The Color of Money

Saint Patrick's Day

What happened? St. Paddy's Day used to be some drinking, and some wearing of green. Now, it's all drinking and wearing of green and apparently orange as well just in case Northern Ireland feels left out.

Seen on the subway:

- Green Eyeshadow
- Green Plastic Leprechaun Hat
- Green Fabric Scottish-inspired Soccer Cap
- Green and Silver Mardi Gras-inspired Beads
- Green Feather Bunny Ears
- Green Tees of every Style
- Green Scarf
- Green Handbag
- Green Socks
- Shamrock Earrings ... obvious color.

Is the vomit also green?

Snow Drive - pt 1

The cancellation flashed across the laptop screen and the choice instantly popped into my head. The flight to Charlotte tomorrow morning was now canceled, and I wasn't going to make my very-important meeting. Well, on the one hand, I could have made a few calls and see about getting the meeting re-scheduled for a different day. Of course, nothing is ever so black and white. Logic doesn't apply when money has been invested, people from other parts of the country are awaiting your arrival, the meeting had already been postponed from two weeks ago, and the window was closing - very, very fast.

The weather outside my window looked exactly as the forecasters had predicted. Snow everywhere, winds whipping and visibility like McMurdo Station. A quick check on Google. 10 hrs. That was the drive time from Brooklyn to Charlotte. A quick check of the weather. Well, it looked bad but mainly in Jersey and Pennsylvania, and of course New York. If I left before the worst hit NYC, I could possibly do the drive in about 12 maybe even 14 hrs.

I calmly called my wife. Told my partner, and the sales guys in Charlotte. Packed and squeezed in a quick ramen lunch. 2 pm and I was in the car on the way out of Brooklyn.

The 1st 30 minutes was so easy. No cars on the road. Blizzard conditions, yes, but manageable. I had a long drive ahead of me and I drove as cautiously as possible. No sense rushing if the goal was to make an 11 am meeting tomorrow. I was at the Holland Tunnel in what must have been record time for such adverse conditions. New Jersey never looked so manageable. Once on the interstate things started to deteriorate, albeit very slowly. Driving 30 mph was fine until it dawned that even that was an unsafe speed. Semis, SUVs, sedans, trucks, coupes. All manner of makes and models were on the road with me now. But what was normally considered a rather empty interstate was now a one lane snow-covered country road with the occasional side lane for passing. Still, I was encouraged by the fact that I was moving and making good time in this tempest of a snow storm.

Was I scared? I didn't really have time to think about it. I was so focused on the road, the cars around me, and the ice that kept creeping up the lower part of my windshield. Plus, wiping the excess condensation off the inside of my windshield every minute.

By now, I was probably about two hours or so into the journey and approaching the Jersey - Pennsylvania border. Looking ahead, the sign said "Last Exit in Jersey". Wow. I was doing ok. Then I looked around and realized that there were no cars around me - front or back. The Interstate was now one barely there lane with snow banks that were about a foot high and rising. I couldn't even see more than 20 feet around me with all the snow coming down, blowing around and swirling. Michael Kay described it best when he said that it was like being in a snow globe of New York.

That was my first moment of real fear and regret. I had driven in impossible conditions alone, and now for this desolate stretch I was really alone. The snow seemed to eat up every bit of road ahead of me and the tracks of the cars that had passed before were rapidly disappearing. I was scared. I didn't pray. I thought about choice and how I had made my choice to risk my life. I thought about how I needed to not dwell on my mistake and keep focused on the task at hand. It wasn't about getting to Charlotte at this point, it was just about driving in survival mode.

A good 30 minutes passed before I made it into Pennsylvania. I thought that the worst was over and I was well on my way to Charlotte. But as I've learned since - it 's probably in my karma to be tested beyond what my feeble understanding of my mental threshold is. My sixth grade teacher once told me that she thought I was one of the better students of that particular class of hers, but that I had never really been tested so I would never know what I was made of - until my back was against the wall. I've spent the following years trying to live up to her expectations and tackling every challenge like it was the penultimate test.

Perhaps that's why I chose to embark on the drive in the first place. I needed to pass this test.

Man with the Golden Companion

10/8/09

For someone riding a mobility scooter, he was far from the usual stereotype of a rider. He wasn’t overweight. Not particularly old. No real visible signs of disability. If one didn’t know better this would another George Costanza-like situation. Not pretty.

He was dressed like an old high school teacher. Attempting to dress up and convey some gravitas, but ending up looking rumpled and a caricature of what academics think is fashionable yet comfortable. In his case, it was a dark navy blue blazer that though the standard two button, the cut and the design betrayed the truth that it was probably bought a good decade or more ago. The lapels were slightly larger and the blazer itself was about a size too large for his frame.

Adding to that lost fashion sense was a navy blue crewneck worn under that blazer. A curious choice to pair with a blazer for him, but it went perfectly with the faded black denim jeans he was wearing. Both were equally generous with the fading of color, and in keeping with his now obvious near monotone taste in color.

The black chunky boots were a real surprise though. For a person on a scooter to have these hybrid hiking and walking boots was an oxymoron right? If one isn’t doing much walking, why wear those meant for others who are to do much of it?

His glasses on a black tortoiseshell frame completed his look.

At his feet was a dark grey messenger bag. A cell phone sticking out of the side pocket, looking like it was supposed to be in more comfortable quarters.

He spent the majority of his train ride reading the New York Times. The boardsheet in all of its splendor on what is normally a train too crowded for spreading out.

Golden Companion

Man 10/8/09

Golden Companion. Rather, Golden Companion II. That was the name on the prominent label affixed to the front and rear. The Golden Companion II is an electric mobility scooter. Now a scooter in a NYC subway is a rare sight and one simply cannot let this pass without a closer look.

It was a metallic navy blue scooter. A large sticker on the steering column to indicate the name, Golden Companion II, and an even larger sticker on the rear of the scooter on the casing where the battery is located to do the same.

It was a man sitting on this scooter. The seat was similar to a seat one would find on an electric wheelchair. Large back and seat, though curiously no seat belt on this one. Perhaps it was removed? The grey chair was made from a PVC material and the foam sticking out from the worn corners suggested a lot of mileage. It was also slightly discolored and darkened adding to the patina of age and abuse.

At the very top of the steering column was a small circle headlight flanked on both sides by black foam padded handlebars. There were no brake levers on that handlebar, but directly underneath each grip was a small lever obviously meant for the thumbs – the left was marked R, and the right was marked F. On the dash board was a battery meter in the middle of that rectangle console. To the left and right were two little buttons – one for the headlight and the other remained a mystery. At the bottom of the steering column was a rubberized accordion sleeve that was most probably there to protect a suspension or some sort of hinge.

The rather thick chassis sat on three wheels. One in front, and two in the rear. All grey in color and about 10 inches in diameter. There were also two other smaller wheels right next to the rear wheels. Those two smaller wheels were roller wheels that sat off the ground, and probably there to aid transportation of the vehicle.

On the front panel of the battery casing was a large faux wood sticker. Not sure why it was there since it didn’t obviously serve a function nor was it aesthetically appropriate.

His feet rested on a large footbed that essentially dominated the chassis of the scooter. On the front edging of the footbed was a protective metallic gold strip that ran the length of that edge. In keeping with the theme, there were portions that were held down by masking tape and a small portion that was missing completely.

The Original

Woman 9/24/09

It was a simple tee with a rather striking black and white image. At first, the initial reaction was one of irony – Oh, how cute that she’s wearing a t-shirt with the face of Pam Anderson, who is clearly the antithesis of everything this woman stands for. Focusing more on the face on that tee, it began to be obvious that it wasn’t the infamous Pamela Anderson who was being subtly mocked, it was the great Brigitte Bardot who was being celebrated.

Brigitte Bardot the icon. Brigitte Bardot the woman who epitomized French sensuality in Fifties and whose influence is still felt today even though the height of her fame was in the Sixties. Unlike those who needed to die young to remain so, she is still remembered as an effervescent beauty who conjures fantasies at the mere mention of her name. What’s probably more striking is that instead of being just remembered for her sexuality, she’s long been a favorite of fashionistas as well.

This fashionista wasn’t channeling Bardot but perhaps celebrating her French style. The tee aside, she was in dark skinny jeans tucked into tall leather boots. The boots just like the jeans were unadorned and offered clean simple lines for the eye. The heels were just about 3 inches and the tan rich enough to impart the craftsmanship and the probable high price.

On her lap was a large handbag. It was an ivory leather with just two handles. All other details though were obscured by the large cotton anorak that she had on which partially cloaked the handbag. The anorak was meant to sit loosely on her shoulders. A thin canvas jacket for cooler summer or warmer spring days had found itself in demand on this cool late early Fall day in NYC. It was a sand color with a hood that had drawstrings of the same color. One could make out the zipper which indicated that the hood was removable. The zipper of the anorak was brass, but the buttons on the side hand pockets were both brown. The relative simplicity of this long jacket was essentially in keeping with her signature taste.

She had a long pixie cut. The hair was dyed in what looked to be two different layers – brown on the outside and black on the inside. The roots were brown, so this just wasn’t a simple case of her black hair growing out. It was a deliberate dye pattern.

Her make-up was equally deliberate. Light on the blush. Heavy on the mascara to highlight her eyes. And a pale powder around her cheeks to offset the pink of the blush. The eyebrows were painted brown. There were a light sprinkling of freckles across her face.

She looked like she stepped out of a fashionista Manga comic.

The Color of Money

Woman. 9/22/09

At first glance, one sees one basic item of clothing in an innocuous green. But take a closer look, and you realize that one item leads to another – the subtlety was in the delicate balance of shades. Green yet not green.

So yes, it was green. Green everywhere but in all different shades and hues, and varying textures.

Given the warm weather that had enveloped NYC in this first week of Fall, the boots were a clear calling card of someone ready for cooler climes. Green boots which were just the kind you’d expect in early Fall. Not tall at all, reaching just to her lower calf. The green? A pea green that wasn’t unlike a rich split pea soup from one of NYC’s fabled restaurants. The textured leather added another dimension and somehow was able to soften the look of the boot. There was a zipper on the back of each boot from heel to top – dark green in color. On the lower sides of each boot, a double helix stitch pattern in a dark green thread. No socks were visible on her legs.

In keeping with the early Fall theme, she had on a pair of skorts. Ending just at knee level, the skort was actually a seersucker fabric obscured by the dark olive green background color finished with thin bankers stripes done in a light green. One could also see empty belt loops at the waistline.

Perhaps to no surprise, she was wearing long sleeves on this day as well. This was green in all its glory. A clear green like Astro Turf in the night stadium when viewed on HD. It was your basic cotton wide scoop neck top. There was a skinny black strap visible on her left shoulder which turned out to be the black camisole she had on underneath.

Her handbag was aquamarine. Not a surprise really. It had a Coach leather brand tag attached to one of the handles. One the front of the bag was a pocket with a gold buckle though it wasn’t readily apparent if it was for functional access to the pocket or for pure aesthetics. Since the bag was open, you could see that the interior had a multi-colored striped lining.

The rest of her was actually refreshingly simple. Her hair was tied up in a loose bun. And on each earlobe was a thin long gold chain which was holding a single white pearl. Her right ring finger had a simple gold wedding band.

She was reading a thick hardcover book. With it open, you could see a purple Post-it that she had used to mark something on a previous page. The title and author on the front cover was obscured by a rather large paper library tag – in large font, it was marked Baruch College Inter-library Loan.

LV in Pink

Woman 8/17/09

You’ve got to hand it to Marc Jacobs. The man who turned Murakami and Sprouse into household names in middle America. Jessica Simpson knows their names.

She was carrying the unmistakable Louis Vuitton Stephen Sprouse handbag. It was the regular Sprouse style writing but in hot pink against the dark brown background. You could spot this bag from a country mile away. The zipper was open and she had a Snapple bottom and what appeared to be her breakfast in a small Ziploc bag sitting at the very top of the opening.

Her outfit was just as eye-catching as her bag, just as fashionable though not as loud color-wise. Her jeans were skintight. From her ankles to her waist, the denim was a second skin. The jeans themselves were of a dark denim but high-waisted, not the low-slug skinny jeans favored by so many today. Perhaps it was because of her full figure, but those fashionable high-waisted dark jeans really worked for her. The label on the rear was Guess.

Her top was this chiffon and silk halter top. An interesting choice for the cool weather. The floral print was a watercolor of reds and greens in a manner that evoked Marc Jacobs – feminine yet contemporary. Definitely something Anthropologie would knock off, or perhaps it was something purchased from Forever 21.

On her feet were a pair of flip-flops from Havaianas. The straps were gold and there was a distinct print on the footbed of the sandals. Interesting choice of footwear but perhaps consistent relative to the halter top.

The large gold earrings on her accentuated her hair and face. The hoop earrings were so large they reached almost to her shoulders and threatened to overwhelm her but the thinness of the rings made them much more subtle – as subtle as large hoop gold earrings can be. The asymmetrical cut of her hairstyle confirmed her fashionista tendencies. A left to right part with severe bangs tilting left but with hair long enough to reach her upper back.

On her left hand was a silver bracelet formed with open links. A silver heart charm was attached.

Young at Heart

Man 8/30/09

Someday when we’re all old and slow. We’ll either treat our clothes as a bother and not worthy of our limited time remaining on Earth, or we’ll do the best we can because that’s the kind of people we are. Wonder which side each of us will choose.

He was an undeniably old man. A face that reminded one of old Chinese sages that have been a part of popular culture for 2000 years. White eyebrows so long they almost seemed in need of grooming. Age spots on the edges of the face. Slight puffy bags under his eyes. Curiously, no major wrinkles accept for around his mouth.

His forehead and hair were hidden by his navy-blue fabric hat. It was a standard fishing hat with a short brim and three brass grommets on each side.

This ancient style guy was wearing a polyester track jacket. It was a cream colored standard track jacket with green and black stripes that started just below the shoulders on the front, and paralleled vertically down the back. On the left breast was a logo for Winslow, and on the right bicep was a green triangle outlined with the words Winslow Sports Era inside. His zip collar was open and you could just make out the green accent under the collar. The frayed cuffs indicated a well worn jacket.

Underneath that jacket was a white shirt that had somewhat yellowed with age. It was a standard issues spread collar with a tab underneath. This gentleman was buttoned up all the way. In his left breast shirt pocket was a large bulge that was probably his wallet. A curious place if for such an important accessory.

The pants were a matching shade of beige. And thought they were definitely of a synthetic material, the cut was non-pleated. I’d guess the pattern was from the 80’s prior to the explosion of pleated pants. Holding up those pants was a black leather belt. A gold buckle with a simple circular design.

The best thing on this dapper gentleman? His shoes. They were faux leather loafers. In a cream color similar to the jacket. A small metal logo on the outside front top corner of each shoe. The cream was accented with brown strips that weaved subtlety around the soles. The best part? The man was sockless.

Ever the gentleman, he was carrying a slim umbrella. It was medium sized and the fabric was a madras pattern in a primarily blue-green color with hints of orange. Paired with that umbrella was a tote bag with long fabric straps. The cotton bag was in a brown and cream houndstooth check pattern. A small bag overall, but for his small frame – perfect.

Throughout the subway ride, his left hand would be trembling. Every so often the soft tremors would migrate and his legs would be affected as well.

Hats for the Memories

Man 7/30/09

The Return of the Fedora. Kennedy tried to kill it in 1960, and two-score and nine years later, the fedora has officially marked a new renaissance. Not a return to glory like the old days, but at least a return to respectability.

As such, this man’s fedora was not to be ridiculed though admiration was not in the cards either. Just a philosophical tip ‘O the hat (all pun intended). His was a new hipster fedora. More a trilby than a fedora really. Black and white in color, and in a faux Prince of Wales check pattern. It was sitting above his head, exposing his full head of dark wavy hair.

With his long thin sideburns and his thinly sculpted goatee featuring a soul patch under his lip, there was no mistaking this gentleman for another. He was a hipster and he was not afraid to tell the world.

The standard uniform was thus observed on this man.

Jeans – dark, dirty and indigo. Skinny with cuffs folded up.

Shoes – possibly used. Very dirty but very Euro in style. White leather athletic-inspired, with 3 velcro straps – two of which were non-functioning bungee bands.

Black Tee – crew neck. Blue and white graphic across the front stretching around to the back. More tattoo or street-inspired than irony-filled.

Sunglasses – new shiny faux Ray-Ban Wayfarer sunglasses hanging off the tee collar.

Canvas Messenger Bag – khaki, again quite worn and old looking. A red, white and navy fabric strap giving a hint of Americana.

Frankly, he looked like he was a hipster who dressed like he shopped at JC Penney or Kohl’s. Other than the trilby, nothing on him was authentic and they all seemed manufactured to confer that hipster vibe.

Nothing we dislike more than a faux-hipster.

Calling all Bikers! Ride for Charity.