The Tragically Unhip

a blog with three fingers on the pulse of uncoolness.

Never Mind The Fashion Week… October 4, 2009

Filed under: City Living,Culture & Society,Fashion,Shopping — Little Evie @ 8:13 pm

Manhattan Vintage Clothing Show
Vintage wasn’t cool when I was in high school. Well, no one wore it when we actually got free dress days, unless it was Hallowe’en and someone went all-out with their ‘1960s Hippie’ costume (the only thing more embarrassing than that has got to be marketing Punk Lite to tweens). But somewhere between my ‘80s hand-me-downs and ‘90s quasi-raver gear, I had myself a nice little collection of retro clothing, all care of my auntie Elsa aka Liz Kolanksy aka ‘The Cool Aunt.’

The stand-outs included a gold evening jacket and a bright green mod mini dress that blew everyone else’s standard school dance fare (Calvin Klein Mom-cut jeans and baby tees) out of the water. Or maybe it provoked giggles. I can’t remember caring, just thinking I looked like the hot distant Brady cousin.

Manhattan VintageSo I was thrilled when some time after high school I started heading down to New York and helping out Elsa with Studio 42 and Oly’s Vintage (named after my uncle Oly, whose salon then shared a space with her shop on E. 21st) – and with the Manhattan Vintage Clothing Show, a yearly showcase of vintage clothing and textiles for designers and fashion fiends.

It was then and there that I…

…learned how many designers’ ‘designs’ consist of re-issued vintage pieces (often after low-balling vintage clothing dealers – it’s odd, to say the least, seeing an exact replica of a piece you sold for a mere $75 for $1,000+ apiece in Saks).

…found out cool parties and media clippings don’t pay the rent, selling alongside a designer for Imitation of Christ who had moved back in with her parents.

…marveled at interns from major fashion houses sent over to buy up vintage items from their own labels.

…realized some people’s reaction to used clothing is still a decisive, ‘Eww.’

…ran into celebs and designers, managing to remain oblivious to their identities until afterward (except maybe Patricia Field and Betsey Johnson because, well, c’mon).

…found out even celebs and designers haggle.

Victorian cape from Studio 42

Victorian cape from Studio 42

…gave some bullshit interview to a Village Voice reporter about the popularity of Victorian whites post-9/11.

…fell in love with every old timey soul living in New York, from a couple stuck in the 1800s to a gang of rockabilly kids (when I mentioned the cuteness of one of the boys, a girl from the group warned me he was an alcoholic).

…wandered around in a gaudy one-armed Miss Universe pageant gown and had it bought off my back.

…bought my first pair of (and god help the Sex and the City-ness of it all) Manolos for about $100 and learned the single upside to my giant shoe size: Lots of models have it, too, meaning I get a great selection of runway cast-offs and stylist steals.

Looks like I’m heading down again this year for Oct. 8 and 9, hopefully after developing a strategy for keeping myself from spending the last of my life savings on a Victorian cape or Chanel twin set (though it’s hard not to kick yourself for passing up a gorgeous 1940s dress for $100 only to find a look-a-like for the same price at H&M).

I wonder what it’ll be like this year, if it’ll be full of Mad Men fans looking for hot Joan-style dresses. Or Rachel Zoe wannabes hunting for peasant pieces to put under ‘stylist’s own’ in the fashion spread credits. Hipster kids, burlesque performers, bargain hunters and incognito millionaires. I doubt I’ll even want to hit Century 21 when I’m done.

 

Hipster Ads: They’ve Gotten Sooo Commercial September 9, 2009

Filed under: Advertising,Hipster Culture,Music — Little Evie @ 1:47 pm

Indie twosome Slow Club came to town the other week. I didn’t attend the show (I was out of the country and also, I hate music), but had I gone I’m not sure I could have restrained myself from yelling: ‘Play the Ritz Crackers song! Do it! Crackers! Yeah everyone, par-ty down!’

It’s not what you think. I’m not about to ream out some hard-working musicians trying to get noticed and pay their rent, and honestly, I’m just as likely as the next idiot to Google ‘need know song mac ad.’ It’s just that I’ve noticed a certain kind of music making its way into ads for everyday products. And a certain type of pale, thin, messy-haired person. And a certain kind of rough-edged font that tries not to smack of effort. And a certain type of aftereffect that bleaches everything out to the point where it looks like the sky’s painted pastel, and those skinny, beat-up jeans are practically acid washed.

Take this ad for Miracle Whip. Its approach seems eerily close to The Onion’s mock advertisement for extreeeme saltines, now with skinny rebellious spokespeople.

Say whaaat? In yo’ face, mayonnaise! I think we can safely say that that was the most embarrassing blip of all those people’s careers – the models, the editor, the marketing team, the voice guy, and of course the lady at the end who seems to equate her choice of condiment with some sort of new civil rights movement.

But even that’s just a tad too edgy to be considered a hipster commercial. Hipster commercials are about hanging with your friends and wearing vintage ‘pieces’ paired with American Apparel basics. About acting like kids (because hey, why not?) while a lilting soundtrack serenades you over to the product, about which you comment, ‘Oh that old thing? Yeah, pretty good. I’m not going to turn this into a bro-style beer commercial or anything and start humping legs, but yeah, I’ll buy it. Whatever. At least until everyone else starts buying it.’

Here’s a car commercial that fits the bill. Could that couple be any prettier or more in love? They are so pretty and so in love I want to fling myself over their balcony out of shame. They’re probably going to some cool Scandanavian festival I’ve never even heard of.

This Jetta one is pretty good, too, if only because you can picture the pitch meeting so clearly: ‘It’s about a young couple exploring the neighbourhood they’re gentrifying from the safety of their vehicle (not that there’s anything wrong with it).’

Here’s an ad for gum that combines a pretty person who works from home as a graphic designer with adorable Asian-style animation (uh… maybe a bit too Asian. Pause it at 0:12 and let me know) – the kind of cutesy art this Demetri Martin-looking dude probably puts in mismatched frames and hangs alongside a real taxidermied squirrel.

And the coup de grace: lil’ hipsters. Here’s the aforementioned Ritz Crackers* commercial, which isn’t terribly obnoxious but does present me with a conundrum – the song is actually quite nice, but now it’s tainted by cracker crumbs. Then again, would I have ever even heard it had it not been used by Ritz? (Remember, I hate music.) Also, how am I supposed to live my life when these two eight-year-olds are clearly cooler than me?

Truly bittersweet. After all, they’re co-opting whimsy and whatever the real inspiration was behind all those songs.

On the other hand… Hey there, hipster friends who make non-threatening music and/or work in marketing – Good for you! What with your jobs and your clients and stuff. There’s nothing like staying one step ahead of the game and turning a disadvantage, e.g. being inexperienced or the youngest person in the office, into a forte, e.g. knowing what the kids think is ‘cool.’ No, not that. Or that. You can’t define it… you just know.

* On a side note, I wonder what’s happened to Ritz’s sales. Those things have got to be swimming in trans fats, right?

 

Hipster Pick-Up Lines: Get Laid Faster Than a Bike Courier on Blow May 19, 2009

Filed under: Booze,Dating,Hipster Culture,How-To,Sex — Little Evie @ 12:03 pm

A few months back I Facebook-asked the coolest people I know for their best hipster pick-up lines. They were to be collected and printed in a once-promising magazine, and they were… only the article managed to land in a sea of silicone boobs and Simple Plan quotes. I can pretty much guarantee that not a single Tragically Unhip reader will ever lay eyes on the issue, except perhaps as a grotesque joke.

 

So here they are – plus a few that were too good to print – in all their apathetic glory. Feel free to add your own in the comments section!

 

    hipsterpic

  • Wanna go on a post-date?
  • Is that a pair of vintage Ray Bans in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?
  • Ever heard of Williamsburg? I named it.
  • I’d like to have you on vinyl.
  • What’s your gear ratio?
  • Hi. I play harmonica in Arcade Fire. Wanna fuck?
  • Did you know that PBR actually stands for ‘Pretty Big Rod’?
  • Lemme add my app to your dashboard. If you know what I mean.
  • You would totally make it into Vice’s page of Do’s.
  • Seriously baby, I’ll take you out as soon as this check clears from my parents.
  • Are those Nudie Limited Edition Masa Japan jeans from outer space? Because your ass is out of this world.
  • Want to start a wolf-, fox- or crystal-related band together?
  • You’ve got bike courier eyes.
  • I like you so much, you make me want to update my Facebook status to In a Relationship.
  • Wanna meet my Cobrasnake?
  • I want to have a Casual Encounter with you. Don’t make me have to write a Missed Connection.
  • I only look asexual.
  • Boy: Hey, do you have any pretentious avant-garde photographer in you?  Girl: Er, no.  Boy: Want some?
  • Can you program my iPhone’s GPS with your bed’s location?
  • Yeah, I was kind of a big deal at last year’s Expozine…
  • Hey, haven’t we had sex in the bathroom at Green Room before?
  • You look familiar; didn’t I see you writhing around on the filthy floor of a L.E.S. dive bar on Last Night’s Party?
  • I’d like to see your ‘deep v’ — and I’m not talking about your American Apparel tee.
  • Want to come over and meet my cats, Harmony and Korine?
  • Looking at you, I’d swear I had ‘sexy lenses’ in my glasses… but I remembered these glasses don’t have lenses, they’re just for show.
  • Hey good to see you! Let’s go for breakfast at some overpriced breakfast joint that will refuse to put butter on my toast and most likely fuck up the bacon! It’s 2pm and breakfast time has just started! Uh… I’ll just circle around this parking lot while you change…. really? You like that? Ok…. I’ll just circle around while you put on cooler shoes, like mine. [Waiting outside] Maybe I’ll listen to Illo’s new song…

 

  • … did I mention I’ve got coke?

 

(Thanks to Nat Hutchens, Cindy Lou, Bobby Steez, Ms. Dawe, Mr. Lam and Mr. Curry and anyone else who contributed. Illustration c/o David Shaw)

 

Rant Control: How to List Your Apartment on Craigslist April 23, 2009

Filed under: Advertising,City Living,Home,How-To,Manifesto,Neighbourhood — Little Evie @ 11:52 am
And you say you'll SELL me your used futon? 25 percent off?

And you say you'll LET me buy your used futon, too, if I take the place? At 25 percent off? Where do I sign?

 

As July 1st, aka ‘Moving Day’ approaches, Montrealers are looking for places to live, like so many hermit crabs exchanging one dirty rotten husk for another. Between overcrowded open houses and Facebook pleas for help, it appears we’re getting desperate… but not that desperate. In my hunt for a clean, livable property I’ve come across more than my fair share of hell holes. But I swear – sometimes half the battle is just slogging through the Craigslist ads (or Craig’s List, if you prefer). Don’t these people WANT to rent their places out? Don’t they know they could get a few more bucks a month if only they put in a little effort? It boggles the mind.

 

Anyway, as is my way, I’m using my first post on The Tragically Unhip to complain loudly and to tell other people what they’re doing wrong. In this case, it’s listing and renting (or, god forbid, selling) a Montreal apartment.

  • Include photos. It’s the internet, people, not the back of the Mirror. If you can’t afford the $75 needed to buy a basic digital camera, borrow one.
  • Include good photos. You don’t need to be Annie Leibowitz, but fer chrissakes use your head. Offer shots of the kitchen, the bathroom, the bedrooms and whatever else potential tenants might actually need to see to help them evaluate a property. It’s really great that you sprang for a fancy crystal doorknob when you moved into the place pre-WWII, but offering three shots of it instead of, say, a snap of the bathroom just won’t do. Same goes for those of you who think detail pics of toilet plungers, Italian tiles, water meters, etc., are more important that shots of the kitchen.
  • Also, enough with those low-angled shots that stretch out tiny spaces, making them appear immense – we just might get wise when we actually visit the location. (And can someone please explain the reasoning behind including nothing but exterior shots? I can’t help but assume that these ads are posted by hobos with internet access who just snap facades at random and put them online in the hopes of conning people out of deposit money. Because if you were honestly trying to sell or rent a place, wouldn’t you be allowed inside?)
  • And hey, how about cleaning the fuck up? I’m not even asking you to paint over your delightful aqua and neon yellow walls or trash your precious used beer bottle collection (though, again, either would up your price significantly), just try taking your drying clothes off the door before you let me in for a viewing. Or shove all your old pizza boxes from one corner to the other, if only for a second, when you photograph that snazzy ‘European’ living room.
  • Oh, and please keep your creepy roommate out of the photos.
  • Include relevant information. Sure they may seem like minor details, but many potential tenants like to know little things like the apartment’s general location, the number of bedrooms, whether or not utilities or appliances are included, your contact info, etc. Trivial stuff. The whole 3.5/4.5 system used to denote number of rooms in Montreal apartments is mildly retarded, I agree, but that’s why you get a whole description along with your post’s title. Remember, you aren’t paying by the word – in fact, if you’re posting on Craigslist, you aren’t paying anything at all.
  • Don’t make me trek to HoMa and tell me it’s the Plateau. It seems, this year, that crafty landlords have dropped the term ‘Plateau-adjacent’ in favour of straight-out lies. No wonder so many are reluctant to list specific addresses – they know we can just GoogleMap that shit. I’m particularly amused by how many listings include magical areas like ‘Plateau North’ (Laval) and ‘Plateau West’ (NDG), which, oddly, don’t seem to exist outside of Craigslist’s real estate pages. Oh, and you might want to find out if I’m from here before lying your ass off about how long it takes to get to St. Laurent Blvd. from the east side of Lafontaine Park.
  • In the same vein, enough with your ‘creative’ interpretations of the word ‘room.’ A doorway is not a room. A balcony is not a room. And don’t get me started on what I’m supposed to consider a ‘bedroom,’ including door-less alcoves and 5ft x 5ft spaces containing washer and dryer hook-ups. Quebecers got so tired of this shit that they made it illegal to pass a window-less room off as a bedroom (or maybe it was just the fire hazard), leading many kind property owners to install plexiglass squares to let the sun shine in on your miserable existence.
  • That balcony? It’s a death trap. Honestly, I am telling you this for your own good. Don’t say I should have a BBQ out there because it will collapse, I will die, and you might feel bad for a second. (I think I might actually do a whole photo essay on the phenomenon of terrifyingly unsound Montreal balconies. That or the alarming number of Xmas trees and wreaths only now making it to the city’s curbs.)
  • Remember, this is Montreal. We’re cheap bastards. No one’s renting your one-bedroom for $3500, no matter how much work you put into it. (This is the part where the New York-based readers all laugh at how cute Montrealers are when they get angry about a little hole in the drywall, low water pressure, and paying over $1 per square foot.)

 

(And to anyone who ever read my old, crappy blog – god forbid – yes, this is a slight rehash. No one listened the first time around.)