Leandra Medine's Blog, page 663

Trademark, Frame Denim and Rachel Comey: Let the One Sentence Reviews Begin!

Frame Denim, first presentation of the Fall 2015 season, set the seventies standard and confirmed exactly what everyone’s been predicting since the decade of groove started quietly pushing the 90s out of our mind: that flares are unavoidable, corduroys are imminent, suede will Always $trive And Prosper, and that there is absolutely nothing wrong (in fact, there’s everything spectacular) with a denim jumpsuit zipped right off of one of Charlie’s Angels.

If you’re thinking about Marcia Brady but respect Jan’s unflinching sense of self while appreciating how well their brother Greg navigates a crotch zipper on corduroy flared slacks, then Trademark — with its wide collars, sharp coats and largely-neutral color scheme which incorporates Tootsie Roll orange and navy pops — will suffice your craving while offering a solution to exactly the tailored, modern version of 1970s sportswear that up until now just felt too literal.

Right in line with the magic of her Pre Fall collection, Rachel Comey showed us that amid the shearling and fringe-y sweaters, when it comes to denim she really is queen; in the mix were wide leg jeans, cropped, flared and tightly tailored bell bottoms evoking a 1970’s girl who maintained a modernity of the 00’s.

Are you beginning to sense a theme?

— Written by Leandra, Amelia and Charlotte

The Rules of Style by Marcia Brady

Important question: Did Hedi Slimane and Nicolas Ghesquière have Marcia Brady in mind when they set out to produce their equally retro though decidedly disparate takes on the 1970s for the imminent Spring/Summer season?

The semblance to the latter Vuitton is particularly striking, but the thematically-charged 70s salute is salient for both brands.

The most recent influx of 70s-inspired wears (not even a day into New York Fashion Week and Trademark, Frame Denim and Hellessy have all introduced a dynamic take on the era) is unlike the resurgences before it — think 60s, 80s, 90s and so forth — because there seem to be little, if any, tweaks that “modernize” the fashion of its original provenance.

Indeed, you can seemingly pull a garment from the back of Marcia Brady, throw it on a runway and call it Fall fashion for 2015. But is this a good thing?

Why not, right?

It will certainly make vintage shopping that much more compelling, and there is something to be said of the “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it” nature of the era and its style. You wouldn’t edit a powerful piece of writing that struck all the emotional chords a writer sets out to. You wouldn’t send in a car for service if it was operating superbly. So why attempt to repair the kind of silhouettes that have historically boded in the favor of a woman’s body and her curves?

Of course, we won’t all climb aboard the Saint Laurent/Louis Vuitton trains — that seems like an impossibility — but if you’re thinking about showing your 70s (mutton?) chops, let us suggest you take a page from the Marcia Brady book of style with the following tenets:

1. Turtleneck or no neck at all

1a. Do it in a primary color that errs on the side of burnt. I know this probably doesn’t make a lot of sense but I am opening up the comment to your interpretation.

1b. Put your art school’s education to work and think about contrasting your primary colors. Wearing a blue turtleneck? How about a red sweater over it?

2. Part your hair down the middle, NEVER tuck it behind your ears.

3. For the days when you’re feeling the no neck at all clause, wear a neckerchief the Man Repeller way.

4. Consider the knee-high sock (or the ankle length white one). You won’t look like an extra in Clueless. (But really, is that the worse thing?)

5. If you’re showing your belly button, you’re failing. Everything high waist; so high waist you’re in a state of perennial wedgie.

And, of course, all is flair in love and fashion. Skirts, sleeves, collars — you name it, she’s done it, you’ll co-opt it.

Alternative Greetings During Fashion Week

Fashion week can be awkward in the way that corporate holiday parties are awkward. It’s fun — everyone is lit up from the energy and the rushing around and the excitement of not being hunched over in their black Staple-bought swivel chairs while answering emails that end with, “Stay tuned!”

But at the same time, you’re still working. You’re on your best behavior. And though very often you’re in the same room as a handful of friends, you’re not necessarily quite positioned to hang out with them.

You know how it is: you spot Japhon, you want to talk to Japhon, but then your boss in a Santa hat walks up to him while Tulabean from ad sales comes up to you. You have to be polite. You have to talk.

So you bring up the printer.

Or the weather. How great the caterer is, etc.

The same thing happens during fashion week. You spot your friend — thank you baby Moses for making her wear a super loud coat today —  and she mouths to you, “Section C?” Ploop. No. You are in Section F, across the runway, next to an acquaintance you aren’t super friendly with but due to the proximity, or lack thereof between your butts and knees, you’re required to chat.

And heaven’s no child, you will not say the following:

“Are you surviving?”

“How’s fashion week insanity going?”

“Fashion weak with an ‘A,’ am I right?”

“I haven’t eaten all day.”

INSTEAD! Behold, a list of alternate greetings during fashion week that can also be applied to any number of various semi-awkward encounters wherein you’re required to say something and turn small talk into tall talk:

“Hey! Heard your cat died.” This way, if the recipient of the comment does not have a cat (you don’t know), she can say so, which will snowball into “Oh, so you’re a dog person,” which will then help you get a sense of whether she is soulless or soulful.

“Is it just me or does it smell like turpentine up in here?” When the recipient wonders what the F you’re talking about, you can explain that there is a theory that states that the women of Ancient Rome drank turpentine because it allegedly made their urine smell like roses. The other end of this greeting might not want to talk to you any longer, but she will be thankful — trust me — when she goes to a sponsored dinner later and has the most interesting fact at the table.

“I just ate a cow! Literally!” Because it’s the black toilet paper equivalent of the obvious, “I haven’t eaten all day.” Of course, we recommend you follow up the comment with “Just kidding, I don’t do animal protein” to get you back in the game. This will also likely yield lucrative information about a free vegan delight pop-up for fashion editors at Milk Studio/Lincoln Center/The Piers.

“I am sooooooo relaAxXxXxed.” But make sure to drag out the final syllable of relax so they know you mean it. The formula for this one is similar to your cow-noshing in that it will run counter to the obvious “OMG, so stressy.” Then I would recommend falling to the ground, placing your arms under your head and pretending that you’re lying on a beach chair in Tulum. Suggest that your conversational counterpart do the same and maybe you will start the hottest off-runway trend.

“Qfgysghjajsw!”

“I noticed you don’t shave your arms!” Upon their looking horrified, explain that you merely point this out in hopes of banding together in the sistership of natural insulation. Show her your arm (note: this only works if you have a hairy one) and together you can celebrate human cashmere. If you do not have hairy arms, begin sobbing quietly and explain that when you were a child you swam in the neighbor’s over-chlorinated pool and that while you haven’t been able to grow hair on your arms since, you’ve grown webbed feet.

“I almost didn’t make the show because a friggen’ UFO was blocking traffic.” Everyone talks about traffic during fashion week, so this will provide a bit of common ground. But red lights and wrong turns are boring. Aliens, on the other hand, add an element of excitement. Of danger! And ultimately, of friendship. Explain how the aliens messed up their schedules because it was the first season they organized it themselves (typical!) and they thought the Marc Jacobs show was today, so they panicked. Together you will laugh. Crazy aliens.

“Sorry I’m sitting so close you but I swallowed a magnet.” Then just blank stare them.

“Welcome to my fiesta!” Imagine someone sat down next to you and said that. First of all, you’d be like, “Sorry, I thought I was at a Derek Lam show, not your fiesta.” Then you’d think to yourself…”Oh no, have I confused my schedule?” (Alien camaraderie). These thoughts will be running through your seat mate’s mind quickly so be sure to alleviate her worries quickly by blowing a party horn near her ear and throwing paper confetti into the air. You will have either won yourself a new friend or a standing spot next season.

“I invented the Post-it.” While the proof of concept behind this fib is shaky at best, a relentlessly failed attempt at made-up entrepreneurship at worst, the way we see it, you don’t lose. Why? Because if the receiving end of your comment believes you, you’re a hero. If they don’t, you know that she, too, has a proclivity for Romy and Michelle’s High School Reunion, which likely also means that she is a fan of Rodarte (see: FW 14) and all is right in the world that is fashion.

— Amelia Japhon Diamond and Leandra Tulabean Medine

Shooting Tips For All You iPhone Photographers

I have always had my qualms about camera phones. It was only a few measly years ago, pre-iPhone, when I would carry my huge Canon SLR out — or even a disposable for nostalgia’s sake. I was reserved about submitting to a camera built into a phone and tried to convince myself that my phone was just a tool for texting. But recently, I’ve faced the reality that my shelf of cameras is collecting dust and that it’s rare I take a “real” camera out. Even rarer: a purse that can fit one.

This here is my computer phone. It is the size of my face and is more or less an iPad. As someone who hadn’t updated her software since the days of Windows ’96, a new tech product was an anomaly. Playing around with this freaky new toy, however, I learned that our friends out in Cupertino have made some updates that I can get behind.

Auto Focus & Exposure Control: You no longer have to aggressively tap on your phone to focus like a mad cow, because the phone does the work for you. If you slide your finger up and down on the screen, a yellow sun appears signifying exposure, which you can manually toggle and change. By tapping on the screen you can lock in a certain exposure if you are shooting in the same light continuously.

Slo-mo Video: There is no denying how damn cool this is. What’s cooler is you can simultaneously take stills while recording any type of video by tapping the white button to the left of the big red record button.

A video posted by Patrick Janelle (@aguynamedpatrick) on Sep 29, 2014 at 6:16am PDT

Spy Tip: If you want to look like you’re in the Secret Service, you can use the volume button on your earbuds to snap a photo (I’ve done it on the subway many times). Or, take an easier route and use the volume button on the side of your phone.

Burst Mode: You can shoot 10 frames per second continuously by holding down the shutter. It really comes in handy, for example, if you meet TLC and are nervous that just one photo won’t do the trick. (Also useful if you want to later make a GIF.)

Editing Tools: Finally there are more tools than that sad magic wand. Here we have a built-in Photoshop, eliminating my need to open the Camera Plus app in addition to 18 others.

Self-Timer: Who needs a selfie stick? Now there is no need to download a data-eating app while traveling alone in a foreign country if you want a picture of yourself that doesn’t involve your right arm. (Not speaking from experience here.)

And there you have it. Your phone is more of a camera than your dusty high school Canon Elph, slightly more portable than an SLR and ups your Harriet the Spy Game by at least 10 points. Did you know this thing makes phone calls, too?

How To: Maintain Bangs

All women (#yesallofthem) know that the single most important question a twenty-something will ask her friends is this: should I get bangs? Fewer people understand that bangs are not like white wine in that they aren’t always a good idea, and when you have a Middle Eastern forehead as compact as the one my parents gave me and a simultaneous complex fostered by your modern orthodox upbringing about looking like you’re wearing a wig even if you’re not, you are an even less likely candidate to look like a) Jane Birkin, b) Brigitte Bardot or c) Charlotte Gainsbourg.

Or are you?

I have been toying with the notion of bangs since my forehead and eyelids were first introduced to the concept during my senior year of high school. On a Saturday evening, after having watched The Devil Wears Prada not once but twice, I endeavored to cut my own. What came of it was a mullet that I have trained the visual receptors in my mind to erase, but as fate and my scalp follicles would have it, I have also, since that point, consistently wondered: if I were to do them right — as in, with the help of a PROFESSIONAL, could they work? Not one to seek aid when it comes to the affairs of my head, I did something fairly unbecoming: on Friday I went to Bumble and bumble where, with the help of the scissor-hands that belong to Roz Murray, I finally answered that pressing question.

No! Of course they don’t work! But who cares because I love them and think they look great and even though some semblance to the mullet is largely stricken, I am going to take them, run and literally (again, as in, not figuratively) pony up. Then I will laugh when my husband has to have sex with me because it looks like he’s doing a dude with a mushroom cut!

Here are five important rules for bang maintenance the easy, no maintenance way as told by Roz.

1) Top knots ALWAYS look cuter and “done” with bangs. (Leandra rec: Dryspun makes topknots both toppier and knottier.)

2) Easy on the shower curtain: Dry shampoo will be your best friend unless you are willing to wash only your bangs.

3) Don’t be scared to let them separate or part from within the middle — it helps you achieve that Bardot/Kate Moss flair.

4) Carry a brush or a comb for touch-ups. Roz recommends Mason Pearson for both.

5) When it’s cold, hats are practically made for bang-bearers in that they hold them in place and keep cowlicks at bay. This is supposing you are not interested in a cowlick. If you’re not, pray tell why.

Bonus note: Try different lipsticks and eyeliners because YOU HAVE A NEW FACE AND SHOULD TAKE IT FOR A TEST DRIVE.

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It’s Only Tuesday, but This is Already the Best News You’ve Heard All Week

I don’t know about you but I am Y-A-W-N-I-N-G with a capital S for “Snagtooth it’s still Tuesday!!!!!” See? Do you see what I mean? I am writing this post in the voice of Sarah Palin and not the Tina Fey kind but polar bears are still the best.

What I need is a drink, but I scoured the Internet for you folks instead. Cheers!

1. Photographer Julian Wasser to Display Photographs of Joan Didion at the Danziger Gallery 

Though their photographer/writer relationship was never an exclusive one, Julian Wasser is the man behind some of the Joan Didion photos that have become almost as iconic as the woman herself. Beginning this week, the Danziger Gallery will showcase Wasser’s photos of Didion — as well as never before seen images and the contact sheet that reportedly inspired the Juergen Teller-shot Céline ad — from February 12 through March 21. (Via T Magazine: “The show, its organizers note, was set up before the Céline hullabaloo.”)

2. Caroline Issa x Nordstrom Will Fill Your Wardrobe Holes, Will Not Transport You to Narnia

Sometimes I talk to my wardrobe. I’ll say, “Wardrobe, there is not a modicum of class in you. Amal Clooney would fan herself at the tragedy that is this surplus of torn denim.” Such conversations call attention to my lack of suiting trousers, A-line skirts, and generally any piece of clothing I could use to channel the Downton Abbey staff, which is something I aim to do on at least a bi-weekly basis.

The Caroline Issa X Nordstrom collection will be my answer to this problem. It is ripe with the wardrobe staples we seem forever in search of. The collection is classic, comfortable, and practical.

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3. NY Mag profiles Joanna Coles: “38 Hot Sex Moves That Will Make You a Better Feminist”

MR chatroom veteran and Cosmopolitan Editor-in-Chief Joanna Coles has a treadmill desk and a signature uniform of leather pants and stilettos. Her celebrity spirit animal is John Oliver but for the sake of conversation, it’s Tilda Swinton, and she has the social skills of one very witty butterfly.

Read the piece in all of its glory here.

4. Florence and the Machine Release a New Video and It Is Weird in a Good Way 

Thank the ethereal heavens; Florence and the Machine have a forthcoming album and the video for their first new track since 2011’s Ceremonials, “How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful,” rings true to its title. The video shows Florence doing a lot of whimsical fairy dancing with an equally whimsical look-a-like in — you guessed it — a dark and majestic forest.

Oh, how we’ve missed her.

5. The Best News You’ve Heard All WEEK

Allow us to pull gigantic brass bugles out of our dramatically tight denim pockets that grasp like terrified koalas to our asses and then, just as you’re thinking, “Wow, I guess those really were just gigantic brass bugles in their pants so maybe they aren’t, in fact, glad to see me,” we’ll announce two things:

1) We ARE glad to see you, but more importantly

2) You can now see us on SNAPCHAT. We’ll be updating our “story” all during fashion week, because as Joan Didion said (full circle, pizza bagel): “We tell ourselves stories in order to live.” Live with us: @man_repeller

Apologies in advance for the triple chin selfies.

(And srsly, make note of that underscore: man_repeller . Otherwise you could be getting Snapchats from I SERIOUSLY DO NOT KNOW WHO.)

Three’s a Trend: Denim Footwear

One of the most compelling truths to emerge out of the 70s redux has been the spotlight under which denim has finally had a chance to shine like the selvedge wizard that it is.

First, there were jeans. Lots of spectacularly bad jeans. Cropped and huge and in such a delightful (dis)array of divergent washes.

Then, there were the shirts. First tencel and malleable, then stiff and raw or a poly-linen blend and now somewhere between all three iterations.

Then came the jackets and the skirts (mini and straight, long and a-line, you name it, they’ve done it ) and the neckerchiefs and some errant handbags, but it was only when the official fabric of America finally started percolating through the southern most region of our patriotic ankles that it became official: denim is no longer just the preferred textile of recreational living, it is, despite Canada at large, our national anthem.

But if you’re still not convinced, I ask that you consider this: Nicolas Ghesquière, or the artist formerly known as Louis Vuitton, showed denim boots for Spring; Laurence Dacade, a prolific cobbler in her own right but also the designer of Chanel shoes, has been conducting the Justin/Britney train for at least two seasons. And now, with drops occurring several times a week across the commerce platforms we check to stay in check, it appears as though Jimmy Choo, Gianvito Rossi, Manolo Blahnik, Charlotte Olympia, Giuseppe Zanotti, Opening Ceremony and Pierre Hardy have their own cents to share.

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So call this a plea to consider the denim shoe. I’d recommend wearing them with various layers of the otherwise denim — like a pair of pants, and a jacket, set apart by a high neck white t-shirt, or a red mini dress worn over a denim oxford, green pants, eggs, etc. Text me if you need visuals.

Both Functional and Not: Brooches

Brooches don’t get the credit they deserve — not as the heirlooms we are so systematically granted from either the forebears we call our own or the ones we assume at vintage shops, or the fancy utilitarian fasteners that they are. This is why the Man Repeller Crystal Ball would like to propose that you attempt to consider them (as re-imagined contemporarily and en masse) for the following three purposes:

1. All Crotch and No Play

If you’re planning to invite the cowboy, the camel, the fupa and the jack-o-lantern* to your denim party, a good question to ask is why in the good name of falsified mom-ass you would opt not to decorate your belt loops with at least one angel wing or an arrow that may or may not think it, too, is Birdman. If you have smaller pins, which are less brooch-y, you might consider putting one on the opposite loop.

*Still working through the definition of jack-o-lantern yet but am pretty sure it will circumscribe what happens to the zipper/fly/belt loop region of your jeans while you’re seated.

2. Resourceful Rolling

If you, like me, believe that in order to survive cold winters, you have no choice but to roll up your sleeves and show some wrist (it is the only hope we maintain in the quest for warmer weather) but also find that ever since Jenna Lyons showed you how sleeves are supposed to be cinched, you can’t quite stand rolls on your shirt or jacket any longer, an interesting alternative to the flip and fry (I don’t know), is the clip and fly. Using the same arrow brooch from exhibit A, I folded a crease into the sleeve of my blazer at elbow length and then pinned it. Scrappy!

3. The Generic Way

Only, when your fancy ass diamond pins are clipped into denim, can they really be considered generic? Trick question because the answer is both yes and no. Yes because high/low is a virtue that has become generic across the fashion industry but no because it’s not about the denim, or the pins, so much as it is the way you way wear them. Right?

Your turn — brooch up, take a photo and share that shit in the safety deposit box below.

All brooches and pins by Lulu Frost. For outfit credits, see slideshow. 

Ask a French Girl About Digital-World Dating

When we first introduced Laura, she shed light on her wonderfully no-nonsense approach to dating. Her mode of thinking was akin to that of anyone with a clear-cut sense of personal style: it’s not so much about rules as it is about being (in a non-Kumbaya way) true to yourself. Laura is, of course, French, so this might seem like a case of easier said than done.

But what unifies us is the social media factor; no matter how much the apps on our smart phones may allegedly simplify our lives, they tend to find a way to complicate things, too. Most acutely within dating. And so once again, we asked a French girl.

What are your thoughts on dating apps like Tinder and Hinge?

They’re the right contradiction of the world we live in. It’s endless research of what we don’t have. It’s a business, like any other. And yet, I have some friends who met through these sites, and I love knowing they are happy. I guess it’s controversial, but it sums up our generation: alone, but so connected.

Do you / have you / would you use them? 

I don’t have them and it never occurred to me to use them. I use my phone to reach out to people I know. I find it so weird to look at people online the same way I look at clothes. Swipe, zoom in, zoom out, description, shopping cart?

On these dating sites, there are a lot of guys whose descriptions say, “French guy (or ‘Frenchie’) living in NY.” Laura, help. What is up with that?

Hahahaa. This is funny. I can’t believe being French is an attractive quote to say on a dating site, especially for a guy. Yes, New York is a “melting pot city” and this is why we all feel so good about being here. But using your background to attract women? I am not super sure about this.

On another note: I guess if a guy is French, he may not be as aware of the dating rules, which is kind of nice since he probably will not see a thousand girl as the same time as you. Bottom line, I would say to go and find out exactly what it is to be a “Frenchie in New York City.”

When it comes to Instagram, if a guy doesn’t text you, but he likes your photos and comments, what do you think that means?

Hum, I’ve never put the two in correlation. It’s quite simple: You like my picture but don’t want to text. Until you do, in fact, send me a text. I don’t know…just because you like my post doesn’t mean we have to talk.

What do you think about FaceTiming with a guy? Or if a guy FaceTimes you? Do you do that?

I really enjoy FaceTime. Living abroad from my family and so many of my friends, I kind of had to use it even if I thought it was weird. Now it’s part of my everyday communication tool with them and I love it.

When it comes to a guy FaceTiming me…sure, why not, if that talk can’t be done in real life or over the phone. But you always have to be careful with these apps and new ways of chatting: you are often (and it happens super quickly) very close to the “we-are-about-to-be-friends” border. And friends don’t kiss.

How do you think phones and social media and all of these apps contribute to mixed signals when it comes to dating?

It has became so hard to understand one’s intention or feelings  with all of the constant communication. Having a phone 100% linked to your body — all the screenshots, liking pictures, sharing music, sharing location, tagging on Instagram, Skyping, calling, texting, using WhatsApp, the list goes on — it’s too overwhelming, and at the end of the day…it makes it easier to lose interest, so you become friends instead.

This is the problem. A crush can quickly become a friendship-only affair  because you immediately know so much about the person. I had this conversation with my friends recently; we found it kind of exciting to not web-stalk the ones we like. No adding on Facebook, no following on Instagram, no looking at the last time the WhatsApp connection happened. That makes everything much more spontaneous and therefore, real.

I don’t want to know all the private stuff before I get to know the sound of his laugh.

Let’s talk about texting — do you prefer a guy to call or text?

Text me to tell me where to meet. Call me to tell me you are already there and waiting for me.

If he texts, how do you feel about emojis? Do you use them? What’s the worst emoji a guy could use?

If this is the first text, don’t. I don’t want to see digital roses or a face winking at me. (I love using them with my friends, though.) The worst is that waving hand. Do you mean “Ciao”? Or “Hello”? Or, “Talk to my hand”? Non non.

Any advice to those trying to date in a world that revolves around phones?

Use your phone to find a fun spot in the city or to buy an outfit for that date. Text about the address where you’ll meet. Call to say you are already there. Then leave it in your bag and pay attention to your date rather than your phone.

Last question: do you have any hard-fast texting rules? 

Not at all. This is actually super laughable and my friends don’t hesitate to make fun of me. I have not one single rule about texting or waiting or not. It’s always super spontaneous.

The problem with spontaneity, though, is that I can totally forget to respond, or the opposite — I respond twice, but I’ll use two different ways of saying the same exact thing.

We should go back to writing letters.

Laura is wearing a Club Monaco jacket, her mom’s sweater, vintage Levis, Tods boots, her scarf is Gagetlou and her bag is the one she uses for grocery shopping in France, which she “stole” before a recent flight back to NY because she was overloaded before the plane.

The Life & Times of a Lefty

My friends never ask me to save them seats next to me. When I was younger, classmates used to roll their eyes while I jabbed them with my elbow. On more than one occasion, I’ve built an angry line of subway riders behind me as I lumbered to swipe through the turnstile and while 90% of the human population was busy creating GIFs for Katy Perry’s costumed backup dancer now widely known as Left Shark, myself and the remaining 10%  felt a deep pang of empathy for the big fumbling fish out of water.

This is the life of a lefty.

They used to tell me I was special. That it didn’t matter when the sides of my hands were painted in the metallic lead of a pencil by day’s end, or that I was destined to the pitcher’s mound during camp baseball games because the only lefty glove on the ground was being used to hand out Fla-Vor-Ice in the cafeteria.

“Jimi Hendrix was a lefty, and he was the greatest guitarist of all time!”

My southpaw comrades know this one well. It’s a sentiment echoed only by the most dextral of the world’s right-handed patrons. They couldn’t give a pick, really. We’re supposed to live longer, but Jimi Hendrix died at 27. According to omgfacts.com, that’s only 39 years younger than the average left-hander.

I often joke to no one that I wasted the majority of my early years pretending to be gifted. By that I mean ambidextrous. I’d sooner hand in an essay written in chicken scratch then succumb to the classroom-desks-for-ants-and-right-handed-kids-who-can-write-well. I know Amelia feels me on this because she too — among other things — was born with the “creative gene.” –Esther

Thanks for passing the left-handed baton, Esther. I do understand the tribulations of handed-bias. Cutting with your average pair of scissors causes thumb cramps. This has taken about 100% of the fun out of crafting.

And consider the word alone: left. Its connotation is negative: “This is all that was left.” “Gross, leftovers?” Left is never going to end an argument (you’re right), and we’re never not going to feel left out. Did you know that the Latin word “sinister” originally meant left? Left turns in busy intersections are terrifying. There is never an option to make a left-on-red. Making a left turn at all in San Francisco is impossible, actually — you just make endless rights to get where you’re going. Victory after victory for the other side.

The worst part of being a leftie is the continual shock at our favored hand. Said as a statement (“I never knew you were a leftie!”), it is akin to pointing out you didn’t know someone had a nose. Said as form of bonding (“Alice is a leftie, like you!), it is akin to pointing out that you both have a nose, so you two should get along.

Said as a question, it’s just unnecessary. After a three-hour long standardized test: “You’re a leftie?!” Oh, no, I was just kidding during the SATs.

But Esther, let us not forget the good things of the port side, like Lisa Left Eye Lopes, Snoop Dogg’s blue flag and our left hand’s ability to make the L sign for Loser — which isn’t mean, it’s ’90s. We’re on trend. And while we are allegedly more susceptible to schizophrenia, and in practically every language the word’s etymology connotes something negative, I like to remind myself that left begins with an L. As in, L-I-V-I-N.

And really, how do we know that Left Shark wasn’t the one with the proper dance moves? Maybe Left Shark (who is technically Stage Right Shark) really had it…er, right, all along.  –Amelia