Do The Fashionable Elite…Suck?

You walked into the party like you were walking onto a yacht
Your hat strategically dipped below one eye
Your scarf it was apricot
You had one eye in the mirror as you watched yourself gavotte
And all the girls (and boys) dreamed that they’d be your partner
They’d be your partner, and…

You’re so vain, you probably think this blog is about you
You’re so vain, I’ll bet you think this blog is about you
Don’t you? Don’t You?

-Carly Simon, You’re So Vain (1972)

The Fashionable Elite in New York City….well, sort of kind of, really do and genuinely kind of suck; at least many of the ‘writers’ anyway. It is painful to even say this but your ‘Insider’ perspective is sort of well, kind of…how do I say this politely? Repetitive and predictable are words that come to mind.  When I read you, it’s like watching General Hospital Circa 1980, falling asleep and then waking up tuning in 2005 and realizing that nothing has changed. Your “About Last Night” coverage still has your formulaically blowing smoke up the ass of the same cast of characters you have been “covering” or hanging out with for years regularly. They are part of your circle. I get it. You are all so bitchin, cool and tres chic, appear constantly on all the right photographers’ websites and get quoted and/or interviewed by your other media friends consistently.  In fact, most often when you “cover” events, you make sure to get your photo taken as you frankly are part of the fabric of the story, or at least your being there is.

You won’t admit it. All dandy and preppy like, maybe you fancy yourself as Truman Capote but currently in certain circles you are more in Vogue, because many of these young folks have no idea who he even was, and that is good for you, that young people no longer have any sense of history. And yes you are one of the preferred walker’s for fashionable young female socialites, nudging other male socialites aside,  to society gala’s and fashionable store openings and product launches.   Maybe perhaps you fancy yourself as Tom Wolfe but  the only bonfire you aspire to is one of your own ‘Vanity’. Maybe, however, that is not ‘Fair’. You get your style tips from Society’s original ”Dandy“,  Patrick McDonald or maybe even ‘The Image Guru”  Montgomery Frazier but you won’t even give either man his props. Yet you know that it is literally impossible to upstage an original. But I diverge.

Yes you are so trendy that you may even be the reason for the origination of this new society phenomenon called being a “News Butterfly” — the trend of the social news media ‘professional’ as the story, who spend more time at their own personal photo shoots, posting images of their well styled, frequently made over selves to Facebook.   Hell it worked for Suzanne Stone Maretto, I mean Rachelle Hruska, the new media entrepreneur, who is literally To Die For and looks equally good in magazines, in newspapers, front of the camera on the Red Carpet and on T.V.  You will forgive me, I just can’t listen because it all makes no freaking sense. Communications skills? Who needs those? Just master sound bites and wear some hot clothes and again repeatedly remind people how totally bitchin, cool and tres chic you are. But then again there is worse, there is Micah Jesse. Seriously WTF is even the point of that? Yes, I understand that with the public being so dumbed down, there is even a place for ‘ridicutards‘ on red carpets.

No need to conduct research, study history or come up with novel ideas. A News Butterfly can simply read the blogs and postings of those less famous or less consumed with their own fame game, lift and carry. Some so called real published writers do this and get away with it.  No need to sound like John Montone or even have have the “Eyebrow Man”,  George Whipple’s eyebrows but simply ramble and give a few “you go girls”,  be stylishly glamm and all Wendy Williams. Yeah, that’s special and actually it will probably work in New York City in 2011.

You can purport to be reporting on social happenings while reminding people how socially happening, you and your clique of friends are. Like Andy Warhol on crack, you already had your 15 minutes but that is not enough, so hell turn the camera on yourself to remind us once again how we should all be reading and following you because of whom you know.   Like Foreigner says, it’s all Head Games, just you and me baby playing head games.

In fact, if you had your own party, you could be the guests and the media. Or limit media coverage by folks who aspire to be just like you while they cross link back to your blog and put your photo in their blog so you will return the favor and maybe even reference  their unique insights in your columns. Insider Baseball is so delicious. Easy to hit the balls out of the park when you know what is coming, fastballs, sliders and curves no worries. They all look like hefty, Italian meatballs dripping with sauce or well….sort of like me (at least until I lose 25 more pounds).

So here is my challenge. I am throwing down the gauntlet but since none of your fashionably elite friends will quote or link this blog, you have no worries if you decide not to take it. You are safe from critique by your clique. Instead of posing as a tres cool, chic, insightful and original, why not actually do something different? Try BEING.

Listen, Carrie Bradshaw has nothing on you. In fact you have something on her. You have a penis and she well….has a face like a horse and you well don’t. Well maybe Micah Jesse does have a face like a horse’s ass.   Ouch! But this blog is not even seriously about him. He does not even pretend to be a writer. He is a blogger suffering from celebrity worship syndrome if nothing else and a wannabe east coast Perez  Hilton. And let me be clear aspiring to be Perez Hilton is like aspiring to be the rather prolific gay doodie of Chucky.

How often can you simply sit at your PC and plug in the same tired formula blowing smoke up the ass of your fashionably elite friends on so many irrelevant issues and call yourself a writer?  Andy Warhol, Truman Capote, Jimmy Breslin,  Norman Mailer you are not. They were in touch with something on a different plane about who and what were are as a people.  I think you must know this.  You do have some nice clothes though and have exhibited a mastery of the social media.

It took you half your natural born life growing up in Manhattan to make it above 96th street but glad you finally did so, at least now that is sufficiently gentrified. But then again, as you are truly ‘a man about town’, had you checked nearly a decade ago you would have already noticed that.  Glad you like my Cutler & Gross eyeglasses to finally get a pair yourself, I got them two years ago and was wearing nerdy frames before being nerdy became trendy and cool.  So forgive me, if most often, in my estimation, you are Carrie Bradshaw in boxers and a sports jacket or overcoat. But do me a favor, if you interview me, formally or informally or otherwise source me for information looking for ideas that emanate at the grassroots of society, kindly quote or reference the sources not one of your pals who you are doing a favor for.  Can’t you say, do or write something which is not a phucking cliche or stop being a media whore,  pitching yourself to the gossip media? Say something of import for once for crying out loud, maybe even something that is not so utterly fashionable and trendy?

Note: To those who might  be inclined to interpret this blog as one of hate towards any one specific individual of the so called fashionable publishing elite who cover life on the Avenue, try to consider it instead a challenge to maybe more than one individual NOT to morph into something so utterly Carrie Bradshaw. After all, that Sex and the City persona which all too often has served as the template for too many chic lit bloggers,  is largely a caricature or creative edit of the actual public night  life of Candace Bushnell as created by her editor(s) for a salacious column in the  Observer in the 1990’s.  In short, it was fiction based on a lie or many lies or embellishments for effect. To use that as a template for your career, it is not exactly art mimicking life so much as it is life mimicking plastic, even if Sarah Jessica Parker is your fashion hero.  But I get it, even SJP gets it. There is more money in playing Carrie Bradshaw, a caricature of Candace Bushnell then there actually is in being Candace Bushnell. So mimic the plastic is perhaps the lesson indeed. You may, however, just wanna keep opportunistic douche-bags like Darren Starr who will rip-off ‘your’ concepts at a comfortable distance.

Links: This blog was picked up/lifted by the following

-Tia Walker’s The Quest for “It”
-Cape Cod Today news site

1 comment

  1. Scallywag & Vagabond » topleft » You’re so vain- you probably think this blog is about you…

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