Free Market Friday

During the past few weeks there’s been a minor Internet kerfuffle over the reputed hiring practices of the hipster clothing label American Apparel.  According to documents obtained and published by Jezebel, the women’s site of the Gawker Media network, the company has spent years intentionally hiring only hipster-hot employees (male and female) to work in its stores, which sell clothes that only fit skinny people.  If you’re chubby or wear New Balances or wire-frame glasses, sorry, but AA doesn’t want you.

Personally, while the aesthete in me appreciates the label’s preference for solid colors and fairly simple items of clothing, I’m too big and preppy to adopt AA’s orthodox look, nor do I want to.  And despite being a twenty-eight-year-old heterosexual male who hopes always to see as much of as many pretty girls as possible, I find their raunchy ad campaigns kind of gross.   By all appearances the company’s founder, Dov Charney, is greedy, pompous, and more than a bit lecherous.  American Apparel’s whole media campaign has always been brazenly, unapologetically about using the exposed skin of slender young people with interesting hair to sell slim-fit clothing.

Which is to say, the company operates like pretty much every other clothing line on earth, from Old Navy to whatever gets strutted around on runways in Milan.  Models are always physically attractive humans; even outlier types of models–e.g. “plus-size” women–have better faces and skin tones and hair than most people.  99% of us couldn’t make it as professional clothes-wearers.  We don’t look right for the part.  The young people who work retail in any chic clothing store are the “in-house” models–whatever else they do while on the clock is secondary to their main purpose, which is to visually contribute to the general aura of coolness/hipness/whatever the label is trying to gin up.

This is exactly how it should be.  American Apparel’s policy truly would be scandalous if it were based on the sort of essentialist discrimination that has long been established as culturally poisonous and destructive (misogyny, homophobia, racism, things like that).  If they sold exploding oil rigs (for example), they would also deserve legal scrutiny.  And if AA were a public institution, hiring people based on looks and sartorial taste would be not be OK: you can’t defensibly argue that Elena Kagan isn’t hot enough for the Supreme Court.  But American Apparel is a private, for-profit company.  They sell a particular brand of style–a “look”–which is clearly organized around a particular type of bodily appearance.  That is what clothing retailers do.  It’s what one must do in order to have a shot at becoming a profitable, taste-making designer.  This has always been the case.  If you don’t like how American Apparel does what it does, then don’t buy anything there.  You can even tell everyone you know how lame they are (and their policy is pretty sad, albeit realistic).  But don’t pretend that they are  accountable to some nebulous cultural standard or that how a private T-shirt company structures its business model is a huge public matter which threatens to undo the achievements of feminism.  They aren’t and it’s not.

It is also hypocritical of Jezebel to push this critique.  Their website’s tagline is “Celebrity, Sex, Fashion for Women” (which would be annoying even if it were grammatical).  Each day they post dozens of high-res pictures of and stories about movie stars, famous designers, models, and crap like that.  Hey, guys: HOLLYWOOD AND NYC FASHION WEEK RUN ON THE SAME PRINCIPLES AS AMERICAN APPAREL.  If you don’t complain when Brad Pitt gets cast ahead of Paul Giamatti, then you have to leave Dov Charney’s creepy brand alone, too.

-TGR

The British are (still) Coming

It is almost certainly accurate to say that in both the U.S. and Britain there is roughly the same ratio of reasonably educated, cosmopolitan people to dull, parochial ones (the kind some pedants still call “philistines”).  Hugely disparate population sizes aside, there is probably an even richer variety of cultural activity in the U.S., which is, after all, one of the most ethnically, geographically, politically, and socially heterogeneous countries on earth.  We haven’t been a backwater colony for a long time, and all one needs to do to silence any haters is point to someone like Emily Dickinson or Miles Davis.  Sure, American culture exports a lot of shit.  So does any culture.  The British are the reason we have reality TV.

So why do many Americans, myself included, continue to assume, almost instinctually, that British people are somehow wittier and more articulate and better educated than we are?  This is especially true of our reactions to English emigres, but Irish and Scottish accents are also redolent of cool.  What is it about the national accent that seems posh (to use some British slang), even when it comes to dialects that in England are associated with the lower classes?  Why does a vulgar dumbass like Simon Cowell have any cultural cachet?

Apparently this stereotype irks Britons, too, at least according to Andrew Sullivan, the (British-born) philosophy PhD who edits the great Daily Dish and writes for a ton of American and European outlets.  However, he also argues that there’s some useful truth to the whole thing: impolite English outsiders have historically provided critical, alternative views of U.S. culture.  Go here to see what he has to say.  It’s a Times (of London) weekend commentary bit, which means it’s short enough to read while you eat a cup of yogurt or smoke a cigarette.

-TGR

because LA is a great city . . .

. . . with a great newspaper, here are some tidbits from the Los Angeles Times:

♣ THE VAN NUYS PORN MURDERS: a fired performer goes on a rampage with a fucking sword—it’s like a Tarantino movie!

♣ How soon until everyone in California can publicly smoke some green Prozac?

♣ The Collected Poems of Dylan Thomas just got resissued.  Good stuff.  But was he a twat?

♣ To reiterate, among its many accomplishments so far, the Obama administration’s stimulus HELPED AVERT ANOTHER GREAT DEPRESSION.   Do many Americans actually understand what a depression would have entailed?  Why are most of us so revoltingly ignorant when it comes to public policy?  Again, the stimulus worked! So why do only about a third of voters think so?

♣ God, I hate Jonah Hill.  His sole “comedic” talent seems to be that he looks like a confused, obese gerbil.  With him and Russell Brand, Get Him to the Greek will almost certainly be terrible.  But could Diddy be funny? (Since, you know, he’s been unintentionally funny for years.)

♣ HULK SMASH GENDER NORMATIVITY: it isn’t from the Times, but oh man is the Twitter account “Feminist Hulk” hilarious.

-TGR

Hat Rules

The golden age of the fashionable American male hat has been over for a long time.  Sorry, nostalgists.  By “fashionable,” I mean hats that are plumage, and which aren’t worn as a necessary part of one’s work (e.g. farmers still wear hats, so do construction workers, as do baseball/softball players).  For a while there, every prole got to have something that used to be the prerogative of aristocrats and royals: articles of headwear whose functional assets are secondary to their aesthetic effect.  But by the late 1960s, in the developed West, few young or middle-age dudes from the white-collar and educated classes donned hats when going to work or a party.

As things stand today, if you are under 70 and wear any sort of retro hat—a bowler, a fedora, one of those “newsy” tongue-like woolly things—you look like a dick.  Trust me, you do.  Even hipsters quickly relinquished their fascination with undersized fedoras (R.I.P, 2006-2008), although these do remain popular with entry-level alts.

However, one type of hat has been tenacious.  This is the baseball cap (which needn’t actually bear a sports logo).  Dudes still try to rock it during sit-down dinners.  At the bar.  In class.  Seriously, the other night I walked by Opal (an expensive restaurant in Santa Barbara) and saw a 30s-ish guy wearing a Yankee fitted on a fucking date.  Even a Red Sox cap would not have been OK at all.  This indecorous dorm-life shit has got to stop.  I love baseball caps in moderation.  But there need to be some contemporary guidelines.  Think I’ll volunteer to write some.  And since I don’t feel capable of theorizing female hat rules, I will restrict my comments to my gender.  Here are 12 tenets worth considering:

1.) If you are under 23 years of age and/or an undergraduate in college and/or terminally ill, congratulations.  Wear one all you want.  Otherwise the following rules apply.

2.) No caps at work, unless you have a job where a cap is immediately useful (i.e. construction or professional baseball).

3.) If you are sitting down and eating at the same time, you may not have a cap on.  A female family member should have told you this anyway.

4.) You really shouldn’t wear a cap to a party, unless said party is outside on a sunny day or taking place during a rainstorm.  Otherwise, Spaceship You emits a spectrum of bro-vibe which doesn’t entice most women, not even young ones from California.

5.) Even if you are under 23 and in college, you can’t wear any cap to my classes.  Not even a Sox cap.  Sorry, bro, but I already let the sweatpants & surfboard pass.

6.) Caps may be worn to sporting events whether you are a participant or an observer.  Same goes for outdoor concerts, but be aware that caps still aren’t considered very hip, so if you’re wearing one in Prospect Park or wherever don’t expect the girl with the Lisa Simpson tattoo to come strike up a conversation.

7.) NO NEW-ERA FITTED CAPS FOR ANYONE OVER 30.  Not even if you aren’t white.  Grown men should confine themselves to unstructured fitted caps like this one:

8.  If you wear glasses you look better in a cap than a guy who doesn’t (at least according to a girl I once dated).  Get some fake lenses if you want to tart up your style.  I also suggest a blazer.  Counterintuitive, I know.

9.  If you are venturing outside within an hour of waking up, you may wear a cap.

10.  Caps are (sort of) OK while running errands.

11.  You are not allowed to own more than 5 caps.

12.  Baseball caps are cooler than basketball caps, which are cooler than football caps.  This rule applies only to the aestheto-cultural appeal of the cap, not to the sport itself.

13. Don’t make rules about stuff like caps.  What are you, illiterate?

-TGR breaks these rules all the time

Go West, Young Man

From the late nineteenth century until the 1960s, the Western was the most popular form of mass entertainment in the United States.  The genre is vast, comprising Buffalo Bill’s turn-of-the-century roadshow, cowboy poetry, good and terrible fiction for both boys and adults, widely reproduced photos & paintings & woodcuts, advertisements (especially ones for cars), political campaigning (Teddy Roosevelt and Reagan both loved bullshit about the glorious frontier), TV shows, and films.  Lots of academic studies have been written about the various cultural functions of the Western–i.e. what it tells us about how different kinds of Americans conceptualize American identity—but by far the best and most accessible is Jane Tompkins’ West of Everything: The Inner Life of Westerns (Oxford UP, 1992).  Tompkins is that excellent kind of professor: she combines a historian’s erudition with a literary essayist’s verve.  In other words, Tompkins will entertain the hell out of you while also teaching you a whole lot.

Tompkins organizes the book by dividing the first half into chapters that each focus on a key Western theme or icon (Cattle, Indians, Horses, etc.) and then devoting the latter to chapter-length discussions of major Western texts (e.g. Louis L’Amour’s famous–and quite good–novels).  You can probably stick to the first part of the book without missing much.

While she spends a good deal of time demonstrating how popular conceptions of the West, most of them produced and consumed by white people, tend to minimize or erase altogether the incredible complexity of American history, largely by ignoring the perspectives of Native Americans, Spanish/Mexican colonists, black settlers, and Chinese immigrants, her main argument is that the Western is all about policing gender roles.  Westerns became popular at exactly the same time that the U.S. was becoming an industrialized capitalist empire, which made it difficult to maintain the longstanding image of Americans as courageous settlers who battled the wilderness and converted it to a rural, farm-based, Christian pastoral.  In particular, it was especially hard for American men who now tended to work in factories or white-collar office jobs to think of themselves as powerful, tough-talkin’, pragmatic individualists.  The Western responds to this panic about gender by offering a simplistic, consoling story in which men are quiet heroes and women are nurturing companions in need of male protection.  Her implicit point is that many of our nation’s cultural formations are about exactly the same thing.

So if you like history or are at all interested in the byzantine origins of “American” identity, check this out.

-TGR

War Games

I watch a lot of sports, so I get to see many variations on three basic kinds of advertisements: car commercials, erectile-dysfunction medication commercials, and military propaganda.  This latter category breaks down into two sub-genres: recruitment ads explicitly financed by the U.S. military (“The few, the proud . . . “) and self-congratulatory spots by defense contractors like Boeing (“Helping protect America against . . . “).  The contractor ads are especially creepy; they look and sound like parodies out of Starship Troopers.

As a number of radical liberal theorists such as George Washington (in his 1796 Farewell Address) and General Dwight D. Eisenhower (in his Farewell Address, where he coins the term “military-industrial complex”) have argued, the establishment of giant standing armies runs directly, absolutely counter to the interests of a free republic.  A permanent military devours enormous amounts of money which could be spent elsewhere (say on silly stuff like schools and health care), concentrates power in the executive branch (and in America’s case, creates a fourth branch of government called the Department of Defense), and reinforces the idea that a nation’s identity is inseparable from its military culture and interests.  Consider that no person gets elected President of the United States without constantly praising the “integrity” and “sacrifices” and “nobility” of the armed forces; notice that for all his excellent left-of-center qualities, Barrack Obama will never, ever question the wisdom of spending more than half of the federal budget on the military.  $1.5 trillion last year.  Alone.  That’s trillion with a T.  Most of which is deficit-spending financed by China, Japan, and Saudi Arabia.  Even Obama’s newest Supreme-Court nominee, Elena Kagan, who is ostensibly a liberal, had to gush about how great the military is after conservatives attacked her for her opposition to military recruitment at Harvard.  Almost nobody in the American ruling class not named Kucinich will even mention the warnings of patriots like Washington and Eisenhower.

Now, I admire the individual bravery and professional dedication of soldiers.  (If you want a reason why, check out Frontline’s newest documentary, “The Wounded Platoon,” which airs this Tuesday on PBS.)  My grandfather, one of the kindest, most intelligent men I have ever known, was a two-star general in the National Guard.  But I do not think that soldiering is an inherently noble profession; in other words, I agree with General Washington.  The time when the American military existed to serve the Republic (instead of the other way around) is long past.  American political culture surrounds “our” troops with plenty of rhetoric about valor and sacrifice, but ultimately they exist to defend a narrow spectrum of imperialist and corporate interests, and they are generally treated as disposable goons, left to deal with their own physical and psychological agony once they’re discharged.

For decades, one of the most erudite, articulate critics of American militarism has been Chalmers Johnson.  Educated at Berkeley, Johnson’s academic specialty is geopolitical studies, with an emphasis on the Pacific Rim; he spent decades teaching at Berkeley and UC San Diego before his retirement (he’s now a UCSD Emeritus).  In addition to his astonishing knowledge of American military and political history, Johnson has two more great attributes: he isn’t a self-righteous twit who views the U.S. as entirely, invariably evil (like Noam Chomsky appears to), and he has a military background—he served in the Korean War and worked for the CIA in the 60s and 70s.  Johnson was a serious Cold Warrior.  But he was horrified by how the collapse of the Soviet Union did nothing to slow the growth of the U.S. defense budget, and he has since produced some of the best general-interest works on American neo-imperialism: among these are Blowback and The Sorrows of Empire.   The philosophical thread which connects all of his writings is that while modern democracies need adequate armies and must stand against psychotic anti-modern forces like Islamic fanaticism, it is absolutely insane that the U.S. has hundreds of military bases around the world (most of them left over from the Cold War), and that we spend so much money on, and devote so much political devotion to, the military.  We are still building new submarines and nuclear weapons (for instance).  Last time I checked, Osama Bin Laden didn’t have a navy, and even military analysts don’t think that ICBMs will do much to deter terrorists from seeking to build a rogue bomb.

Anyway, watch the above interview.  It’s about an hour long and will give you a clearer and more detailed summary of Johnson’s views than I am capable of writing.

-TGR

More like “The Bores”

Johnny Depp has long fancied himself something of literary actor, and he sometimes acts accordingly.  Unfortunately he tends to idolize mediocre writers: witness all that multi-decade shilling for Hunter S. Thompson.  Professor Depp’s most recent contribution to the arts is his narration of a PBS documentary that is nominally about The Doors but which, like most stories about that band, ends up mostly dealing with Jim Morrison.  I caught half of it tonight.  No, seriously, I really did watch.  Stop laughing.  Anyway, in it you get to hear Depp say things like “the raw passion [Morrison] expressed without fear” and “. . . captured the spirit of an entire generation” with (presumably) a straight face.

I had three thoughts when I saw this.  The first and snobbiest one was, “Man, Jim Morrison was a preening, boorish, pseudo-intellectual egomaniac.  Even worse, he was a terrible poet.  How did the rumor he was talented get going anyway?”  The second was about how The Doors have maybe three or four palatable songs.  (OK, two or three.)  The third was that one is usually only a Doors fan between the ages of 12 and 19.

But then there was a fourth thought: who the fuck is this aimed at?  Do contemporary teenagers even know who Jim Morrison was?  I guess the target audience is nostalgic male Baby Boomers, who have more money than young Americans and of whom there is a profusion, but the documentary’s tone is that of a work trying to “turn people on” to this hip, unfairly neglected band.  And something tells me that most teenagers would be bored to death by The Doors.  Wasn’t the time for this 20 years ago?  You know, when Oliver Stone made that shitty film with the guy who sort of looks like a fatter, older Johnny Depp?

-TGR