Back in early 2012, the Times Style section tried to convince us of the coming of the "man bun" to Brooklyn. It was too early and it was really a stretch: For famous cases, they had to rely on tennis players "Alexandr Dolgopolov and Xavier Malisse." (And Malisse was more prone to wear an actual ponytail.) The man bun, they helpfully defined, is "similar in form to the topknot worn by many women… but it is often worn slightly lower on the head."
A generation of spiders is entering the world and the workforce unprepared. What do we do about the spiders?
• More so than previous generations, spiders incubated in beauty and comfort and spaciousness unknown to their parents at that age. —Word that 6 million spiders are not working or studying comes as no surprise to anyone with a spider in the basement.
• Many spiders told us that they often worried about being able to pay for dates, while others were still trying to figure out whether they'd [...]
I am a dumb writer, perhaps one of the dumbest that's ever lived. Whenever I have an idea, I question myself whether it is sufficiently dumb. I ask myself, is it possible that this, in any way, could be considered smart? If the answer is no, I proceed. I don't write anything new or original. I copy pre-existing texts and move information from one place to another. A child could do what I do, but wouldn't dare to for fear of being called stupid.Tonight Kenneth Goldsmith will appear on The Colbert Report. This year he has been the Museum of Modern Art's first poet laureate, [...]
"It's a trend—thanks to peer pressure, and the Internet."
A woman who works in finance and lives in Fort Greene recently got three chickens to keep in her backyard so that she could eat fresh eggs every morning. Yesterday, she was walking her kid to school when she heard someone shout, "Hey, how are the chickens?" She looked across the street and saw a man waving, but she didn't recognize him. She was a little freaked out. Until another woman, ten feet ahead of her on the sidewalk, also walking a child to school, turned and waved to the man and said, "They're doing great!" Brooklyn.
1. Naming baby girls "Layla," "Leila" or "Lila."
2. Menus written in chalk on walls of restaurants
3. Conversations about how mosquitos seem to be around longer this year
4. INXS songs on the radio
THIS IS THE PERFECT TREND STORY! This is IT. It is about how young gay men are "increasingly" (!!!) becoming "sugar babies" to pay for college! Let us break down how it works!
• "Kirk is hardly alone in his decision to sell sex in order to pay for school." (Just alone so far in this story but hey, we get more anecdotes later!)
• "An increasing number of gay male students"
• "In addition to a lackluster job market"
• "While young gay men exchanging sex for money certainly predated the financial collapse"
It was Christmas Day, my last day in Thailand, and I was looking for something to make my trip extra special. I roamed the streets of Chiang Mai, listening to Drake’s “The Motto” on my iPod, and I thought about how great those last few weeks had been, and how great the last few months had been in general. After four years on and off in New York City, I had made the decision to move to South Korea to teach English. Making the decision had been rough, and I had a hard time coming to terms with leaving the city. Brunches on Saturdays, partying in the evenings, smoking [...]
In which we discover things in our work chatroom.
A Man: My roomgirl works at [REDACTED] so just killing time before I go to an all-you-can-eat sushi place.
Choire: …so that's what they're calling it now.
Another Man: Wait. What's a roomgirl, is that like a wife… or a Roomba.
A Man: Roommate-girlfriend, which is different than girlfriend you live with.
Choire: It's all about Which Came First.
Another Man: Still confusedddd.
A Man: Right. So if you room with someone and make the mistake of marrying them they are forever a RoomPerson.
Another Man: Oh! I'm doing a similar thing: my now-girlfriend was a roommate first but [...]
Not long ago, I was at a dinner with the chief executive of a large bank. Not long ago, a woman in Tacoma, Wash., received a suggestion from Facebook that she "friend" another woman. Not long ago, I sent a dozen friends an electronic invitation to a party.
If you asked me to describe the rising philosophy of the day, I'd say it is data-ism.
For $259, this tiny thermal printer will live on your desk and print out things like your friends' Foursquare checkins and a black and white version of the Instagram photo of the day. Seriously, coming in October: "Connected to the Web, Little Printer has wide range of sources available to check on your behalf. We call them 'publications.'" Oh do you. Superb coinage. Anyway, you know I am susceptible to the ridiculous and the handmade and even the adorable, so I wouldn't particularly mind living in an alternate universe where there are zeppelins and tiny printers on our desks that spit out news twice a day. That's CUTE. (Also, I [...]
"Artisanal, a word that fought early in his career to ensure recognition of craftsmen for their important contributions to society before later being drafted into the creation of a worldwide gourmet branding glut, died Wednesday at his brownstone in Brooklyn overlooking a small gourmet mayonnaise store."
When I moved from Wisconsin to the Lower East Side in January, I quickly discovered my deep Midwest roots were very uncool. After a few smirks and condescending remarks about how I must be feeling “culture shock” in the big city, I learned not to broadcast the fact that I was raised and educated in, as our license plates proudly proclaim, America’s Dairyland.
It wasn’t always easy. When my date at Max Fish ordered a can of PBR, I didn’t tell him that my grandpa and his VFW friends considered it treason to drink anything that hadn’t been bottled in Milwaukee. When my neighbor wore a Green Bay Packer jersey [...]
"Nothing is certain but death and taxes" and, since 2007, "trend pieces about miracle fruit parties." Oh yes: "The miracle fruit party" is the trend piece that just won't die, despite that there have likely been more feature stories about miracle fruit parties than there have been actual miracle fruit parties.
The Wall Street Journal went big in 2007 with an A1 story that explained that the berries are "a slightly tart West African berry with a strange property: For about an hour after you eat it, everything sour tastes sweet." Then NPR couldn't wait to tell all of their listeners about it. The New York [...]
I suppose the only question I have left is whether or not deliberately quoting "a bearded, tattoo-covered 30-year-old who lives in East Williamsburg and sells $400 Japanese raw denim jeans for a living" provides enough of a knowing wink to offer inoculation against the cries of "trollery" you are so brazenly eliciting. I mean, it's a neat trick if it does, I guess.
News curmudgeons relish blaming the internet for things they don’t like, a pastime that is maddening, a little sad, and just ironic. These people who fetishize print media's past are often selective in their memories of it.
For instance, BuzzFeed didn't invent coverage of silly animals, and it certainly didn't invent native advertising—that is, advertising with a narrative structure that mirrors surrounding editorial content. (You might also call this “sponsored content" or “advertorial.")
"We start trends in New York. Spring and summer 2013 is all about the dog tattoo."
Kidult summer trends! Unrelated but intriguing. First, all the new mens' suits are shiny all of a sudden—made of wool and silk, shiny is the new, uh, not shiny. So buy some shiny suits that will be wildly out of vogue in two years. Second, it's the summer of the "sophisticated slushie." Which, you'll be wanting one come Wednesday. You can blame Pok Pok for a lot of things—for being the most impossible no-reservations place in Brooklyn to actually eat at, for starters. (Today's New Yorker calls it "dining as sport" and "an exhausting game.") You can also blame them for the beer slushie: their "old-school, low-tech [...]
On a recent Sunday, the crowd at the Brooklyn Flea was dangerously under-caffeinated. Blue Bottle Coffee, the only coffee vendor at the popular flea market, had just that weekend decamped, with little fanfare, until spring. The marble counter where their coffee wares were usually arrayed sat empty. The crowd—the weekend shoppers for costume jewelry and vintage iron-on decals—became indignant when told that they would have to go across the street—to a Starbucks—to get their caffeine fix. “Are you serious?!” a woman demanded of the hapless cupcake vendor who had the misfortune to have a spot next door. “Yes, I’m serious,” he replied, affecting the blankness of an airline representative [...]
The best part of the GET READY FOR GAY DIVORCE stories are the anecdotes, like this couple who shared "a love of fur coats and gold jewelry": "The two are now in the messy process of untangling their lives—a web that has grown to include four purebred Rhodesian Ridgebacks, three houses, and one financially dependent parent." (Instead of letting them get gay-divorced, couldn't we just exile them to Antarctica? Won't someone think of the Ridgebacks?) Anyway, gay divorce: pro or con? Totally pro, right?