This entry of Big
City James is brought to you by Sparkle.
Jordin Sparks and Whitney Houston star in this surefire summer hit
from Sony Pictures Entertainment. Is Whitney Houston dead? Not in
Sparkle! Only in
theatres.
Hello Friends.
Forgive me my terribly long absence.
The past two weeks have seen me packing bags and unpacking bags,
loading cars and unloading cars, saying hello to friends and saying
goodbye to friends. Now I am in a new Big City with new horizons to
explore and expectations to meet and find that the most pressing crop
of Dreams (find a job, make new friends, master the deceptively
difficult Edmonton dialect) to be at best, a little daunting to
consider, and at worst, a little tedious to read. But that doesn't
mean this week's Big City James shouldn't be our biggest, boldest,
most circulated entry ever.
Tired of taking time in the middle
of a business meeting, custody hearing, or auto-erotic asphyxiation
to pull up your socks? The sock garters at Woods
of Shropshire Menswear ensure a high sock and covered ankle
in even the highest-pressure situation. Don't pull up your socks like
a drooling, syphilitic moron, visit Woods
of Shropshire Menswear and get back to your life again.
Dream: Create a Big City James
September Issue.
Goal: Achievable. Conventional wisdom
in the publishing industry used to be that any monthly publication
would see it's highest sales at Christmas. While that's surely still
true of gift catalogues and reindeer porn, such figures have been
upset in recent years with the rise of the September issue. As trends
often do, this one began with Vogue magazine. I once knew a fey but
stylish man who spent a good third of his time and income shopping
for little outfits and he said, "If you care at all about the
clothes on your back, you need to know only two things. Your
measurements, and Vogue's September issue." Instead of pushing
him in front of a moving car for so simperingly justifying the gay
male stereotype, I heed his advice and every year since, buy
September's Vogue when it hits newsstands. Not for my own little
outfits, you understand, but just to pore over the excess, the style,
the pageantry of it all. And I am not alone. Circulation is so high
for Vogue's September issue that a documentary film was made about
its production, its estimated ad revenue hovers around $100 million,
and other publications follow suit. Victoria Beckham covers Glamour
this month, Katy Perry does Elle, Kate Middleton has this month's
Vanity Fair, Lady Gaga landed this ridonkulous Vogue spread,
even Prancer gets this month's Reindeer Porn Digest. So why can't I
get in on the action with my little blog?
Get in on the action for your
September dinners with avocado, the vegetable that tastes like
nothing! Add a negligible amount to a soup, a pinch of zilch to your
casserole, weird green stuff for your sandwiches, with avocado.
"Mother, can we please have avocado?" no children will ask.
Look for it in the blandest part of your grocery store.
Plan: Take what I
know about September issues and apply the same features to my blog.
Features like:
Advertisements.
This month's Vogue is over 900 hundred pages and more than half of
them are ads. While I have been ad-free up until now, the keen-eyed
reader will notice a few subtle endorsements throughout this entry.
An
interview with a hot young star. If I had my druthers and could
interview whomever I liked, I might put the Twilight stars on the
cover, mopey Kristen Stewart and sickly Robert Pattinson, but inside
I'd profile two far more interesting co-stars. I haven't seen the
Twilight movies, but the imdb entries for them reveal two familiar
names to me that I want to know more about: Bronson Pelletier and
Nikki Reed. I wrote a brief piece that mentioned Bronson Pelletier
for this book,
but always felt like a bit of a faker, having written about him but
not contacting him directly. I'd still like to know how he forged a
path from the Askinootow First Nation to the biggest movie
franchise in the world. Were there opportunities afforded his small
Plains Cree home that helped him? Or his journey solely the product
of his own tenacity and talent? Likely some combination of the two
paved his road to success, but how does he feel representing a small,
heretofore largely-unknown community and culture via the pop culture
juggernaut known as Twilight?
Then in turn I might ask Nikki Reed how
she feels about teenage girls. Reed's first film is Thirteen, an
especially wrenching movie about a girl who, at thirteen, begins to
experiment with drugs, sexuality, and self-harm when she is
introduced to another thirteen year-old who begins to exert her bad
influence. Reed doesn't play the protagonist, but rather the "bad"
thirteen year old who shoplifts, cuts herself, and tries to seduce
men. What's interesting is that Reed herself wrote the film, and did
so when she herself was thirteen. She allegedly based the film on her
own experiences which were those of the film's protagonist, not the
bad girl she ended up playing. Do you follow? She writes a movie,
which against all odds get read by the right person, greenlit by the
right studio, casts Holly Hunter as the concerned Mom, then casts
Reed as the bad influence that was her own undoing, and Evan Rachel
Wood as the main character. I wonder what the experience must have
been like for her, especially as that is the only writing credit she
has to her name. She has since appeared as an actress in typical teen
fare, like The O.C. and now, Twilight, a franchise bankrolled almost
exclusively by teenage girls. I wonder what she thinks about teenage
girls, whether she knows something we don't, and whether she'd ever
go back to being a teenager herself, or if the price was too high.
No price is too high at
Anthropologie. Crummy
knick-knacks? $80! Old watering can? $240! Peasant top? If you have
to ask you can't afford it! Why are our prices so high? Fuck you,
that's why! Ha ha ha! Anthropolgie!
Suck our dicks!
A report on the latest trends in
fashion. I don't know if it's a thing yet, but I have high hopes for
a men's onesie or, if you prefer, a Mansie. A Mansie would be a
trendy long t-shirt that, when it hits the crotch, changes fabric
colour and texture to look like high-end underwear. Calvin Klein
briefs, maybe, or Diesel boxers. Anway, the boxer material extends
below your danglies, then tucks underneath the crotch and buttons
somewhere in the ass area, with the back of the shirt. Like a onesie!
You'd wear this with a pair of jeans that covers the bottom part
(except maybe the underwear logo if you're materialistic like that).
The advantage to this seemingly uncomfortable design is this: no
matter how you bend or stretch in the Mansie, unlike a regular
t-shirt, this will never ride up your sides or lower-back because it
simply can't! It's affixed beneath your danglies! No longer will men
fear leaning forward to get the last chip off the floor and exposing
rolls of back fat. Leave your wobbly, white side rolls where they
belong, beneath your shirt. I figure my eating habits suggest the
self-control of a baby, so why not dress like one? Someone make this,
I'll buy it.
Finally, I suppose I'd have to feature
something about what to expect for Fall 2012. I have no idea. But I
do know the friends I have here, the people I've met, and the guy I
now live with 24/7 have made this transition pretty great. I may not
have a job yet, or any new little outfits, but I hope to be a bigger
and bolder Big City James this September and all year round. The
party's just getting started, time to circulate.
Still sad that you are gone, but I can't wait to read all about your adventures in the new littler-big city.
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