I said I’d write about why my husband is responsible for every bad thing that’s happened to me , but let’s face it: I lied.
Well, not lied, just deferring to my inevitable urge to weigh in on the New York Times/Hip Shusters article. My first comment? Everyone: STOP SENDING ME THE FREAKIN’ LINK!
There…I feel much better.
The second? The PubLib discussion on the article which morphed into a heartfelt discussion about fashion. I am, however, disturbed by the detailed confessions regarding outréwear. Much reference was made to Ann Taylor and Talbots, with the occasional nod to The Gap as evidence of librarian haute couture. People! If you ain’t sportin’ a Moschino Cheap & Chic leopard print pencil skirt topped with an Anna Sui turtleneck with over-the-knee Chanel suede boots while rootin’ around network cabling underneath the reference desk by fall, you ain’t wearin’ fashion. (Why is it I drop the Gs from my gerunds when scoldin’ y’all?)
The third comment? I’m going to have to agree with Free Range Librarian on this one, but with an ever-so-slight difference. I too feel condescended to, but not so much over the age thing as the now-codifed subtext that unless something (e.g., hobbies, fashion, professions) is adopted by blithe, dripping-with-irony and mostly white twenty-to-thirty-something hipsters, it’s not legitimate, or worse, uncool. (Actually, we’ve come to that point in our culture where once the masses deem something is uncool it immediately becomes cool. The cycling begins.)
So we’re cool. For now. But I’m waiting for the supreme test of hipster-profession legitimacy: garbage collection. Not the Al Goreish, I’m-doing-this-for-the planet vision of waste collecting, mind you, but the real, grease-trapping, what-the-hell-is-in-THAT-can? kind of work.
I’m not holding my breath.
Notes From the Byte Void Dept:
Ever wonder what a gigantic Jane Austen orgasm would be like? You may find out come this fall. (Sorry; I just couldn’t help myself….)
Notes From the Professional Homefront Dept:
Because I’ve accepted a temporary position, my blogging may be even more haphazard than usual. What’s the position? Let’s just say don’t ever tell me the book was damaged because your dog ate it. Not without $75 in hand….