Zemblan Grammar

(As Brenda Dickson would surely say.)

What, you still haven’t watched that Brenda Dickson video I recommended a while back?  Why not?  Is it because you hate laughter and joy?  Well fine then, if you hate laughter and joy so much, go see Mamma Mia!; it will render you unable to feel happiness ever again. And yes, the exclamation point is part of the official title of that film - proof, as my friend S. says, that we should know they are trying way too hard. If, on the other hand, you do not hate laughter, go on and watch the Brenda Dickson video.  It is priceless entertainment.  She has a whole row of knee-high red leather boots in her closet, just like Wonder Woman!

And now, moving on to the actual subject of this post: my furniture.  I know it’s an enthralling topic, so try to keep your pants on there.  (Yes, you.)  I have so much furniture in my living room now it is almost obscene in its excess.  I normally like to keep things minimal, but I think I could host the entire department for cocktails if I wanted to.  Here’s what I’ve got going on:

All extremely fancy, self-assembled, cheap Swedish goods.

In the above shot, please note the giant paper lantern on the upper left.  It is huge and glorious like the sun, and was formed about four and a half billion years ago by the rapid collapse of a hydrogen cloud, which is to say that I bought it at a yard sale for ten dollars.

And yes, I took the photos on the wall, with the exception of one that was taken by my friend M. and one that is merely a contact sheet made from a roll of film taken by my parents sometime in the 1970s.

Oh, and what’s that we have here to the left of the futon?  OH YES, IT IS MY FAINTSY NEW COUCH, BITCHES!  My friend K. passed this gem on to me when she moved out of her apartment (and now she is gone, sniff), and I feel extremely lucky to have it.  I love the squared-off shape, clean lines, and overall modern design of it.

(Also: did you notice the top edge of ANOTHER futon in the background, by the doorway?  That one’s not mine, lest you start thinking I am some greedy, couch-crazed freak.  That one I am storing for a friend who’s out of town this summer.)

But let’s look more closely at the upholstery fabric, shall we:

Here you can see why my friend K. refers to this as the “Kama Sutra” couch - the illustration style with those exaggerated profiles looks quite similar to the most traditional Kama Sutra illustrations, doesn’t it?  But surely, nothing dirty or untoward is going on here!  Well, maybe not.  As one of my flickr friends commented, “I believe this is the first piece of furniture I’ve ever seen with a captivity narrative woven into it.” And later, “This is a rare and important piece of sofa history you’ve come across.”  Isn’t it, though?  What do you think?

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And now, please, welcome to my campus office!

Before I left town for my short vacation, I had to go into school and pack up all my things in the office (books, files, desk doo-dads, and so on) so that they department could have new furniture installed.  All of the folks on my floor are being newly outfitted for next year, and the excitement, it has been large. Finally, on Friday, I was able to come in and get things unpacked and set up. (I had to do this before Monday, so as to beat my new officemate to the prime desk locations, etc., though it turns out I needn’t have rushed: she has yet to make an appearance.)

Here’s what the new stuff looks like:

Please note the clean desktop, the empty in-and-out trays sitting on my bookshelf, and the general neatness and orderliness.  This is a truly rare moment, and will likely not be observable again during this academic year.  But isn’t it lovely?

Now, however, please note my ridiculous new filing cabinet.  I call it The Monster:

You’ll see that I could not fit the entire thing into the frame of the photo.  It is so big, and my office is so small, see, that it was physically impossible for me to back far enough away from it to photoraph it properly.  It is fucking huge.  It’s almost as tall as I am — I’m estimating it’s about 5′7″ tall (1.7 meters).  It towers over some of my more petite collagues.  How are they supposed to use the top drawer? Or reach anything on top of it?

With two of these, two desks, two bookshelves, and an extra computer table in our tiny office, it was a game of real-life Tetris trying to put it all into a reasonable arrangement.  I will also note that the furniture delivery/installation guys gave up on this project completely.  They simply stacked the computer table on top of one of the desks, upside-down.  That was a real pleasure for me to fix by myself, I assure you.  They were like Ned Flanders’s Beatnik parents: “We’ve tried nothing, and we’re ALL OUTTA IDEAS, MAN.” Thanks for that, Beatnik furniture guys.

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And now you’ve heard my thoughts about my own furniture, but if you’d like to see some of the furniture I only wish I could have, check out my post on the fabulousness that is the Mad Men set.  That show is just so pretty.

Reader John asked me a while back about what I think he should wear when he hits the “‘parties with women in little black dresses’ scene,” and I am here to help! And you guys may need to help, too, since I fear my “help” will prove woefully inadequate. As in, “I think pants are a good idea.”

First, though, let me tell you what the guys who attended the prom were wearing: crap! That is what they were wearing! Total crap! One guy showed up in cargo shorts; a couple of them had on jeans. To a prom! The unmitigated audacity!

It wasn’t all bad, though: the best-dressed guy there was wearing a somewhat nautical tux jacket (white lapel piping on basic black) with the appropriate shirt, bowtie, and cummerbund, but he had on a pair of shorts with lobsters emblazoned all over them. It sounds horrible, but it completely fit the kitsch “Rock Lobster” theme, and he won many cool points and looked cute, too. The second-best-dressed guy had on khakis and a light blue dress shirt. It totally went downhill from there, what with the bare calves and the unholy amount of plaid.

Here are my thoughts on that, though: I think men in general tend to be suspicious of events where they may have to dress up, especially if said events are organized by ladies, involve dancing, and especially if they include the word “prom.” Thus, I theorize, they tend to dress down with the idea of preserving their tenuous masculinity in front of their male peers.

Well, I’m sure that all the unshaven, jeans-clad boys at the prom party thought they were just as manly as ever, but they did not succeed in impressing any ladies, that is for sure. (We forgave them, of course, since it is all in fun, and the drunker we all got the less appalling it all seemed.)

So what would impress the ladies? Real big-boy trousers, for starters. That means no jeans, no shorts, and nothing with cargo pockets. If ladies are in LBDs and heels and Real Jewelry, there is just no place for jeans. It is time to put away childish things, guys! For the fit, I am a big fan of the flat front. Pleats flatter no one, let’s face it. I think pleated men’s trousers might actually be illegal in France anyway, and for that I commend the French.

Moving on! Dress shirts that fit well and are crisply ironed (& stain-free! — I only add this because I know too many people who need to be reminded of it, not because I assume John has stains in his shirts or something) always look sexy, in my opinion. Depending on the fanciness factor, a tie is optional. (But if the invitation says something like “black tie optional,” a tie is in fact NOT optional. In that case the “option” is a choice between a regular suit and a tuxedo.) If it’s not that fancy, I kind of like the less dressy look of an open-collared shirt and a sport jacket. If no one else is wearing a jacket, you can take it off, but it elevates the outfit over the boring khakis/dress-shirt combo that is seen in office cubicles worldwide.

Generally, clothes that fit well and are crisp will always look nice. I also think something more interesting than the boring office color palette of khaki/grey/white/light blue would be a good idea. Guys sometimes seem suspicious of color, which I don’t get. Wear something that complements your skin tone or eye color and that won’t fade into the background.

As for hair, I don’t know. I have no idea how to start describing men’s hair! I personally like short hair that’s a little messy or spiky on top à la Jamie Bamber, which a lot of guys in Zembla wear (excepting the hippies and their stinky dreads, of course), but the style that seems most popular here in New Wye is a bit longer on the top with messy bangs. A little bit Beatles bowl-cut and a little bit Zac Ephron. As to what may be fashionable in France, I have no idea.

Wait, since when have I ever just stopped when I didn’t know something? The magic of google.fr will resolve this issue! And here we go. What a fabulous website. It promises hair that is “bluffant et agréable à la fois.” Fabulueux. Take their advice at your own risk, however. (Um, actually, that disclaimer applies to my advice, too.)

If I look at that French men’s hair website any longer I am going to fall into some kind of internet fashion abyss, so I had better wrap this up. Here are my basic rules of fashion:

1. Clothes should fit well. (No baggy trousers or saggy knees or highwaters.)

2. Clothes should be classic but not boring.

3. You shouldn’t have to think about your clothes all night — instead, think about your awesome dance moves!

OK, readers, male or female, please join in and advise! (Suomichris, I am looking at you! You are a guy and are fashionable!) I seriously know nothing much about men’s fashion. I was just pretending here! Help John go win the heart of a foxy French lady!