Do Clothes Make The Man?

There is much to support the view that it is clothes that wear us, and not we, them; we may make them take the mould of arm or breast, but they mould our hearts, our brains, our tongues to their liking.
Virginia Woolf

I don’t entirely agree with this quote. I work tirelessly to resist the moulding of my heart and brain and tongue. How about you?

Why is it that clothes seem to make the man? And by ‘clothing’, I speak broadly of all components of outward appearance. That visual shorthand is acceptable because of the sad fact of modern life, we’re too busy to get to know one another.

I’m wearing multi-colored dreadlocks because I’m working as a hairdresser again and I like them. In real estate I wasn’t too eccentric looking and people responded easily to my authority. Now people are surprised I’ve got a decent vocabulary and a college education. On the rare occasion someone isn’t hindered by social propriety, they’ll ask what I think is an oft unspoken question, “so why are you working as a hairdresser?”

I’m acutely aware of how white collar versus blue collar ‘clothing’ influences how we are perceived by our fellow man. People are fluent only in the expedient language of the visual shorthand because there’s no patience or pleasure for the literacy required to visualize a whole person. I’m sure there’s some defensiveness on my part because I guess I’m more accomplished than my appearance or occupation should indicate. But I’m irritated by people who suffer such poverty of imagination.

It would do the world some good if people traveled more adventurously between identities over the course of a lifetime. We ‘clothe’ ourselves in nothing more than transitory roles as we go from port to port.

Why be so attached to flimsy disguises and single destinations?

The Zero Transition, Stealth Approach to Advertising

Ever listen to talk radio? I’ve been listening on my drive to work each day.

I go back and forth between two stations, trying to avoid commercials, but I’ve noticed how marketing has really changed from years ago. I don’t know when it started, but it seems like the distinction between news or entertainment and the advertisements are becoming more and more invisible.

It’s a trend that I find kind of creepy and disturbing. And I think it’s just gonna get worse. Maybe it’s related to how much “reality” TV people seem to find as acceptable entertainment these days. I think it’s the only way to keep people’s attentions; consumers easily tune out obvious marketing messages.

So, I’ve noticed the DJ on the radio go right from whatever he was talking about and segue into an advertisement, for mattresses in particular. I can’t think of any other example, but it can’t be a singular occurrence. I’ve heard this happen a bunch of times over the last few months. Of course DJs have always been used to plug some product or whatever between regular programming but it’s always been a pretty clear delineation.

The other day, however, the next logical step was taken. The DJ was interviewing some author about her book. (I think the topic was relationships or something). Suddenly the DJ and the author were talking about what effects a good, or poor, night sleep’s might have on a relationship and…. BAM!
Suddenly the two of them are talking about the mattress company having its sale.

Anybody else seriously perturbed by this trend?

Tweet This

Hark – the song this season is tweet, tweet, tweet.

(and in the room the women come and go, talking of Michelangelo).

The attention span matches the appetite in my little bird friends and I know what’s for lunch today!

140 little seeds will sustain a frame of feathers quite nicely. On a gust of hot air, the lightest things can achieve great heights.

The Tyranny of Technology and the Demise of Good Salesmanship

My dad just returned his second new computer in a month. Since my mom has finally adapted to her new Mac, and my sister and brother-in-law are Mac devotees, my 70 year old dad, (who’s ancient machine was running Windows 98), figured it was time he went out and got one too.

That lasted about five minutes.

You really can’t teach an old dog new tricks. Like me, his needs are few in a world of constant upgrades. More bells and whistles, however, don’t necessarily add more value for us simpleton consumers. The learning curve stretches out away from us, no matter what we do, the horizon of mastery eludes us.

Dad returned the Mac, then went to the store to try again. This time, a second num-nut salesperson with similarly low pre-qualifying skills sold him a $900 PC with Windows 7. My dad was probably trying not to be too cheap. So he drifts in the middle isle of prices, figuring he should be ‘getting warmer’.

His big complaint with computers, however, is pretty much the same as mine. We just want the damn things to turn on and off quickly, and to be able to open and close applications without it taking four and a half minutes.

That’s it.Really.

If a salesperson had actually asked him a question or two they’d have figured out he’s a Neo Luddite technophobe- (no make that techno hater!) – just like his daughter. What he needs is something as similar and simple as what he’s had before. Extra memory perhaps.

What he needs is what my brilliant boyfriend figured out would be great for me after being miserable with my old laptop running a much hated Vista for several years.

I bought a $219 machine running XP, and spend fifty bucks to get 2 more mega or giga or whatever the fuck memory is these days, (like I give a rat’s ass), so the XP isn’t running on minimal.

BAM! I have a blazing fast computer!

And who needs all that crap that comes preloaded, stuff that’s overkill for my dad and me? Who needs a suite of “productivity tools”? We’re not a graphic designers, we don’t do multimedia presentations.

My dad still makes real estate flyers by gluing pictures of a house to a copies of a hand drawn floor plan and a list of amenities.

Both of us are  analogue refugees in a cold digital world.

As for salesmanship, well sales has become synonymous with order taking, as in “would you like fries with that?”

I’m beginning to think even the supposedly tech savvy guys at a place like Fry’s can’t possibly keep up with product knowledge anyway. With so many improvements coming faster and faster, how can they ever know their products well enough to be able to match them to a consumer?

Does anybody else feel they’ve gotten suckered, has bought completely unnecessary stuff because of a rampant zeal for more, bigger, better, new, the latest, blah blah bullshit, coupled with the decline of salesmanship?

What other options do we have?

Do you really enjoy spending hours researching and evaluating every piece of tech crap that probably has a shelf life of only about six months?

Squawking in the cacophony – Part Two – On Blogging.

We all tailor our communications to a particular audience; you speak differently with a colleague than with your best friend, right? Well, what happens when we shape our voices to speak to the broad audience of everybody, when everything we say is “on record”?

If your world is  filled with people who are just like you, or your thoughts are of the most mundane variety, there’s no problem. But how much of your eccentric interests should be revealed in a network that includes former employers or others from a professional life?

It’s an obvious social snub if you don’t add the former boss that “friends” you. And it certainly defeats the whole idea of keeping your network open and growing. But then do I really want to talk in detail about things that in no way enhance my professional personae- perhaps even detracts from it?

I’m no fan of decorum; I tend to err on the side of bluntness myself. But I really don’t want to offend, for example, the decent Christian people who think kindly of me. If I want to rant about superstition, ignorance and religion, however, there’s people in my sphere of influence who would take offense if my comments are too specific. My goal really isn’t to piss people off.

There are people you bother having certain conversations with and there are people you deliberately leave out of that conversation. The reality is, we discriminate in our communications  in both word and partner choices  in order to more sharply delineate meaning.

Well I guess I could adopt a stage name again, but juggling personae is the same kind of hassle as having too many account numbers and passwords to remember- what a headache! I don’t want to have to partition my identity into neatly understood categories just for the sake of the lowest common denominator of intelligence in as broad an audience as the entire world.

It’s unfortunate; many people cannot be relied upon to put as limited a thing as my professional persona into the larger context of my whole being. Quite frankly, however, most people aren’t the sharpest pencils in the box.

But what happens to specificity under such pressure? Is meaningful discourse even possible, or are we doomed to bland or veiled communications?

Bold Action and Empowerment

There’s tremendous power in bold action. That’s pretty common knowledge.

But I think I’ve stumbled upon the greatest, most well kept secret of life as it relates to taking action. Are you ready to be privy to such important knowledge? Do you solemnly swear to use your new found powers solely for the forces of goodness and light?

Really, it’s quite an epiphany when you think about it. But I’ve found that no matter what I look at, this secret applies. Literally everything.

Here’s the secret:

There’s no rules.

Amazing… but it’s true.

Oh there are lots of guidelines, and there are lots of people who are passionately attached to those small, safe, square-shaped guidelines. Many people would passionately argue those guidelines are the rules.

But I think the truth is, there’s no fuckin’ rules!
So know that my young padwan.  Go out today and kick some serious empire ass why don’cha? Live long and prosper…..etc. etc.

Squawking in the Cacophony- Social Networking

“I used to be with it, but then they changed what “it” was. Now, what I’m with isn’t it, and what’s “it” seems weird and scary to me.”

-Grandpa Simpson.

I’ve been skeptical about social networking for a long time and I still don’t post very often. I keep checking in though, seemingly worried I’m missing something.

Despite my efforts to limit my network to people I actually know in the “real” world, my network of acquaintances is still getting bloated. It would be worse if I added every “friend” suggested by the system. I hesitate over the ‘accept’ button for every friend request, but how can you say “no” to somebody from grade school? For a brief, nostalgic moment we both feel excited about the miracle of modern technology bringing us all together, (cue sappy music), but then what?

Well, then you have to wade through a muck of posts about far flung acquaintances eating their “yummy” soup, having a job that “sucks”, or something similarly stupid or irrelevant. It reminds me of watching TV.

Social networking and TV surely have many redeeming qualities, but both are so full of crap I often can’t be bothered to try and find the good stuff. (I haven’t had a TV for over fifteen years, but I watch a little when I’m visiting family or staying at a hotel.) Social networking seems to mirror the horror that is “reality TV” specifically; people seem to get really excited about  fifteen minutes of shame.

Watching “Real Housewives of Orange County” recently, I found myself appalled, incredulous, irritated and depressed; all at the same time. Then I got online and found myself checking Facebook because I got an email saying somebody commented on something. Twenty minutes later I shook myself out of the stupor; irritated that I got sucked into the “boob tube”… again.

The Lowest Common Denominator

I’ve decided I’m about 19 steps into my latest journey-of-a-thousand-miles. I’m not focused on the destination or the miles however; I’m interested in the lowest common denominator – each step. Actually, I’m interested in the lowest common denominator of most things.

Today is the two year anniversary of my cat’s death. I had written a poem titled Nineteen for all the years that she was a seemingly small thing in my life. She’d seen all the supposedly “big” stuff surge and recede; relationships, houses and careers continually came and went.

Hers was a simple routine that never deviated, however. It was boring by most accounts. I fed her twice a day, cleaned her box and we’d talk. Most nights she slept in my bed. But in the last years, her painless but stiff-legged hobble as she hurried to greet me was always wistfully endearing. I truly cherished every moment we spent together regardless of how…well unremarkable, I guess it might appear.

When I think back about various phases of my life, I see them in huge, broad brush stokes; my early twenties when I was clubbing and working as a hairdresser in Hollywood or the hectic years in real estate with barely a moment to contemplate turning the big “four-oh”.

The lowest common denominator of any crude chunk of life might be the tiny day. But buried somewhere in the tiny day, in between the busy business of eating and sleeping and other “ doing” activities, is where I think the only real stuff that matter resides; pensively curling up in a patch of sunlight perhaps.

Moments of doing nothing, sitting in the sun and contemplating both the miracle and the limit of inner-species communication are meaningless to an observer, however. Even in retrospect, when I am in observer-mode, such a thing is in danger of being cast aside as an insignificant activity.

Life is a convoluted equation indeed; how do you identify the lowest common denominator?

The Blessing Of 2009

I’m forty four and this is my fourth life make-over. I’d like to think this is my last one. After three sketches, isn’t my final master piece long overdue?

Sometimes I wonder if I should have forced myself to stay on a single trajectory. If I’d stayed some course, any course, there would have been some pay off; a seasoned position in life and a fatter pay check at least. Surely then I’d feel like I’d “arrived”.

Instead, I’ve traveled a fair distance along several life paths before abandoning them. I’ve been a hairdresser, an exotic dancer and an award winning Realtor. Almost a decade with each one, but each, in some way, I inevitably outgrew.

I shed personas like some people shed clothing.

My recent (and miserable) stint in corporate America finally allowed me to appreciate the otherwise foreign humor of “Dilbert” and “The Office”. That world, however, I couldn’t bear even a single year! And while I loved sociology, I simply could not imagine fitting into the narrow commitment of graduate school and the tight laces of an academic life.

What if I’d gone to the trouble to get my PhD only to decide I really want to make jewelry?! Seriously. People may already think I’ve thrown away my life due to lack of commitment. But when you’re too high an achiever, an abrupt shift in direction looks even more dangerous and foolhardy.

2009 gave me a tremendous blessing, however, in the form of six months of unemployment. What an amazing experience it is to get to spend six months re-examining one’s life when you’re smack dab in the middle of it!

I learned three things:

1) I can live very happily on far less money than I thought possible.

2) I’ve lived with waaay too much stress, (namely in real estate), but being type A is NOT inevitable.

3) I’ve had a pretty adventurous life and many interests, but for some reason I never allowed myself to really focus on the one thing I’ve always said was my true calling.

Damn – I’d thought I was fearless.