Tag Archives: yuppie

the dream brother Martin never had

I’m on my way to work, taking public transportation like the man of the people I am, when a fairly attractive woman enters the same subway car and stands right next to me. Not a bad way to start the morning, right?  Until this happens:

For the record, the sound wasn’t even the worst part.  Lesson here is: when it comes to attraction, smell is a powerful sense.  Some may argue, but I personally put it up there with sight.  For the nonbelievers, think back to how many times you’ve been stopped in your tracks because you smelled the perfume/cologne of a past lover years after…and perhaps far, far away from the last time you encountered them in person?  Truth is, once someone is associated with a certain scent in your mind, there’s no separation. Um, you remember when Jake let his ponytail hook up with the pterodactyl looking thing in Avatar?  Yeah, scent is basically just the same thing.  Whether positive or negative, that fragrance you give off is never wearing off in their mind and subconscious.

So in 2011, why on God’s green earth are there still women slithering through society wearing Gap Dream body spray???

You can be honest here my friends, many of you have encountered this tragedy as well.  Just the other day I was out on the town when my nostrils caught that familiar whiff of Gap Dream‘s Deferred from a female about my same age.  Without a single word exchanged between the two of us, I knew right then and there that this was a girl whose aura was in disarray.  A girl who did not give an airborne iota of shit about life goals or what car she was going to drunkely pee behind later on that evening.  She would probably steal the change from under your couch cushion and likely covers her body in glitter before she exits her home for a night out.  Rather than build up enough courage to illuminate the path that her dilemma was leading her down, I simply said a Hail Mary to myself and went about my business.

Now let’s be clear here. 10-12 years ago, Gap Dream was definitely the silver cloud that some of you surfed on when your fragrance game was in early development.  There’s nothing wrong with that!   There was nothing more prosperous than leaning over in algebra to borrow that No. 2 pencil from the girl who sat next to you and breathing in the sweet, chemical aroma of Gap Dream body spray and bubble gum flavored lip gloss.  But I ask, why today?  Why now?  Why bear a scent that conjures of memories of Middle School dances and letting perverted boys like me get to 2nd base in 9th grade?  Do we not have a black president and iPad 2′s?  Nah yo, we’ve come too far for any tax paying citizen to innocently get caught in some fragrant fallout of Gap Dream in the wild on a peaceful day.  I ask, what did we do wrong as a society to lead you astray?

The problem isn’t limited to deluded women in their mid 20′s though.  Just this past weekend, I saw some of our founding mothers knee deep in pain & struggle in the Gap Dream fragrance section.  Of course, I was crafty enough to capture photo documentation

And again, like the coward I am, I sat there and watched them douse themselves in the aromatic sins of their granddaughters and didn’t say a damn thing.

I…no…WE…as a yuppie dilemma community and family want to help you.  Please, as tempting as it may seem, next time you fall into the Gap don’t visit the fragrance section.  Check out the new yoga clothes section or something, I hear that’s cool.  Just stay away from the body spray.  We really do care about you and want to help you be delivered from as much evil as we can.  You have a choice (Remember, there’s always Cool Water for women and anything Liz Claiborne puts out).  But when it comes to Gap Dream, just.  Say.  No.

-MillsyF.

Baldwin Denim Fall/Winter 2010

While I still pledge allegiance to my Levi’s 514 Raw Indigos (proudly washed a grand total of 4x in the 2 years I’ve owned them), I’ve found myself edging closer to the edge of denim geekdom. I finally have the fades, the streaks, a permanent imprint in the pocket where I keep my wallet, and the crinkles at the back of my knee caps that I love, and I didn’t have to pay some designer to break them in for me. But as these blues edge toward the end of their run, what’s gonna be the next pair?

I first took notice of Baldwin Denim after seeing them featured in the Denim Debate (check it out if you get a chance, it’s pretty dope…if you’re into jeans). Baldwin Denim’s founder, Matt Baldwin, was born and raised in Kansas until moving to L.A. to learn the art of apparel manufacturing. He then migrated to Kansas city, where in 2009 he would launch his first denim collection for Baldwin Denim.  Only choosing premium quality dry selvage denim from small mills in America and Japan, the jeans are built to age and evolve by doing just what we do everyday: live life. This season, he continues with his design philosophy of “less is more, and quality shows,” but now with added apparel and accessories. I won’t lie: I like what I see! Check out some shots below!

(the middle one isn’t from this new collection, but I snuck it in anyway)

-MillsyF

next stop: Urban Station

Urban Station.  Doesn’t it just sound like a yuppie dreamscape?

For our generation, going to the coffee shop to use wireless internet is as natural as stealing it from your neighbor. Unless of course, they figured out how to put a password  on their router (always sucks, doesn’t it?). I’ll be the first to admit that a fair amount of writing for this blog takes place at our favorite coffee shop.  Give me some comfy chairs, a laid back atmosphere, some power outlets, and an invisible pipeline to the information super highway and I might be there for a while.  The problem lies in the fact that I often want to set up shop and “work” there, even though I don’t want to buy any food (not to mention I have no business drinking coffee anyway).

Urban Station, where have you been all my life?

Combining the ideas of the coffee shop and the office in a comfortably hip, yet elegant fashion, Urban Station. While you’ll pay by the hour to chill here, you’ll have access to everything you might possibly need to get on your remote grind: high speed wireless internet, books and magazines, dozens of chairs and tables, plugs, rental lockers, locks for your lap-machine, and (here it comes) unlimited snacks and drinks, including coffee. Yeah, I guess you could call it a yuppie social club.

If you’re into off-site business meetings, Urban Station has you covered with conference rooms complete with printers, fax machines, and scanners. And if you have to run a quick errand, the place even has a few bikes that you can rent.

But like most cool places we wish we could hang out, this trip requires a passport, as Urban Station is location in Buenos Aires, Argentina. Still, this place is without a doubt yuppie-certified. So what do you think? If a spot like this popped up in your neighborhood, would you shell out a few bills to spend some time here?

Check out more pics below!

(via The Cool Hunter)

-MillsyF

the Mad Men dilemma

Every Sunday, as the gloom of the workweek lays on the horizon, a reality-induced depression begins to slowly set in. As I reflect on life as a yupling, I realize how limited my existence is. I can’t quite afford to wear nice suits to work, it’s not at all appropriate to drink scotch on the job, and I don’t possess the suaveness (or spouse) required to have extramarital affairs with any secretaries. Now before you go calling the suicide hot line, have no fear: I survive vicariously through a great little show on AMC every Sunday evening at 10pm EST.

I can’t really call myself a Mad Men apostle since I jumped on during Season III after a healthy dose of catch up via Netflix, but I do know it’s audience is bubbling. And why wouldn’t they be? The show is downright incredible. Besides the fact that I’d be restricted to being an elevator operator or one of the other service positions they depict black folk existing in, I can’t see why any white guy wouldn’t want to work for Sterling-Cooper-Draper-Pryce.

Do you remember our friend Ken Doll? Well like I told you before, we share many a similar view on things, including our love for Mad Men and our moth-to-light fascination with all things yuppie. We also happen to live in the same hood. There’s this Italian restaurant/bar in the first floor on my building that I frequent regularly and they’ve been hyping their new promotion, Mad Men Sundays. I think you see where this is going.

So Ken and I show up to the packed establishment for the season premiere in our uniform of a V-neck t-shirts and square rimmed eyeglasses. This was unplanned, of course (like I said, we share a taste in fashion). Unprepared for the phenomenon we were about to witness, we found a couple of chairs in the corner and picked up the drink menu. While Ken sipped on some summer-y beer, I decided to explore the drink menu, which consisted of specialty cocktail whose namesakes were taken from the television drama’s main characters. I went with the Don Draper, a standard Old Fashioned. Right below was a fruity little cocktail called the Salvatore Romano. We assumed there was pun intended on Tavolo’s part.

Now, not to toss out semi-outrageous theories or anything, but maybe there is  a Bat Signal for yuppies that was shined hours previously. In the shape of a martini glass perhaps. Because Mad Men Sundays is apparently the Comicon of the yuppie community. Packed like sardines, this group of yuppies in their 30s & 40s munched on fancy overpriced bar snacks like bacon-wrapped scallop rumaki and crudite plates with warm bagna cauda and sat in dead silence as last season’s finale played on the flat screen overhead.

This scene wouldn’t have been that strange, had half of the crowd not been dressed up like 60′s Ad Men and their wives.

So on a Sunday night, this is what the elder generation yups do, huh? Never before would I imagined this craze to resonate with the souls of so many grownup-ass people. For the first time ever, all the crazies who dress up like wizards the night before the next Harry Potter flick hits theaters seemed normal. Because, you know, most of them don’t have kids who are probably with the babysitter  while they play dress-up at the bar. But why care about that now? Have another drink and watch Betty Draper be an awful mom while Jenny from around the corner invites her boyfriend over to your house once they tuck the kiddies in bed.  Only slightly kidding about that last part.

But I guess adults are entitled to their fair share of fun in the land of make-believe, even if that land is set in a cigar smoke-filled conference room in a 1960′s ad agency. As the season premiere unfolded, the dimly lit enclave in the side of the restaurant was hushed, with silence interrupted only by the accidental sound of glasses touching and the cued laughter at the shows subtle humor. Mr. Doll and I sat in the corner, splitting time between the show, the people watching it, and exchanging snarky smirks at the hilarity of the situation. The sad part is that we both knew that 20 years from now we’d be probably be at some packed bar watching a teledrama about the 80s. In the mean time, we’d join in with our yuppie forefathers and sip Joan Harrises and Peter Campbells and laugh alongside the husbands when Don and Roger make infidelity jokes.

I wonder what their wives were thinking?

-Millsy F

the volunteer teaching dilemma

Folks, the yuppie dilemma is real. It’s not something we made up. It happens everyday and it’s happening right now as you read this. It truly is the quintessential test of character for the premiumly enlightened; the pragmatic see-saw of courage in the face of knowledge vs. comfort & sanity. I know this not because I experience it first-hand daily.  At this point in my life, sanity has a comfortable lead over courage. I know the yuppie dilemma is real because I witness the sanity of some of my dearest friends slip away for reasons I struggle to understand.  My friends, I know that the yuppie dilemma exists precisely because someone was crazy enough to invent volunteer teaching. In the inner city. However, it’s precisely because of these friends that I keep writing in the hopes that courage will catch up someday.

I went on vacation to a friend’s lake house with a gang from the University days. As lively and rambunctious as they are talented, they are a group of eclectic interests and pursuits. A get together like we just had, a year after graduation, can easily turn into the The Yuppie Dilemma Summer Summit 2010.

Which is what I was hoping for. Naturally.

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navigating dilemmas (Boston Common Cents, pt. 2)

So remember way back when when I told you about a dinner I had with a friend? Well, I decided not to write about what we talked about during that meal. Sort’ve.

I’ll tell you about the meal though. It was dope. He ordered a fillet and I had a crab cake sandwich. He knew the (extremely cute) waitress and she was good to us; kept the Manhattan’s flowing like the Gulf Oil spill (too soon?). And like every time we meet to catch up on life, I left in a better mood than when I arrived.

When you first discover how mundane the real world can be, you look forward to dinners like these with friends like this, regardless of the circumstance. Nothing short of a big brother to me, he’s one of those people I go to when I need to be told I’m screwing up. But I tell him because I know there’s a good shot he’s already made that mistake. We say the things we aren’t supposed to say because people would frown (or smile), but we say them because they need to be said. We crack jokes, we praise each others accomplishments and lend a hand to brush off each others failures. When I’m too much of a punk to face a truth, he’ll gladly serve it to me, silver platter not included. I return the favor whenever the opportunity present’s itself. In short, we solve the world’s problems, all in a night’s work. It’s a productive friendship, if anything else.

Rather than tell you about what we spoke about that night over dinner, I figure I’d pass some of that productivity along in a different form. I thought back to some of the most memorable conversations we’ve had over the years and, while it seems impossible, tried to come up with the top 5 pieces of marginal wisdom (in no particular order) that have been produced from them. Feel free to take as much as you can, folks. Enjoy.

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a little leg

When you’re really young, overhearing grown-up conversations can really throw your life for a loop. Back when I was a wee little Millsy baby, my aunt’s car had broken down on her way to a family get together. This was before the dawn of the all-powerful cell phone, and she’s no mechanic, so it was up to her to elicit the help of a friendly stranger. She eventually arrives at the party, fashionably late, with the story of how a gentleman picked her up and drove her 25 minutes out of his way to get her to the party. When someone asked her how she talked him into it she dipped her head back and laughed.

“Didn’t you know? Men are simple: show a little leg and a big smile, and you can get anything you want.”

Over a decade later, a good portion of my “good deeds” have lent proof to this theory.

Any readers on the same page as me might be interested in these…unique, bottle openers made by Australian company Fire Monkey. The Leg Opener is made of stainless steel with a stiletto that works just as well as the jacked up lighter you probably currently use to pop open cold ones. There’s even a magnet built into the thigh to put it on your fridge, clearly a conspiracy plotted by the grocery industry to seduce you into eating your own food. Thank goodness the Leg Opener doesn’t have a face to smile at us, otherwise we’d be in a mess of trouble. It’ll run you about $30 bucks

(via cool material)

-Millsy F

tyd.com presents: the yuppie crime blotter

Spotted last night in South Boston, parked on the street.

Some yuppie bro certainly wasn’t pleased to discover his cherry red Jeep Wrangler fratmobile was filled with beer cups and trash and cocooned in Saran wrap.  Authorities here at tyd.com were notified and we dispatched an investigation team to get to the bottom of this sadistic instance of yup-on-yup crime. While it provided a fair bit of humor to folks entering and exiting the bar it was parked in front of, we take things like this very seriously. Based on evidence we’ve gathered, we’ve narrowed down the suspect/motive list to two possibilities

  1. Bro’s of victim decides it would be funny to totally fill their bro’s Jeep Wrangler with crap and Saran wrap it under the cover of darkness
  2. Ex-gf of victim discovers unmentionables from unidentified skanky girl from victim’s workplace under the bed of victim. Proceeds to play Taylor Swift “Pictures to Burn” on repeat. Looks out window and sees victim’s car parked in front. Proceeds to begin settling score.

We are offering a cash reward pat on the back to anyone who provides information that leads to the arrest of either suspect. Requests for our private yuppie investigation services should be sent to theyuppiedilemma@gmail.com

-MillsyF, P.I.

A Steeler and a Slob

So Ben Roethlisberger walks into a bar…

And so begins my life as a contributing editor blogger. I’d like to take the opportunity to welcome myself to theyuppiedilemma, a blog of which I’ve been a fan for quite some time. My name’s Ryan, but only my girlfriend and family call me that. Hurtdog and/or Slob, please. You may be wondering to yourselves: why am I here? Frankly put, f*ck if I know. I did some writing in college- Millsy didn’t agree with a lot (any) of it- advocating for some guy that didn’t win the presidency. I know, I’m racist¹. He must want someone to try to embarrass with his word magic. But in all seriousness, a little fresh perspective never hurt anyone, right?

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To split rent or swap rings: that is the tyd.com question

Quick survey for our readers out there with significant others (disclaimer: if that person is right next to you, it’s all good.  You can answer silently): Would you move in with your baby-boo, or vice versa, even if you two weren’t engaged?  Be honest now, because if you answered no, the Joneses may be leaving you in the dust

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