A Shabbier World
I’m working on a project relating to the collapse of the core professions (for reasons I’ll elaborate, law and banking are undergoing a sharp and sudden step-function collapse; and medicine and consulting have been trending downward for a while at a smoother, steadier pace), and thoughts inevitably turn to shifting opportunity costs and the broader cultural implications. The impact on the marriage market has been discussed, albeit in a fairly crude and linear manner. For a moment, though, let’s consider the aesthetic dimension.
The disruption of bourgeois expectations — plus the general reluctance to replace durable goods, plus the turn from owner-occupied housing to rental housing, plus a decrease in spending on maintaining and manicuring all things — will probably have the effect of making everything and everyone a bit shabbier. Because shmanciness is a positional good, the shmanciness arms race will be replaced by multilateral shmanciness disarmament. Perhaps people will be smellier. That’s an unpleasant thought. We’ll be walking around with ice cream stains on our shirts. Lint brushes will become an unaffordable luxury, and we’ll all be covered in a thin layer of downy animal fur and dead skin. I agree: this is gnarly. Yet there is also an upside: we can all get away with a slightly higher degree of grooming laziness. Also, I tend to think that a degree of sloth and shabbiness highlights the best kinds of beauty, e.g., kinds that involve ratty cords and jean shorts. (This might be generational.)
Then again, people might invest more in masking their smell, as dousing yourself in perfume might offer more bang for the aesthetic buck than various pricier alternatives, e.g., botox, footie pajamas made from platinum, etc. I recently bought this “premium accord” that smells like pumpkin pie. But that’s just because I love pie. Another scenario: if you think of occupational status competition as a form of asymmetrical positional warfare — with symmetrical warfare understood as competition along the “traditional” dimensions of masculinity and femininity, etc. — grooming might take on added importance as people find it harder to trade occupational prestige for square jaws or gamineness.
I’m pretty sure my brain is malfunctioning due to exhaustion. I’ll leave you with one extremely important, unrelated observation: Micachu|the Shapes have released a really, really amazing album. If this is what the future sounds like, I’m thrilled. I saw them at Southby and my brain melted. The lead looks very young and frail, which is a little unsettling. Last year, a prominent music blog made an apposite comparison to St. Vincent, though I think Micachu has a far wider conceptual palette. She also has a beautiful name — Mica Levi. I bought the album right when it came out on the 7th, but have mainly been processing the new Thermals and Bat for Lashes, Adrian Orange, and Bitte Orca (which I intend to discuss at greater length). While running, I listened to Jewellery straight through. The album is very short, which is a good thing as I haven’t been running for a while. It could be that the weather primed me to enjoy the music — there was a pleasant drizzle, and I felt pleasantly soggy. One wonders about how the atmosphere shapes how we react to different sounds. Micachu layers a lot of sharp sounds on top of each other, and the lead has a breezy, clipped voice. You hear muffled shouts in the background occasionally. No track runs longer than about 3.5 minutes, which suits me perfectly. The album is an absolute delight. “Lips” is pretty representative, though somewhat rougher-hewn than my favorite songs from the album. I’ve decided that my favorite musical motif is the stutter-step, which figures prominently. “Turn Me Well” and “Ship” evoke the music I loved in high school, but it’s much better.
And right after Micachu, in my Recently Added tracks, I have The Parliaments’ “A New Day Begins,” which is a pretty inspiring tune. I recommend it. It is also densely layered. For a second I thought this was a Micachu track.
Well…….however shabby it may become, it is still a better world for having you in it Reihan.
You have broadened my narrow emo/punk dungeon of musical taste to include so many elegantly eclectic alternatives.
— matoko_chan · Apr 20, 03:58 AM · #
This post set off a zillion little starbursts in my head. A couple of thoughts as (for me) mental bookmarks. Make of them what you will:
I have a vivid recollection from the Winter of 2002 of being tailgated in my Honda Civic on the Napegue stretch by a giant black BMW. A just a couple of years earlier this would been a source of some smugness. “Ha ha, you dumb fuck. I’m already here, so I’m not in a hurry.” But by February of 2002 I hadn’t cashed a paycheck in more than half a year, we had abandoned our midtown office, and we were renting our city apartment to make ends meet. My smugness had given way to something considerably more corrosive.
I have a no less vivid memory of being about 1/2 mile off the beach in a small plywood dory of my own construction, surrounded by literally tens of millions of dollars of recreational fishing hardware. All though it doesn’t make any sort scientific sense, I have no doubt that the fluke I caught fought harder and tasted better than the fluke being caught by the other boats.
Christmas of 1976 my parents got me a Morey Boogie Board. It cost $50. A couple years later I bought myself a pair of Churchill Makapu flippers for the princely sum of $39.95
A year or two ago I came across a Sear catalog circa 1973. IIRC, a circular saw cost about $25.
My wife just ordered mail ordered a small fruit orchard; mostly for pleasure, but also as a hedge against black swan scenarios.
My wife started buying lots of used baby clothes on eBay, but now she buys clothes for herself that way too. Aside from the savings (which is considerable) she also found that it’s a great way to get out of her own “style rut.”
An odd thing about the idiosyncratic community in which we live is that among the entrepreneurial class, it not at all uncommon (and maybe even more common) for wives to be better educated than their husbands.
My best friend says she needs three husbands and says she would much rather have three husbands than a new washer/drier. (Maybe she should move to China.)
Speaking of, Chinese magnates are not the only people who become more sentimental with the passage of time.
I feel like I could roll this all together with Peter’s post about video games and Clarrise Thorn’s post about the regrets she has about her “sex-positive” upbringing. But I’m probably going to have to mow my lawn another two or three times for it to all come together. As it’s April, I’ll probably have it all thought out by later this afternoon.
— Tony Comstock · Apr 20, 12:50 PM · #
First thought: not consulting, anything but consulting. Second thought: hipsterism is just a bridge loan in the Unwashed, Yet Okay business.
— James · Apr 20, 01:17 PM · #
Oh oh oh! James’ comment just brought this to mind!
A few years ago we got this fantastic Borsch ice cream maker on close-out on discount table at the back of William Sonoma. It’s got this doubled-walled bowl that’s filled with anti-freeze which you put in the freezer and it gets really really cold. Then you dump your ice cream ingredients into it and snap on the electric mixing paddle and 10 minutes later — viola! Homemade ice cream, which in late July means homemade peach ice cream. Much much easier than the whole rock salt hand crank method! Of course, because it’s homemade it melts very fast. I’ve ruined more than one shirt.Add this, along with Noah’s sidedishes, to cw’s post defeat BBQ!
— Tony Comstock · Apr 20, 01:56 PM · #
Was I defeated and then not invited to the barb-bq? I didn’t evenknow I was defeated, OR that there was a bar-bq. Isn’t rubbing salt into the wounds of this type counter to the ethci of TAS? Was it becasue I’m more towards the unwashed end of the space time contiuuuuum? And if so, how could you tell? Is is present in my comments. DO they reek? You’ve got me all flustered.
— cw · Apr 20, 05:56 PM · #
“Was I defeated and then not invited to the barb-bq?”
I’m afraid the first part of this gets into metaphysic. If your defeat is inevitable, then are you already defeated? I don’t know the answer. Maybe if there’s a Calvinist in residence…
I do know you are most definitely invited, because as the vanquished party, it falls to you to provide beer and fish for the grill, which I hope will be accompanied by Noah’s most excellent side dishes and topped off by homemade ice cream. (Though given our Summer plans, it looks more likely to be raspberry or strawberry ice cream than peach ice cream.)
But whatever the fruit or berry, don’t wear one of your good shirts.
— Tony Comstock · Apr 20, 08:23 PM · #
So you’re saying I am not yet defeated. Like the Utah Jazz, I still have a chance. This is excellent news. Now I just need to know who I’m playing and what the topic is.
— cw · Apr 20, 09:36 PM · #
“I just need to know who I’m playing and what the topic is.”
I had posted the challenge in a comment on a previous thread, and thought you were merely being coy. But now that I check back, it’s gone. Upon what sort of of crackerjack prize server are you all running this Most Important Blog?
At any rate: The race is around Block Island and back; me and my girls in our sloop; you in your hollow tooth with your soothing fantasies. I’d say I’m looking forward to laughing at how your crew manages with sail handling, but we’re going to be so far ahead of you we won’t be able to see — not even with binoculars.
The fish out here is is good, but pricey. I’m not a beer snob, so please don’t feel compelled to spend more than you want to for suds. If it’s not contrary to Noah’s dietary observances, I’ll dig some clams.
— Tony Comstock · Apr 20, 10:43 PM · #
Calvinists love BBQs.
— c.t.h. · Apr 20, 11:20 PM · #
Tony: I roast my own coffee. Any time you’re in Carolina….
Reihan, James hit it. I don’t claim to know what the “core professions” are — I’d think, farmer, carpenter, soldier, crap like that — but, please God, don’t let anyone include “consultant.” And I remember long, long ago a study of aphrodisiac smells wehich discovered only one statistically significant one: pumpkin pie. To which, duh.
Me, I’m listening, somewhat embarassedly, to “Five Peace Band.”
— Sanjay · Apr 20, 11:27 PM · #
OK. Now I get it. I lose valuable comments here all the time. Or rather—as I think I may have pointed out before—it’s the TAS readers who lose when my comments disappear.
But I can’t race you with my hollow tooth. When I bite that tooth I will be journeying to a sweeter and more just world, a world where I am a god. So I’ll probably be pretty busy.
WHere do you live in conneticut? My uncle lives in Stonington. He was telling me about fishing for fluke.
— cw · Apr 21, 12:26 AM · #
c.t.h.: We’ll be burning fish, not witches
Sanjay: As it happens, a year ago to the day we were anchored up at Belhaven. I’d‘ve gladly come ashore for a cup of home-roasted, and wouldn’t have been shy about asking if you could spare a pound for rest of our journey!
cw: They don’t let people like me in CT.
— Tony Comstock · Apr 21, 12:51 AM · #