As a former magazine intern myself, I remember fuming in the bathroom at a work event after a tongue-lashing by an overstressed assistant. After pulling myself together, I walked out the bathroom door trying to recall why I'd wanted to work at a magazine so badly. Then I turned a corner and there, in all his tanned glory, stood Michael Kors -- and voilá -- clarity. I put up with all the drama and stress because there were times that the job was just awesome....and I swear, as Vishnu is my witness, the first words to cross my mind were "Who the $%&* is Michael Kors?" and it took a trip to Wikipedia to find out and that's when I realized that my subscription to Cosmo lapsed, like, sixteen years ago...
Monday, July 05, 2010
Out of touch.
So I'm reading an article at CNN.com about jobs that are worth more than the salary because of the perks, and the writer says
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18 comments:
Gee, she got a chance to see an actual fashion designer! And he had a tan!
Stay in the puddle in the parking lot, dear, if you go into the kiddie pool you'll be out of your depth.
Michael Kors? Was he the one who made the oceans recede, or the one who makes ladies shoes?
You had a subscription to Cosmo? Huh. I wouldn't have guessed.
Jim
I frickin' refuse to believe that you ever had a subscription to Cosmopolitan.
You're not old enough to have been reading it back when it was a literary magazine.
Used to scan my wife's copy of Cosmo, back before it became GlamPedo Monthly with 14-year old covergirls made up like JonBenet.
But like Matt G, just for the articles.
AT
Trying very hard not to bruise your feelings, Tam, but I just don't see you as That Cosmo Girl.
Even Florence King once wrote for Cosmo...
Yup, 'Rat, and she said it was easy money, too. Apparently there was a formula, or template, or something, and if you followed that and just changed details each time, you could basically write the same thing over and over, and get paid for it.
rick, a lot of us had aspirations to normality when we were younger, before we realized we'd never fit in with the normals, anyway. These days, I just try to _appear_ normal, for the sake of good manners, and avoiding of lynch mobs etc.
...and I swear, as Vishnu is my witness, the first words to cross my mind were "Who the $%&* is Michael Kors?"
Well, that makes 2, no strike that, 3 of us. Whilst reading this I turned and asked the lovely Mrs. "Who is Michael Kors?" Her response: "Isn't that the beer guy?" Now off to Bing/Google to discover just who Michael Kors really is....
Ex-wife used to get mad when I called it Cleavage.
And yeah, at least four people today quietly asked "Who the H is Michael Kors?"
Add me to the list of people who didn't know who Michael Kors is.
Although, from the way she wrote about him, I first assumed he was a centerfold model.
Don't know, don't want to (When someone is described as "standing there in all his tanned glory", it just sorta flicks my interest-switch right the hell off).
Theater is full of starry-eyed folks who just want to rub-up against the AwesomeVibe and have it feel all tingly - so much so that the price for paid work is incredibly low, since there's a constant onslaught of those-who-will-do-anything just to be there, waiting to knock someone else aside for the chance.
Kinda like some gun-shops.
CNN will rot your brain, my dear...
Add one more; don't know, and don't care. Only reason I know the names of the newer and up & coming celebritutes is our 'news' media considers their latest boob job/drug bust/commitment/divorce to be 'news'. And sometimes seems won't shut up about them.
So the pays sucks, but its okay 'cause you ran across Michael Kors? I could understand it if you were working at Colt a century ago and saw John Moses Browning.....
That's how I view myself as a newspaper reporter. Occasionally, you get to meet some cool (famous and not) people who make it all worth it.
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