apartment anywhere excepting Fifth Avenue or somewhere truly posh, but it turns out I'd rather buy a few new suits, a decent umbrella, Dior Homme sunglasses and still have money left over after the summer. As such, I parked myself in a cheap apartment in a trendy area where I hope to indulge in insufferably trendy dive bars, trendy coffee and tea and meet trendy people. The roommate goes to journalism school at decidedly elite institution (to which I was accepted but somehow never found the time to attend); we get along quite well. Choosing roommates is a wee bit of drama these days. I had anticipated living with some law students also doing "internships" in the city but I should have realized that any second year law student who speaks of "having" an "internship" as opposed to "being" a "summer (associate) at [some big firm]" would not really be, shall we say, of my ilk. Yeah, that didn't work out so well.

What I'm really looking forward to is a long walk about town during which I'll take a bunch of photos and then do a few shots with one of the local alcoholic beverage licensees.

Work starts in a week.

tags technorati : Fashion Neighborhood Roommate Summer

shop-person encounter #1 (presumptious and depressing)

I really don't like buying from middle age shop-folks. They don't know how to relate to young, cash-laden intelli-brats. For example, I was in Nordstrom and this obnoxious lady, who shall remain nameless, followed me around the store as I did my best to ignore her. I recall saying something about shopping for my dad and I suspect I may have motioned for her to hold something while I snickered into my cell phone about an "upcoming purchase." The over-bleached 40-something blonde, who'd clearly saved up her pennies for a bad face lift, had the nerve to hand me her business card after ringing up my purchase and said she hoped I enjoyed the jeans and that they'd look good when I went out later. She didn't even offer me a gift receipt. Now, how many skinny, fashionable boys do you know who wear relaxed-fit Zegna jeans in size 34? Do I look like I try to impress women by playing Michael Bolton in my new Buick Lucerne? ("Beyond precision, not beyond your reach.") A week later, she sent me a "just because" note...with another business card. Desperate. I just don't think we'll be able to have a retail-based relationship. Just because I overspent on a given day doesn't mean that I'm going to seek out your services, especially when it's so obvious that you'd put me in jeans that would suit my dad but are big enough to make me look like a vastly over-subsidized hog farmer. Well, I guess I should forgive her for assuming that grad students don't shop for their parents every once in a while. Hey, my dad lets me drive his land yatch when he visits and bought me a suit that reads "The Future of the American Legal System" at fifty paces; the least I can do is pick him up a pair of quality jeans every so often.

addendum sequitur:
I think we'll make this #1 of a series. It will probably see updates with somewhat greater frequency than our Physiognomy series...if only because the law school is closer to the shopping center than the county courthouse. I suspect it won't be as entertaining; I've yet to see someone dragged kicking and screaming from Polo or a lawyer stuffing a Ferragamo in his mouth at Neiman’s. Yea, harken unto my words: We'll be back in the courtroom soon enough.

Insouciant highlights

Apart from the exchange recounted below, the highlight of the past 24 hours was the arrival of my bluefly shipment. There's a perpetual urge to dress like we make $2500-a-week, when we're actually living off student loans. That's why it's particularly good to get that $1500 pile of designer stuff (Miu Miu, Gucci and Zegna) for $600. It turns out that Gucci is a really, really bad brand for dress shirts. Don't get me wrong, I love the ties and the briefcases...not so much the shoes...but the dress shirts are just plain shitty. For christ's sake, I get paid to look like I know something. People who wear shitty shirts clearly don't make enough money to have a job that requires them to know anything (excepting, of course, jobs requiring the miraculous minutia known only to the medical professions). What's worse is that Bluefly prices Zegna shirts somewhat lower than their Gucci counterparts although the retail is higher. Verily, I cannot understand how folks can be so infatuated with this "brand" that doesn't have Tom Ford anymore.

addendum non sequitur
Hmm...I wonder if it's unethical to send a Photoshop-ed picture for the Firm's summer facebook; I wouldn't want people to contrast the picture with the results of the rhinoplasty I have scheduled for before I start full-time.