Wait.

"You're special enough on your own, you don't need some group to say you are"? Excuse me, did Chuck just become the show's moral compass?

Addendum to yesterday: An (old) Message from KW

Just found this on Dress Like Kanye West archives. One word: Priceless.

A message from kwest on Vimeo.

No joke, it reminds me of those promos professional wrestlers (WWE) who played heels/"bad guys" would cut for no other reason that to show, hilariously, how exaggeratedly douchey their personas can be.

Hey Kids! It's Stunt Like 'Ye Day!

Perusing industry news at work often leads to some strange, strange stuff.

Exhibit 1: Diesel promo for helmets. Includes a very un-PC moment that may surprise American viewers a bit -- then again, considering that Diesel's print ads feature anything from a bald fat guy licking a model's sneakered foot to a mostly-naked dude with a stuffed kitten in his briefs, an idea like this isn't so much of a stretch.



Also, because I can't seem to stop listening to "Baby By Me" -- only for the synth sounds in the background, mind you -- here's Fiddy teaming up with Steve Nash in a pretty funny Vitamin Water promo.

More hip-hop fun:

No Homer: 10 Hip-Hop and Rap Icons Simpsonized

See how many you manage to recognize -- without cheating by checking the picture file name.

Productive day today -- civil service exam, license renewed, and a few more extra hours in the afternoon to enjoy away from work. Kinda like a 2.25-day weekend, hah.

I'll close with this for the haters -- say what you will about his filter (or, lack thereof), but no matter how much he stunts, there's no denying that he puts in work.

Fictitious Fashion: "Mad Men" 's Duck Phillips & the Frankenstein three-piece

New idea: style-spotting for film/tv characters I come across. Once GG starts again, that will be plenty of reason for me to do a bunch of Chuck posts, unless the show's stylists continue to go down the drabbing-down route.

To kick things off, we have Herman "Duck" Phillips, played by Mark Moses on AMC's Mad Men, which--at its third season--just wrapped up a huge social-media and cross-promotional campaign in order to rise above the label of "the best show on TV you're not watching." This included not only a fashion tie-in with Banana Republic, but also oodles of interactive content on the official site, ranging from an application to build your own romping '60s MM avatar, to a hit-or-miss "Which Mad Men Are You?" quiz. (On my first try, I got Jane Siegel, who was like Don's third secretary or something. Go figure.)

Anyways. Marketing synopsis aside, here's Duck:

...and as you can see, Duck has a rather peculiar sartorial motif. Of course, everybody in the main MM cast has their trademarks:

• Don: Two-button sack suit in numerous shades of gray; dark skinny tie; all-in-one troubled/determined/I'm-hiding-something expression
• Roger: Dark three-piece, tie pin, permanent smirk of entitlement
• Pete: see Don, but substitute navy for gray
• Bert Cooper: bowtie, argyle socks, perpetual old-man wackiness

...all of which are agreeably classic looks. Then, you've got Duck and his...er...contrasting waistcoat...thing.

I suppose it's the same as wearing a cashmere sweater under a suit or sportcoat nowadays. Still, it's probably the only Mad Men look the major magazines have yet to condone....which only means the first to try it out will get added cool-kid bonus points. Go on, I dare ya.

Audition + " (500) D.o.S." + MoMA = Kind of a crazy day.

The Audition

I've always heard about two dueling generalizations about the personalities of those who work in showbiz/fashion. 1) They're supremely self-confident, thick-skinned people; they have to be in order to put themselves out there day after day. 2) They're some of the most insecure wrecks out there; who else needs or wants the kind of validation that only a camera can offer?

I shouldn't pretend to know any better; this morning was my first real, non-theater class/indie film school audition, but I didn't spend any of the waiting time networking with my fellow aspirants. Instead, I sat focused on concealing my awe of the roomful of 1) guys without a skin condition in sight, and 2) girls that were above my pay grade 5x over. And all for a Nintendo Wii commercial (there were maybe five people in the whole room of about 40 that look like the type who'd play video games).

I'd read up on some articles the night before, before realizing that--as much as I wanted to avoid it--I won't be able to look like I know what I'm doing. Instead, from the commute to the moment I stepped out of the studio, I kept a smile on based upon the fact that what I was doing was, by any stretch of the imagination, ludicrous. I had only two headshots, neither of which had my resume printed, and both putting my litany of acne-related scars on prominent display.

Despite leaving with a plentiful time cushion (for navigating the unfamiliar part of SOMA/bus route) and arriving 15 minutes before the scheduled time, there were already a good 20 models ahead of me. I'd read about the importance of networking at these things the night before; sure enough, friendly chitchat could be heard all over the room, and even though there were a handful of patiently-silent waiting types like myself around, everyone seem to know each other, from a million other studios and waiting rooms in some other nondescript warehouse. Even when I stepped up to the CD's table when I was called, a girl half-greeted me before politely realizing she didn't know me.

The go-see itself was only about 45 seconds; the girl nearest after me on the call sheet (thankfully, more pint-sized than me) and I stood up on Wii Fit pads and shadowboxed at the camera while laughing like it was the time of our lives. When we left, we were going the same way for a good block before she turned the corner. No small talk. No acknowledgement. No indication that we've just shared a common experience except for our identical, mandated tank top/shorts/flip-flops uniform. All the friendly chatter doesn't change this fundamental fact:

At the end of the day, everyone else wants what you want, but not all of you can have it.

"(500) Days of Summer"

I had only planned to walk through the Metreon & Yerba Buena Garden to get to the MoMA. But I was ahead of schedule on the day's itinerary, and I'd heard plenty about this movie being the romcom "for guys", "for real people", "for people who hate romcoms", all the usual indie press. Plus, it was still before noon; when else was I going to be at a theater this early & able to get in for only six bones? The previews, incidentally, showed quite a few projects with cute casts coming up, Drew Barrymore's "Whip It!" being tops among them.

I can see how this movie spoke to people, specifically the Gen-Yers whose insecurity-checkered and ambiguous relationships that pass for modern romance the movie encapsulates. Do real-life relationships start that awkwardly? Yes. Do they deteriorate, decline, and eventually crumble because of the same undiscernible, indescribable, and ultimately ridiculous-on-paper reasons? Yes. And though it highlights all of these things that should reinforce my half-serious resolution of not attempting to involve myself with anyone until I find a real job, it still managed to make me feel like I was missing out on something. (And it wasn't the dialogue, since the sole example of witty romcom banter I picked out was using "I'm unemployed" to describe the state of not getting any).

Still, aside from that setback, I enjoyed the fact that all the laughs in the theatre came at times that could only suggest they were laughs of the knowing, of those who realize they've been down that road of awkward before. Oh, and Joe Gordon-Levitt looks great in skinny suits and cardigans. All in all, not a bad two-hour investment.

MoMA/Avedon

By the time I finally walked across the YB Garden, my body was beginning to remember that it had only slept about 4 hours the night before last. A huge line wrapped around the block to the left even though it was Free Tuesday; I found it strange that there were that many people who would know whow Avedon was, before realizing that another special exhibition of Georgia O'Keefe and Ansel Adams was also running, and that - hey! - people who would come to museums in the first place probably know a famous artist or two.

My ticket wouldn't let me in until after 3, so I had a solid hour to wander about the other floors. The following realizations/thoughts came to in pretty quick succession:
1) I don't really "get" modern art.
2) There are a LOT of attractive, nervous-*gulp*-warranting girls here.
3) How am I supposed to contemplate and fish for inspiration with all the hot women around?

Fortunately, I was still thinking clearly enough to pick a few things out. (I claim no ownership of the following photos, don't sue me pretty please.)
Things I learned at the museum today:

• In the spirit of the afternoon's film: the heart is a chaotic yet splendidly colorful place.
• Damien Hirst's butterflies can be just as showy as his crystal-skull stuff, just on a smaller scale, and without dominating an entire room.
• Even if he's a drifter, a man can put on a well-cut shirt & jacket, and achieve instant respectability. Those pockmarks hidden away in the freckles could've easily come from syphilis or something similarly distasteful. but combine it with the outfit, and the distinctive eyes, and you can easily get away with some melodramatic characterization like "a lifetime written all over his face."

Don't know if I can even enjoy this ironically.

Take 1 part of the worst of early-millennial, trashy-materialism hip-hop, add 1 part Christian metalcore/screamo? band, and you get...a most "inconceivable!" combination.

Carpe the moment...or rational sleep.

As much as I've been trying to push myself towards a "early to bed, early to rise" schedule, I find more and more that I do my best work near or after the midnight hour. Often, I have some sort of breakthrough epiphany around 1 am, try to jot it down in bullet points for the sake of later elaboration, only to lose the excitement of the inner discovery the following morning. Maybe a flash of brilliance, or what may be confused for it, is worth a frantic scramble with five minutes to get to work the next morning.


Miles by jmniu featuring g-star jeans

Outfit post for the time being...I'm secretly hoping that the middle school kids I'm helping to teach this afternoon will at least have some silent appreciation of the color use.

Beginning of an End

Ah, first day of the last two months of undergrad. Highlight: squeezing cardio and lifting into the two hours before class. Not cool: going in for a haircut that I didn't even really need, and leaving with basically the Mao Zedong Mushroom minus the male-pattern baldness. -_-bb

But, I did find time to pick up my Gilt.com purchases--namely, a Hyden Yoo sweater and a pair of A. Testoni loafers that, while being too good a deal to pass up, are far, far too nice for my age and surroundings. I'll be worthy in 3-5 years, maybe. In the meantime...maybe the market value will appreciate.

Here's the outfit posting of the day, as inspired by the catch-up Gossip Girl I watched last night & its sheer abundance of shawl-collar cashmere sweaters.


"Welcome to the Next 30 Years" - by jmniu on Polyvore.com

Polyvore Experiment

As the days of cleaning out sophomore-year homework and pondering over my fledgling portfolio comes to an end, I've finally gotten around to fiddling with the nifty collaging tool millions in the blogosphere are already taking advantage of to add more visual punch to their posts. I'm not terribly impressed with it so far--it often fails to import photos I want for no apparent reason, even when it's static and not one of the numerous Java-enabled product photos that zoom in and out you see on so many shopping sites nowadays.

For that matter, the outfit I chose to do isn't anything revolutionary--I've done better at the summer-prep thing before. Still, it's a simple start, and the red works well for both attending a Chinese function and for pairing with Jack Purcells & skinny denim for a look that's all Rob Lowe circa 1985.

Incidentally, I found out that the JP's I got at Jeremy's on sale--as a spare pair of white sneakers--are actually current-season. What what?


American Minimal - by jmniu on Polyvore.com

Ralph Lauren F09

Just as prime-time TV's poster boy of prep has steadily shed his earlier propensity for loud, punchy uses of color, the bastion of prep design seems to continue its back-to-basics approach to reconciling inherently colorful prep design with the somber tone of our times.

As a matter of fact, the collection as a whole was a trifle *too* monochromatic for the tastes of yours truly--an abundance of earth tones and black/dark navy, with nary a gray-and-pastel combo in sight. Guess I'll have to check elsewhere for matching suggestions for my forthcoming new gray cardigan.

In any case, here are a couple of the very few items that carried on the proud prep tradition of always wearing exactly one item that says, "go to hell." I have yet to figure out a way to pull off the cardigan-as-blazer trick without it looking gimmicky--the main thing is finding a sweater that will still be functional enough to work in ensembles where it is not the main component.

Reading: A. Cicolini - The New English Dandy

Inspiration: it always strikes when one least expects it, and when one is least predisposed to exploit it. So I discovered, to my pleasant surprise, this 2005 gem of a coffee-table book right here at the university Main Stacks library over the weekend whilst searching for something else to do a history of business paper on besides 19th-century industrialists compared with Russia's oil/mining oligarchs.

It's got a lot of interesting things to say, as far as drawing a more accurate picture of dandyism in the modern age than what most could presuppose on their own. It articulates something I've been meaning to express: in an age where casual streetwear has become the de rigeur uniform of the young, it is those who are looking to classic staples of tailored jackets, shirts, and the like, who are interpreting them anew through unique combinations of colors and patterns, that are infusing creativity into daily aesthetics and rescuing us from monotony.

Here in California, where the cultural emphasis is on a careless, relaxed attitude, the propensity for hoodie-and-jeans banality is even more clearly visible. What most accept as "dressing up" here at university is usually a joyless effort, entailing a boxy, bland three-button jacket cut too high, paired with an unremarkable printed tie, thick-soled square shoes, with no more texture than a sheet of copy paper. Add a backpack, and you begin to get an idea of the campus' approach to suit-wearing.

[This is where I might articulate a grandiose bit of self-justification for "rebelling" through blackwatch plaid jackets and bow ties, but putting such sentiments into words, locking them in, would ruin the purpose of outfitting in the first place.]

I think I'd rather leave the capricious critiquing of "bad style" to the GQ and Details editors; as much as I love their work, their constant jonesing for a new phenomenon to define, elevate, and subsequently critique in three months' time does wear on my patience. There's nothing wrong about trying things you identify with or aspire to, so long as you know to move on when it begins to bore you or clash with how you see and feel about yourself.

LA Express

Sugarcult - "Los Angeles"

Been listening on this one for a while...haven't been to LA in some time, but this song, to me, captures the mystique of it all, the vague patheticness of standing in lines and waiting rooms to pitch headshots to crap-shoot gigs, the heat, the knowing, doomed, world-weariness that completes so many people's sense of what it's all about.

Resonance

"In an era of stress and anxiety, when the present seems unstable and the future unlikely, the natural response is to retreat and withdraw from reality, taking recourse either in fantasies of the future or in modified visions of a half-imagined past."

3-pc Debut!

This is rare for me, but I'm extra-excited today because in just two hours, the KMJ Group--our mock consultancy--will be making its debut presentation on Burt's Bees in our Marketing class! To suit the occasion, and because I'm loaning the jacket of my darker suit for one of the other group members, I'm finally wearing the grey 3-piece I bought back during winter break (and I finally found a suit-tie combo that doesn't look awful). Can't wait! Now, back to rehearsing.

YES.

Apparently, this 88 Keys guy -- Brooklynite musician, Kanye collaborator, and self-proclaimed "Lo-Head" has worn nothing but RL Polo blue label for something like 8 years.

...needless to say, I feel much better about my RL obsession now.

Let it come down, and wash away the miasma that has clouded our judgment.

Enjoying the weekend storm safely indoors. I awoke literally sick to my stomach, after about two days of moping due to the idea that my transferable-skills approach to the past three and a half years of my university education has culminated in the most disappointing way. "Just because you majored in it doesn't mean it's what you'll do!" "Pick something you like, and the rest takes care of itself!" In hindsight: it doesn't. Even now, I carry this vague idea of who I want to be, without actually fleshing out the details. I was probably the last person anyone would bet on being a slacker, and yet here I am. I chose one of the most vaguely describable majors on the menu, knowing full well that I disliked a lack of clarity. What does a communications major do? I still couldn't tell you, other than the same tripe about analyzing how media affects society and vice versa, the same sentence I've uttered a million times, like the directions to the University Hall visitor parking lot, the same exact thing that make you cringe as they come out of your mouth, that don't go any easier when you try to reword it in some fresh new way.

Outside, the rain carried on, without any sign of hesitation. Nature didn't have the problem of self-doubt, hesitation that froze into inaction; it had a singular purpose in its actions, whether it was to recycle condensation back to terra firma or to move excessively inconvenient pockets of air across the land. Inside, things were still. Maybe I'd imagined that it would've been pleasant to listen to this with someone else. But some things are not meant for sharing. Sharing is what you do with commonly enjoyable things that are accepted readily, like party invitations, and cheap beer. This bit of stillness, of quiet but steady solace, in all its lengthened brevity, belongs to me. Alone.

Watchmen footage

"hrmph".

Dutch films + moar rain

My morning kicked off with marketing lecture about different ways of data gathering and quantitative analysis, and then a guest speaker from Marketech (I think that's the right link) gave an informative presentation of the step-by-step process of a marketing consulting project. Braved the torrential downpour to run some errands...bank, post office, tailoring pick-up...ooh and pasta carbonara for dinner, finally, after Mad Science decal. I feel like I can still be better at making friends in that class...one especially........but for now I think I'll stick to keeping my smile quotient up and leave it at that.

Oh and I watched this today...I'm not that into foreign films but it seems like I finally have to patience for a few lately...for a 2hr+ movie it was definitely well-paced and didn't feel like a chore. Plus, it doesn't hurt that the lead actress (who was also in Valkyrie...side note, this movie shares about 90% of it principal cast with said film) is ridiculously attractive. Rawr rawr rawr.

Song for the Day

The Lonely Island CD (aka Andy Samberg's Greatest Hits) came out today. Here's my personal favorite:



I predict some glowing reviews: rarely do comic albums actually sound good as music.

New Semester

...So after about two months on the waiting list, I finally scored the sartorial grail of the year:




Yep, yours truly is now a proud J.Press Patchwork Scarf owner. One caveat: those tassels down at the ends--total shite. I thought my scarf was shedding strings nonstop until I finally realized the knots they were tied in weren't glued or in any way secured, just coming undone as they please. Of course, I'm none too pleased about that, but it's a small hiccup for the great perk of looking fly like the motherChucker himself.

I also ordered the cricket sweater from the last post for Christmas...only to have FedEx fail me by leaving it at the door of my apartment, resulting in its disappearance and a month-long game of tag with FedEx and RL Rugby reps trying to get my money back. As for the Chesterfield coat thing...I decided my two coats from Topman was enough. Maybe another season.

Got most of my tailoring back too...so between here and May it's all about paying off those holiday CC bills...yikes. Apart from that...new roommate, new classes (all Haas...hopefully...no more dancing around semiotics and feminist cultural critiques...), and new focus. Can't complain.

Though my navy blazer's still being worked on, it looks like it's headed for heavy rotation in my wardrobe this spring. RL's S/S show was all back to preppy staples...and for a style rooted in classics, that can only mean one thing:

Lots. and lots. of navy.

This was pretty much the theme for the whole show: navy on the outside, some variation of white with red/blue detailing on the inside. I highly doubt that jacket/sweater vest/shirt combo would function well here on the West Coast though...another reason to value these last couple months of winter chills.

Now, back to marketing/int'l business homework.