The Captain's Business

February 25

Polo shirt made entirely out of the Lacoste logo. Wouldn’t this look good on top of three other polos with the collars popped? (Via Neatorama.)

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Realization.

The only way that people will bother to look at my Tumblr is if I post cat pictures. So from now on, I’ll just post cat pictures with EVERYTHING. Except this because I am lazy.

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:>

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February 17

thebigspoonnoless:

somethingchanged:

“I know it’s really considered rude to bite the hand that feeds, but a good example of a doomed campaign that at least has a human touch is the New York Philharmonic’s new logo, right? It’s shocking, and the thing is we all know it. Urrybody. It’s nobody who thinks this thing is alright. I showed it to my web designer and he looked like somebody hat opened the Arc of the Covenant. I mean, look at the M! Look at the W! This is really some entry-level Adobe™ Illustrator put-text-on-a-line shit right there. But what I like about it is that you can tell that somebody hunched over a desk really loving on that W. Somebody really cared for that H, and its busted twin. Somebody manipulated that raggedy-ass K by hand and somebody else walked by the desk and said, “good work, team!” It’s touching, in its way. But I would actually like to ask if there exists a sentient being somewhere who thinks that logo is even remotely okay, and if so, please announce yourself (by Name) to the concierge’s desk and tell me WHY.” Nico Muhly

oh god, i think this every time i see bad design

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February 1

January 30, 2010.

I’ve been back in New York City for the past week, visiting friends and such. We decided to go out for dinner on Saturday. However, we waited too long to make reservations to our first pick, so we scrambled to find the next option. We managed to get reservations at 10:00 for a place called Mercer Kitchen. We left a bit early to shop around and pass the time, as there are a lot of clothing stores in the area. Unfortunately, we did not anticipate that all the stores would close at 9:00. We went to the restaurant around 9:15 to wait, and they told us that we could hang around the bar until our table was open.

We talked for a while, I became slightly detached from the conversation. Then the bartender came to our side of the bar to get my attention and tell me that a man would like to buy me a drink. All of us were rather shocked, but I went ahead and accepted. I mean, it was free. I find alcohol repulsive, so I asked for a ginger ale (which they make with fresh ginger). He delivers it, and tells me it’s from Armando, a suited gentleman in the middle of the bar. We spent the next couple of minutes trying to determine who it was before he looked over and made eye contact with me. I nodded to him, and he nodded back with a somewhat seductive expression. My friends and I laughed and joked about it for a good time, as they’re constantly commenting on my appeal to homosexual men. They prodded me to go thank him, but I decided I would just let it go because I honestly had no idea what I would say after approaching him. After a few more minutes of figuring out what to make of the situation, the bartender came with another ginger ale from Armando. I decided then that I should go thank him and stop him from sending anything more because I am both straight and taken.

I walked up to shake his hand and introduce myself, then he put his hand on my shoulder and pulls me a bit closer, which completely threw me off. He looked over to my group of friends and asked if my girlfriend was over there. I told him that she was, and he said that he just likes to stir things up a little. We talked for a bit, and he told me that he’s a native New Yorker and that he works for Paul Smith. Paul Smith is apparently some huge fashion brand that I’ve never heard of, but I assumed it was a big deal because my friend’s jaw nearly hit the ground when I told her. I acted like I knew what he was talking about to avoid looking like an idiot. He was the top salesman for three years, has dressed celebrities, and so forth. I thanked him for the drinks and he told me, “Well, I like what I see, and we’ll just leave it there. I’ll see you soon.”

I returned to my group and our table was finally ready. It wasn’t until after we saw Armando leave the bar and walk back upstairs to the street that I realized that this man could probably help me get a nice job. I want to stay in New York for a while, and he is the only successful person I know in the city. Everyone else is a college student. Unfortunately, I didn’t get his card, his number, or even his last name. So when we returned to my girlfriend’s dorm, I searched for “Armando Paul Smith” on Google. I found a Yelp page for a Paul Smith store in SoHo, a block away from the Mercer Kitchen. There was a comment on the page telling people to ask for Armando, their favorite salesperson. I called the store the next day to ask if Armando was working, but he doesn’t work on Sundays. So I left my name and number, and told the man to tell him that I’m the long haired gentlemen he met on Saturday night.

So now I’m waiting. It seems a little silly, he probably won’t be able to get me a job. But I still have two free ginger ales and an interesting evening to talk about.

(no homo)

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