Who Pays $600 for Jeans? Not Cole Slaw Blog. Again proving that the Times is not just for smarties, this article presently is the most-emailed piece in today's paper. It depicts unimaginative people who think they need to distinguish themselves via bluejeans, most notably one Ms. Colette Leonard, who claims she wears jeans twice a day and needs to stand out from the other girls.
In what may be a credible effort to point out the lameness of the haute jean phenomenon (which we never knew existed, but hey, no one with an ounce of self-preservation would come to us for fashion advice) the Times includes the following:
Both the surfeit and the numbing sameness of goods on the market have conspired to produce a nascent cult of connoisseurship, experts like Mr. Brown say. In this new marketing sphere, even ordinary objects can be told apart by consumers whose extreme discernment becomes a subtle way of signaling status. Like Luis Buñuel's Tristana, Mr. Brown's new niche consumer can see three peas on a plate and know instantly which is the best.
"Every consumer decision now carries with it class and status implications in a way it didn't used to," said Barry Schwartz, the author of "The Paradox of Choice: Why More is Less" (Ecco Books, 2005). "As you add dimensions to goods, you add ways in which people can distinguish themselves." Thus is created a perpetual chase after status and cool.
In other words, these people are no better than the mall-wandering zombies in George Romero's 1978 zombie masterpiece Dawn of the Dead. Consumers are automatons, doing exactly what they're told, and willingly manipulated into spending outrageous sums of money for crap they don't need. Dear assholes: take your exorbitant income and write a check to the charity of Jeffrey Sachs's choosing.
By accident, this article teaches a profound lesson: they sure as hell don't hate us for our freedom.
Making Sure the Shoe Fits. This article is easily summarized. People want sneakers that fit. Thanks, Stephanie Rosenbloom.
Going With the Flow. This article is not targeted toward Cole Slaw Blog but that doesn't mean we can't hate on it. In direct contrast to a previous piece, writer Ruth La Ferla asserts that women are eschewing jeans for "big skirts." Cole Slaw Blog isn't sure what this means, except that the next time one of us Frenches a lady, she probably will be dressed like Little House on the Prairie.
Simple Store to Clear Your Mind, and Your Wallet, or, as Cole Slaw Blog calls it, simple article to clear your mind and your self-respect. We're going for a very simple critique here by ripping the shit out of the first sentence in the nut graf: "For the rarefied crowd that fits these guidelines, the Stella McCartney store in the meatpacking district must be a kind of paradise."
This assertion comes after a lengthy and elaborate description of said crowd and said guidelines, a demographic that makes us puke. Why, Alex Kuczynski (not to be confused with beloved Ninth Circuit judge Alex Kozinski) must you speculate? Why can't you speak to that rarefied crowd, and harvest quotes from that rarefied crowd? For surely, if they "must" find this store "a kind of paradise," their euphoria would be ringing through that third circle of hell known as the Meatpacking District.
But you don't even try, Alex. You don't even try because you're lazy. You're lazy, and you write for an insipid publication.
Losing Patience, Not Weight. This is actually a semi-serious article that belongs in a health section. To make sure that it talks down to its audience, the Times places it in Thursday Styles and begins by describing its lead subject as short and fat. Way to dumb down a major health issue, you tools.
It's a Boy: 228 Pound and 6-foot-3. This is a UPN series in the making. What happens when a 26-year-old dude with a bitchin' Anthrax goatee is officially adopted by his appreciative stepfather? Heartwarming anecdotes.
Cast Jodie Sweetin and Dave Coulier and we're in clover.
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