Leandra Medine's Blog, page 681

The Twenty Four Hour Woman is “All of Us”

It has become one of those Internet “things” to declare a singular figure as “all of us.” (See: “Local News Anchor Jamming to T.I. Is All of Us,” via Mashable, and, “This Raccoon Is All of Us on a Diet,” via BuzzFeed.)

To declare that someone/a raccoon is “all of us” is quite the sweeping generalization, not to mention it places a large responsibility on the giant, (hopefully properly ventilated) head of the declared mascot. I am almost 97% sure that a raccoon would never submit his resume for such a job. Likewise, I am 97% sure that the majority of “all of us” would not, surprisingly, enjoy being compared to a rabid marsupial*.

I mention my reservations to you about this because it’s important that you understand I don’t just run around with a baton all willy nilly and declare unsuspecting owls as being poster birds for the entire population of weed consumers, nor do I randomly assign French Bulldogs to head the board of Those Who Are Clumsy, all for the sake of jumping on the bandwagon of a verbal meme.

It is with this information that I pray you understand the gravitas of the following sentence:

The Twenty Four Hour (permanently naked and joyously-mulleted) Woman in the slideshow above is, in fact, all of us.

And if she is not, then I don’t even know who we are anymore.

Illustrated by Scott Lenhardt (who is either a spy or a brilliant observer of our daily lives, same thing), the calendar is available here for the year 2015. Not to toot my own buffalo but it makes a killer holiday gift — mom, friends, all of you, this is what you’re getting this year.

[Twenty Four Hour Woman by Scott Lenhardt]

*I can neither confirm nor deny whether or not raccoons are marsupials because I am fairly certain I once read they are actually aliens.  

Does Wrinkle Prevention Really Prevent Wrinkles?

I got my first wrinkle a couple of years ago. I noticed it, initially, when I was in the parking lot of a Target. I looked in the car mirror and saw a small fissure on my forehead, like the beginning of a crack in a shoe. I immediately covered it with my finger.

“That’s not a wrinkle,” said my mother, who was my companion in the car. “Take your finger away from your forehead.”

But I did not. For almost a year, every time the light hit my wrinkle, I covered it with a finger. This seemed to work moderately well. The only problem was that sometimes I would forget to put my finger on my wrinkle and people would see it. One day, I even forgot to put my finger on my wrinkle for an hour in the bright sun. Later, when I went home, it seemed my wrinkle had deepened. That night, I worried a lot about getting more wrinkles than my finger could cover. Was I really taking enough proactive steps to stop my wrinkle outbreak? This was when I purchased my first wrinkle cream. I was 23 years old.

I bought my first wrinkle cream from a CVS near my apartment. It came encased in a small blue L’Oreal pod. It looked somewhat like cold cream. I greedily slathered it all over my wrinkle. When I woke up, I felt like the wrinkle had disappeared but it was later revealed to be covered by a line of pimples I’d gotten from the wrinkle cream. Still, I kept using it, hoping that my cystic acne was preventing more wrinkles from sprouting all over my face.

You may think that 23 is a young age to buy wrinkle cream, but you would be wrong. I happen to have joined a growing legion of women who are buying wrinkle cream at very young ages. A recent study purports that a “third of women under the age of 25 are regularly applying products meant for the over 40s.”

“Wrinkle creams have definitely come on younger women’s radars earlier than in the past,” Dr. Carlo Charles, a cosmetic dermatologist, said in an interview. “While it’s not completely clear why that is, marketing could play a role in this phenomenon. Both television and online media sources certainly propagate the notion that deterring skin aging is dire and the appropriate age for starting this routine is oftentimes unclear.”

A quick survey of my friends shows a similar proclivity to buying preventative wrinkle cream. A male friend of mine uses moisturizer “just to prevent whatever it is that will make me look like Walter Matthau.” Another friend my age told a story of a business trip where she bought a wrinkle cream “for 100 dollars literally” because it had patented ingredients. I sympathized. I would have done the same.

But is all this prevention really helping us prevent wrinkles? It’s hard to know.

“There are a lot of studies that simple strategies like wearing an SPF containing moisturizer every day can reduce the amount and severity of fine lines developing in the future,” says Dermatologist Dr. Anne Chapas.

The principle of widespread wrinkle prevention is an odd psychological climate in which to live. Is there something weird about the idea of young people being so aware of their youth as a precious and valuable commodity that they actively try to preserve it? Have we so soundly gotten the message that our youth is premium, and that aging in real time will be superficially terrifying?

In other news, my wrinkle seems like it’s here to stay. I also switched wrinkle creams! I am using one that is supposed to peel off your skin and it seems to be working. At least I don’t have acne anymore.

Rebecca Harrington recently published her second book, “I’ll Have What She’s Having.”  She is also a frequent contributor to The Cut where she attempts unique diets that no one else should.

Adorable child via the Chloé kids campaign

So Many Questions about ‘Stand With Hillary’

Sometimes I feel like I am living under a rock, and sometimes I know I am living under a rock. This video has been freely loitering among the vast pages that compose the Internet since November 16th, and only today (Sunday, December 7th), at 7:40PM did I see it for the first time. As such, there are questions. Ones that you are not just welcome but encouraged to plus on. So, shall we?

Where did this man (incidentally, he is an actor named Jason Tobias and once played Jesus) get access to #TBT photos of Hillary, Bill and co?

Since Tobias is not actually the one singing, does anyone realize that this is just like a real life, politically-charged version of the time Phoebe Buffay’s voice was dubbed over in the “Smelly Cat” music video?

Is country music still the auricular manifestation of the American Dream? Has it ever been spun off and dubbed the nightmare as a result? Not saying it should be, not saying it shouldn’t.

Is the Hillary 2016 campaign being lampooned? Or is this an earnest attempt at lyrical support? Furthermore, how long will it take before The Chainsmokers steamroll over it with their turntables?

“Put your boots on, and let’s smash this glass ceiling.” 

Whose parents’ garage are they performing in?

How does Jason Tobias keep managing to squeeze so many syllables into spaces where there should clearly be less?

Can anyone provide a shopping link for his cowboy hat?

But most importantly, what?

Be a Braid! Be Very, Very a Braid!

It is all too easy to become lazy with our hair. When we deem it unfit for social appearances, we banish it to the tops of our heads like it’s being locked into a storybook tower; we pile our poor tresses into half-greasy masses, then secure the knot tightly with an old black elastic — the prison guard key.

When we “just can’t handle it” we chop thick slabs of hair off, removing pages of mane (an editor and her red pen) without any consideration for the hair still attached to our scalps. I imagine broom-swept piles of severed strands looking up at us while crying, “Did those months we spent growing together mean nothing?”

Of course, they did mean something — we were the ones doing most of the work: shampooing, conditioning, brushing, Moroccan oiling. But hair can be needy, and us women have busy lives. We need to be brutally honest with ourselves, which sometimes means that to our hair, we’re just plain brutal.

As is often the case, the Spring runway offered a solution. At Peter Som, Giorgio Armani, Michael Kors, Donna Karen, Tome and Suno — all of them showed models sporting varying brands of braids. And while the style itself is in no way revolutionary,  it is often overlooked, if only for the fact that so many of us remember it from when we were young. (Readers, tell me: was anything cooler at age 10 than the perfectly woven French braid?)

Braids significantly lower the risk of winter tangling. They aid in the fight against the scarf-caused rat’s nest, and at the same time they don’t say, “I give up” quite like a sloppy pony tail. In fact, with plaits — just as Kors so elegantly proved — the messier, the better. (And pro styling tip: the dirtier the hair, the stronger the hold.) If you only “kind of remember” how to fishtail, then great! Make a best-attempt and let it look undone. Too much fussing eliminates the whole point of the braid which is, at the end of the day, to make your life easier (add a little dry shampoo, jooj, and you’re done).

So the next time you forget to shower, or you’re feeling lazy, skip the bun. Instead, be the prince you wish to see in this world. Rescue the princess locked in Top Knot Tower and cry out to yourself: “Rapunzel, Rapunzel, braid down your sweet hair!”

Honk if You’re Addicted to ‘Serial’

Last week I shared a handful of favorite podcasts for holiday travel. “Serial” was conspicuously absent from the list, though delightfully present in the comments. I left it off because we’re still in the thick of the story, and also because I’m terrified that the series will end with no definitive answer as to what happened. That instead of Sarah Koenig cracking the case and listeners basking in the satisfaction and glory of justice, it will be a beautifully crafted tragedy that illuminates the frustratingly murky reality of a murder trial. Regardless, in the midst of rants about how impossible it is that no one knows if a phone booth existed at a Best Buy in 1999, my Disqus pals and I decided to continue the conversation via weekly “Serial” debriefs. Ready??

This week’s show had two main components: the effects of racism in Adnan’s trial, and the potential incompetence of his lawyer. The conversation around racism in our criminal-justice system and the US at-large is a crucial and particularly topical one. Between a former science teacher’s un-vetted intel about an alleged, murderous uncle offering Adnan safe-haven in Pakistan, and the assertion that within Adnan’s community it’s honorable to murder a woman if she leaves a relationship, the outlandish jumps are unbelievable. Except that they’re not. The question is: how much did racial and religious prejudice influence the outcome of the case? Adnan’s mother believes it’s why her son’s in jail. Koenig doesn’t discount the effects of racism — by any means — but isn’t convinced it’s the sole reason for Adnan’s incarceration.

I know my reaction doesn’t address the larger social problem, and may even be worse in putting that aside for a moment, but the issue of bias against Adnan based on stereotypes that are so far off feels like another reason to put Adnan on the stand. Given how relatable, engaging and quick he is in conversation with Koenig, wouldn’t taking the stand both humanize and engender him to the jury? Granted, he was a teen at the time, and it’s apparently not unusual for a defendant to opt out of testifying on his or her own behalf, but it still doesn’t add up to me.

Which brings us to the next issue: the lawyer, M. Cristina Gutierrez. It turns out there were bigger problems than a grating courtroom presence. Every week this story gets more odd. While Gutierrez’s reputation was excellent as a successful defense attorney, and Adnan adored her personally, she was disbarred (unrelated to this case) a year after Adnan’s conviction. Looking deeper, Koenig uncovers that Gutierrez was ill and erratic at the time, demanding Adnan’s family bring a $10,ooo cash payment to court at one point while missing filing deadlines and lying to co-workers on other cases.

To me, this at least helps explain why the tapes of Gutierrez in the courtroom sound so bizarre. Koenig goes out of her way to show that there are potential strategic explanations for how confusing and annoying Gutierrez is, particularly with Jay, but it seems like she never actually hits the points needed for the jurors to consider reasonable doubt, and worse, she just confuses things. So, I think I’m on the side of: Yeah, that lady blew it.

Also, Jay was GIVEN a lawyer? By the prosecutor? What? The more I learn about this guy, the more he seems unreasonably lucky.

Cowboy Crotch

Flattering is a frustrating word. It’s either followed with a but: “Oh that’s so flattering on you, but,” or it’s in reference to one’s butt (double t’s here), as in, “I like these pants, but they aren’t very flattering on my butt.”

When we attach the word “unflattering” to clothing, no matter how much we like the items in question, it takes the fun out of getting dressed. It erases the picture that was once so clear in our minds of the looks we hoped to approximate, or the outfit that we were piecing together. We knew who we wanted to be and then poof! — the word “flattering” went and married itself to the prefix “-un,” and just like that: we are without identity.

But Leandra recently recently asked the important if not entirely simple question, who cares if the pants you love look bad?

With the recent rise of belly-high denim waist bands — and mark our words, that 501 look is baby-got-back —  the f-word (no, not that one, or that one) seems to occupy much more mind space than frankly, it should be allowed. Sure, with the advent of high waist denim comes the mirrored crevices that form (absolutely unavoidably, regardless of body type, height or weight) when you have two legs and with them, a pair of thighs. But what I’d like to argue is that we celebrate this crease. We declare it a badge of honor, a deep-V for Victory. Let’s call it the Cowboy Crotch.

It’s not a camel toe (which is uncomfortable), and it’s not really a FUPA (which is a part of life). Rather, it’s a goal. A thing of beauty. Something to show off.

So saddle up and own it. After all, it is you who wears the high waisted vintage pants in this relationship.

If You’re at Art Basel and Want to Feel Cooler

Incidentally there are just two things you need to do:

1. Check into the Edition Hotel (not literally, you can have a drink at the bar that stands across from the concierge, which is covered in greenery that may or may not make you feel like you are the subject of a Juergen Teller-shot Céline ad).

2. Stop in to their concept shop, which is strategically located adjacent to the “market” where you can get iced coffee and marshmallows or celery sticks stamped with the approval of one Mr. Jean-Georges. There you will be afforded the luxury of basking in a world that is seemingly as small as, like, 50 square feet, but as intellectually wide as the kind of mind that retains information on — in addition to a large stack of magazines that contains both Monocle and a Kendall Jenner-covered issue of Love Magazine:

a) Mexican cooking (there is a bright pink cookbook, published by Phaidon, which I am just one jalapeño away from purchasing)

b) Russian criminals and their tattoos — in three separate volumes

c) Artisanal chocolate cubes and bars — both by the branding geniuses behind Mast Brothers and the wunderkinds who have changed the way I perceive “fruit and nut bars” at Lake Champlain.

d) Sunglasses for your retinas, ya di ya di ya, jewelry for your fingers and your necks and your ears

e) Serving plates that moonlight as decorative, whitewashed wall art as evidenced by a fractured skeleton lingering over the cash register

And if you were looking for clothes, I simply ask you this: when you know so much and can feel so much and have finally accessed Le Labo’s Sandal 33 scent, just a few steps from a beach that demands nothing more or less than a simple, Jane Fonda-style monokini, who needs clothes? This isn’t New York, after all.

In partnership with  EDITION Hotels.

Collage made up from images via Harper’s Bazaar and stock images via Corbis

But Where is Felicia Going?

Hand the Internet a meme, elicited by a distilled YouTube clip from Friday, and it will wear it to shreds.

Remind the Internet that another thing it does so well is capitalize on jealousy and FOMO and it will go, “Oh yea, I am good at that. Thank you for reminding me.” Then produce this:

Get tagged in the above photo enough times that you’re ready to throw your phone out a window, and we have a bit of a fork in your social media woods.

The innocent consumer of this meme and meta-meme has either one of two options:

1) Throw phone out the window (consider the high potential for a shattered screen) or

2) Join that which she cannot beat, leading us to another fork. This one is slightly more existential (the fork’s dividing question, that is. I do not mean the fork itself is existential, although a spoon very well may be. What even is a spoon?)

We know that Felicia is either:

A) Being routinely dismissed or

B) Consistently has somewhere to go–

And yet neither ask the very question that I think all of us as curious individuals need to know:

Where the F is Felicia going?

Art Basel? Home Depot? Woodbury Commons? Her grandmothers’ house? To find herself?

And will she be checking a suitcase, or just bringing a carry-on?

Did she have a proper going-away party with friends or was she like, “I’m just gonna keep things casual and tell everyone I’ll be at this one bar and then whoever wants to just stop by can.”

Did she pack enough underwear?

DID SHE REMEMBER HER PHONE CHARGER?

You tell me.

MR Round Table: Bros Being Basic

Leandra Medine: Today we’re round-tabling an Instagram account called BrosBeingBasic, which I suppose is essentially a play on the concept of girls — or — “bitches,” being basic. The reason I wanted to round table the account is because Amelia and I had a conversation earlier about her covering the account on MR. I said I’d only feel comfortable doing that if we addressed and identified this sort of double standard, where it’s funny when a guy does “it,” but desperate/weird/uncomfortable when a girl does.

Amelia Diamond: We also talked about the question of can bros be “basic”? What I kept coming back to is, for some reason, that it’s not as funny to qualify bros as being basic. Each time I’ve tried to start and write a post about The Basic Bro, I’ve stopped because while I guess there are basic bros, it’s just not that funny. Then you asked me why.

LM: Right, and to completely stereotype, I think that a lot of that is because men are much less apologetic about who they are and what they do and what they decide is funny. Whereas women consistently feel the need to, number one, apologize for themselves and number two, assume they need to fix something.

Charlotte Fassler: I have a question about the Instagram account. Do we know if it was made by men or women? I assume it’s run by guys but…

AD: I think it’s guys, from what I’ve seen. I know that guys submit these pictures with the captions and hashtags and then tag @BrosBeingBasic.  And then I think the account finds them and posts them.

CF: I ask because it would be so easy for a girl to make a parody account of bros and their basic “isms.” Like, “We’re at a beer garden,” or “We’re watching football,” or whateve the characteristic stereotypes are of what constitutes a guy being basic. But this feels more like a direct parody of girls.

AD: Right, it’s still guys making fun of basic girls.

CF: It’s guys making fun of girls rather than them portraying the stereotypes indicative of their own “basic-ness.”

Esther Levy: I agree. The captions are very tongue-in-cheek. Like in this one photo of a “bro” lying on the beach it says, “Taking a moment to send #warmvibes from down under to all my loves in cold weather right now #humblebrag.” It’s acknowledging that humble brag. It’s a parody of what a girl might do rather than a guy being really genuine about lounging on a beach and wanting to send #warmvibes. It’s more “guys being satirical” than “bros being basic.”

I think aside from the actually Instagram account, it seems like maybe guys don’t care as much as women do? Or maybe they’re just not as sensitive?

CF: I guess it makes me think about the fact that you could essentially assign the term “basic” to any sort of subculture–

AD: Or it’s more mass culture. It’s not even subculture.

CF: Yeah, to any sort of mass cultural stereotype. It’s sort of like the commercialized stereotype of the basic hipster as someone who wears a lot of Urban Outfitters, owns a Crosely record player and goes to a lot of shows. At this point, when you start to expand the term “basic” as it’s been appropriated, especially via social media, it loses meaning.

AD: I can’t get over the concept of being “basic.” I know you’re saying that basic can sort of accompany a variety of basics, but I would argue that being basic, first and foremost, categorizes a specific type just as much as hipster or emo or punk. I almost see basic as I would a high school lunch table.

EL: So it is kind of a subculture.

AD: I guess it is a subculture. It’s a subculture of mass things though.

LM: It’s a character type. It’s literally a list of proclivities that probably a lot of women have in common, that was then compartmentalized and given a name. But because of its name, it’s been frustratingly mocked to the extent that girls who enjoy getting manicures are ridiculed for it and feel “simple” or “stupid.”

EL: Do you think that because guys don’t necessarily feel as much of a need to categorize themselves into specific groups like, “hipster” or “athlete,” that the term “basic bro” doesn’t mean as much to them?

AD: I’ve been asking my guy friends, “Who is the basic bro?” And I saw two interesting things: One was that back when I asked girls define the “basic bitch,” they immediately described someone else. They’d be like, “Oh, well she’s someone who…” Whereas almost every time I asked a guy to describe the basic bro, they almost all began by saying, “OK. WE like…” They immediately associated themselves with the basic bro, which is interesting and correlates to my second point. My friend, we can call him Monty — he’s made previous appearances on MR — has said that what’s interesting is that guys are proud to be associated with the word “bro.” It means that you’re in. Or you inherently are whatever encompasses this 21st century, kind of frat culture masculine male.

It connotes this sense of the “guys guy” who can get along with everyone. So Monty — who started out describing himself at first — said, “Well you know, we wear boat shoes, khakis…” And I didn’t think that the basic bro is defined so much by how they dress. I told him that. So, he thought about “basic bro” in direct comparison to “basic girl” and labeled it, “Diet Bro,” which I thought was the most genius concept ever.

And then there are these guys — Diet Bros — kind of on the outside who see what this “bro culture” is and want to be a part of it.

So group Diet takes on this persona of, “I’m going to buy the frat tank and the gingham button down shirt.” They adopt those things that place them within bro culture, whereas with the “basic bitch,” girls try to put the term on other women instead of claiming it for themselves. But I also think girls are now able to make fun of themselves with this — we all hashtag #blessed ironically. I think everyone is in on the joke.

CF: I guess the fundamental difference is that yes, “bro” is derived from the fraternity brotherhood whereas, when it’s attributed to a girl it’s accompanied by the word “bitch.” So the general connotation with that is problematic in the way that both are perceived.

We’re not saying, “basic sorority girl.” It’s just interesting that with guys, bro is something they already associate with…whereas sorority girls — well, actually girls in sororities are proud of being in them, too…

AD: You can say it Charlotte!

CF:  I was in one. But I think that there are two distinctly different cultures surrounding them, and that the male culture of being a bro and that sense of camaraderie, a lot of it stems from partying and drinking and things that can be perceived on — for lack of a better word — this basic level of cool.

LM: Who has decided that those things are to be perceived as cool is the question. It’s not really a matter of the actual activities but the stereotypes that we assign to them.

AD: Well that’s what our basic post was like. When I “acted basic” for a week, it was fucking awesome.

EL: Well maybe it’s just like what you said, that guys embrace being part of a larger group and a part of what mass culture is dictating, and women perhaps sometimes scorn that.

CF: Right, we pride ourselves on being more individualistic.

LM: Men might just seem more unapologetic about their existence, whereas women are literally always apologizing. I was working out this morning and every time I had to break my plank I apologized for it. Why was I apologizing for breaking my plank? I’m pretty sure when Abie [my husband], whose session was an hour before mine, broke his plank, he was like, Alright, I was up for a minute! So, good on me!

AD: I feel like in talking to my friend Monty, I realized that the whole thing about being basic is trying to be part of this “popular” community. It’s the whole not thinking you’re there yet thing. It’s trying too hard. Originally, I think that before it started getting made fun of, the girls that were posting about their pumpkin spice lattes and their morning runs and selfies, I think they were doing this because they saw others doing it and were like, “Well, that’s what we do then, right?” If everyone has the “whatever” bag then I’m going to have the “whatever” bag. It’s this high school mentality.

Christina Couri: Yeah, and back to Leandra’s point, do you think it really is a sexist issue? Maybe it’s just alliteration. Maybe it just sounds better to say basic bitch and basic bros than “basic sis.” Maybe we’re reading too much into it and it’s simply that the double b sounds better.

LM: Well, I think we always read too much into everything that’s like, what we exist for — specifically as writers and at Man Repeller. But I think that ultimately, my question or my concern or perhaps my difficulty, is that this Instagram account has been up for a week, has only 42 pictures on it, and has already garnered 127k followers, based on the notion that it is parodying women who are self-conscious!

AD: I know. But don’t you think its funny? Like when I did that “perfect” Instagram account a while ago, wasn’t I doing the same exact thing?

LM: Right well all of the projects — or the journeys —  that you’ve embarked on, like the Basic Project and that Instagram account, Standing up to Pinterest, those are all different genuses — genuses? genii? — of basic-ness right?

CF: I guess I just don’t find it so funny because I think it could be done way better.

AD: You don’t think it’s funny that on November 26th, a guy got a party nail of Santa on his big toe?

LM: Okay, I figured out what my problem is! There is such a thing as the basic bro. Bros are basic. This account is not bros being basic, this account is bros making fun of girls.

CF: Yeah! That’s what I said, and that’s my issue with it too. It would be easy to have made an actual bros being basic account, like guys going to beer gardens and wearing plastic Ray-Bans.

AD: Basic bros do love beer gardens!

LM: Just scroll down who Amelia is following and I’m pretty sure that 80% of those guys have basic Instagram accounts.

AD: What did you say?

LM: I said, just scroll down your Instagram following list.

AD: Oh… you mean my friends?

LM: Yeah! I didn’t want to call them your friends…

AD: Here’s what’s interesting, I don’t think — and again, maybe this is what Leandra was talking about earlier today when she said you don’t want someone else making fun of your thing — but I wouldn’t call my guy friends basic bros. I have a really distinct type of guy in my mind who I think is a basic bro.

LM: Can you crystalize it for us?

AD: Yeah, I just don’t want to offend anyone online. But I think it’s a guy who tries to be a bro. It’s a guy who–

CC: Maybe your definition of a bro is a WASPy bro or a mama’s boy…

AD:  My definition of a bro…. I wish I could draw him for you. He lives in the East Village, he goes to — I’m trying to think of a bad East Village bar. And he wears like bad shirts because someone once said they were nice, and square toed shoes. He’s a little bit tacky…

EL: Board shorts

AD: He wears board shorts, and cargo shorts…

EL: And sandals in the city…

AD: Yeah. My friend I keep mentioning said that the basic bro would have those sandals that open a bottle on the sole of his flip-flops. That, to me, is a basic bro. But I’m sure that some people also categorize basic bros as the people that I hang out with, like loafers and blazers, etc. I think a while ago Jezebel did a map of the basic bro depending on region. So there was like, the New England basic bro, the Tri-State area basic bro, etc. But to me, and in talking to my friend, a “true basic bro” is a guy who puts on the persona of a bro, whatever the fuck that is. He is not innately bro if that makes sense. It’s sort of like for me, when I first started thinking about basic girls, it seemed like people who wanted to portray popularity in terms of how we knew it from a high school or college standpoint. To portray that you’re in.

CF: You peaked in high school.

AD: Yeah, maybe you did peak in high school. It’s trying to portray that you’re in, and you want everyone to know that you are a part of it. To me, that’s what being basic is. Going forward, if I were to describe “being basic” to someone, I wouldn’t say it’s to actually be the definition of basic. Like if I were to (negatively) say, “Oh my god that girl is basic,” to me it would mean “trying too hard.”

CF: My question is, do we feel like bros can’t completely be basic the same way that girls can? Or not the same way, but do we think it works to assign them basic-ness?

LM: I actually think that to ask if they can be basic the same way is a valuable question. Because there are basic females and there are basic males, it’s just a matter of how those titles are not distributed and not necessarily accepted, but how they are, I guess, perceived.

AD: Well when you and I were talking about it, you said something funny like —  I might get this wrong — but that there are more easily identifiable qualifiers for a basic girl. It might have been that College Humor video that set it in stone.

CC: That could be, but even so, I don’t have a well defined image of a basic guy. I think of funny stereotypes of guys but I don’t…

AD: What do you think of? For me the gym would be one.

CF: The gym, yeah.

CC: It’s not necessarily a basic bro, it’s just more funny stereotypes of a man. For example, a man with cats or a tortured musician to name a few.

LM: Right, and somehow those things become cooler! The qualifier, the cat, becomes cool. It’s like when I’m at Soul Cycle class with a lot of men, I think to myself, “This must be a good teacher.” And that’s a frustrating experience unilaterally, right? Because I’m supposed to be on the opposite side of the spectrum, and so self-aware and cognizant of my thoughts and the way I want women to be perceived and treated. So why is it that I’m falling victim to these —

AD:  These stereotypes that you don’t even mean to be.

LM: Yeah, or–

AD: What are you thinking about when you’re in class and there are a lot of men, are you thinking, Oh, this must be a harder class?

LM: Well in Soul Cycle, yeah. I’m thinking, this must be a “no bullshit” class. Or it’s like if you see a man walking a cat — cats don’t really get walked, huh?

AD: Well what if you saw a man walking a cat? What the hell would you think? That’s a cool cat!

CF: There’s a guy with a cat on his head that runs around.

ALL: Oh yeah!

LM: When I see a guy getting a pedicure I’m like, Good for you! Good on you, I’m happy for you. Whereas when I see women getting pedicures — and just repainting really clean nails — I think to myself: high maintenance, and that’s a terrible thing to say! Pedicures are a wonderful and sometimes medicative experience!

AD: If a guy Instagrammed a photo of himself getting a pedicure you’d think it was hilarious. If a girl did that you’d be like —

LM: No.

AD: Like, Oh cool did you get a blowout too?

LM: But the difference is that when a man instagrams a picture of himself bench-pressing 180 lbs you’re also like, That’s so lame – and if a woman does, you’re still like, That’s so lame!

CF: The gym is where they sort of join forces.

LM: But the point is that it’s not really a matter of the gym! It’s a matter of the fact that society is harder on women. It’s also like, if as a woman, you take a picture of yourself with a bottle of Macallan in your hand — because Scotch is stereotypically a predominantly male drink — you don’t look cool, you look like you have a drinking problem. Or like you’re trying really hard to be something that you’re not. Where’s the white wine spritzer?

EL: It comes down to validation. That’s why people get offended, because you’re calling them out on their need to be validated about the fact that they drank rosé on a Sunday. It’s like congrats, we all drank rosé that day.

LM: Right and that presents the question —

EL: And sometimes I want to upload a picture of my Rose!

LM: Because it looks really beautiful!

AD: That’s why I have a fake account!

CF: So does the fundamental difference here boil down to the way it’s perceived via social media?

LM: I think that the fundamental difference boils down to the perpetuation of these concepts because of Instagram. I don’t necessarily know that these classifiers would otherwise exist.

AD: Whenever I post an earnest picture or a picture with a very ernest caption, I get shat on by all of my friends. Then I’m embarrassed too!

LM: But that’s also by virtue of your personality. You’re a silly person so it is funny. But even this morning, I found this photo of me, Claire and Naseeba somewhere on the Internet and I thought, “Oh that’s a really good picture we all look cute — specifically me — I think I’ll post it tomorrow! I’m not going to call it a TBT because then people will know exactly why I’m calling it a TBT. So I’m just going to say, ‘these are my only two blonde friends’.” I’m guilty of all the things too. I just also don’t care.

CF: Yeah, I think that girls always try to find these qualifiers to post pictures of themselves that they want to post. Or they try and find a way to ironically undermine it rather than being honest and admitting, “Damn! I look good in this picture so I’m going to post it!” It’s sort of finding the way to not be annoying on social media, because there are all of these stereotypes of annoyance. Or if you Instagram a photo of your rosé in the sunset, you do so with 85 hashtags in order to turn it into a joke to show that you’re self-aware. I think it all boils down to these weird insecurities. I guess it’s like what Esther was talking about — validation.

AD: And to tie in what everyone has said and to touch on that, if it does boil down to validation, and there is this embarrassment tethered to it, I don’t think that most guys feel or have that sense of self-awareness and embarrassment. I don’t think they would question whether or not a post was lame. Whereas I’ve definitely texted (probably) all of you at some point asking, “Can I post this or is that so embarrassing?” I can’t see any guy asking their bro, “Yo, can I post this?”

CF: On the flip side, guys can be so lame and embarrassing on Instagram.

AD: But they don’t care.

LM: I think that every guy who is active on Instagram is basic to a degree.

EL: Active as in —

LM: Frequently uploading pictures.

AD: Maybe Instagram makes all of us basic.

LM: Maybe the question isn’t who of us are basic, because we’re all basic. It’s just a question of how far we take it —

AD: With the joke?

LM: Or how pronounced we make it. Maybe basicness is a human condition.

EL: Maybe we should take back the word “basic.”

AD: I feel enlightened by my new definition of it and refuse to let it go. The “diet bro” or “diet girl.” It’s this adult journey to being in the “in” crowd.

CC: I thought you meant — because actually certain diets, like gluten-free or vegan have become sort of basic — I thought that’s what you meant.

CC: That’s interesting though, that diets have become so basic.

AD: Juice cleansing is basic.

EL: Mylks with a Y are basic.

CC: The Fat Jewish just posted a picture of this Gluten-Free Singles site.

CF: That came up as an ad on my Facebook a really long time ago! But yeah, I feel like maybe Instagram has flatlined us and created these waves for this condition to exist in an obvious way of which we’re all aware.

AD: Right. And I think that that’s why it’s funny and why it won’t die, because we’re all present and privy to the joke, thanks to Instagram and Twitter.

CF: We’re all being confronted by each other’s basicness.

AD: We’re all in on the joke.

LM: So basicness is actually vanity — we’re being confronted with our own vanity and we’re too deep in our narcissism to call it that so we had to assign a different term to it.

CF: I honestly do think that if we weren’t so aware of what everyone else was doing, we’d think less about our own actions. It would just be stuff that we do, as opposed to “Omg, I’m so basic, I’m seeing ‘The Hunger Game’ at midnight.” You wouldn’t think of it as something you need to apologize for.

LM: So, @BrosBeingBasic, funny or bad?

AD: I think it’s funny.

EL: It makes me laugh, but it’s going to die out in 5 minutes.

CF: I’m already done, it’s past its joke and I wouldn’t follow it.

LM: I think it’s past its joke too.

CC: I wouldn’t follow it but I still find it funny.

CF: I think it’s not well done at all!

CC: Charlotte thinks it’s not artistic enough.

LM: I just get really frustrated by low common denominator quips. They bother me. It’s like all this candy and so few vegetables and there’s just no balance. The difference between, say, the Didion documentary Instagram account and this one can be likened to the difference between a fashion show where there’s a live band and streamers that fall from the sky and models with megaphones shouting the show’s hashtag, and a quiet, well-edited show in a discreet corner of Paris where there’s no cell phone reception and it’s actually about the clothes. I’m getting frustrated about how stupid we’re becoming. We don’t even really know it. I think that’s what this really boils down to.

The Writer’s Prompt Is Back in Style

No, literally.

This week, we want you to crystallize and illustrate what you believe to be the most accurate portrayal of style you have heretofore known. Whether it presents itself as a chilling recollection of your first fashion memory or as a haiku written to, I don’t know, Jane Birkin (or the Olsens), or even as a brief dissertation on the nuances that define style as told through your windows and soul and all that platitudinal jazz is completely up to you. We just want to know: how do you define style?

All submissions should clock in at ~500 words and be e-mailed to write@manrepeller.com by next Thursday (not Friday!), December 11th, at 12PM. Per usual, if you’re feeling particularly social and your Salmon Salsa has worn off, get engaged using the hashtag: #MRWritersClub.

Can’t wait to read it, love you, call me, spank your cat!