Why has it taken so long to think of this?
A long e-mail chain started by Man Repeller’s own Carlye, ignited by Emily Nussbaum’s critique on the evolution of Sex and The City for the New Yorker, titled, “Difficult Women: How Sex and The City lost its good name” eschewed the article in question (which is really, really worth a read) and raised an interesting point. “Why hasn’t Charlotte Olympia created one of their ubiquitous clutches with a post-it insert that reads, “I’m sorry, I can’t, Don’t hate me–“.
Is not that post-it the precise pillar for which female friend, broken heart reconciliation is built on? If I had a sticky pad for every time I tried to console a woman, (or more frequently myself) with the phrase, “it could have been worse, at least he didn’t make like Berger and break up with you on a post-it,” I’d probably be liable to buy the damn brand. After concluding that a post-it clutch would actually fare much better in the Olympia Le-Tan format, the e-mail chain continued recollecting popular verses from the most omnipresent movies and TV shows to have affected our young adult lives, trying to distill them in the equally omnipresent fashion commodities to have affected our bank accounts.
“What about Jesse Spano’s (Saved by The Bell) brief pill-popping snafu?” I’m so excited! I’m so excited! I’m so scared! — Of course these would look perfect on Jennifer Fisher’s preexisting pill necklaces (they typically read “crazy” and “chill” in their current iterations). You’d have to wear three together, scribed in order, “Excited”, “Excited”, “Scared.”
And because you know it is never a women-affected-by-pop-culture story without at least some mention of Clueless, maybe when every brand was doing clogs, one such label could have thought to offer a pair in purple suede with the words “Broken In” engraved in the heels. Doesn’t Cher Horowitz deserve that kind of adulation? Breaking in clogs is like, a huge coup.
Then there is Mean Girls. Sure we could have proposed a pink sweatshirt that reads “Wednesday,” or the ugliest effing skirt you have ever seen, but where’s the creativity in that? If we remember correctly, Glen Coco’s receipt of not one, not two, not even three but four candy cane grams was an enormous accomplishment — practically the equivalent of holding a world record in an Olympic sport (ballroom dancing). Perhaps spraying ourselves with Glen Coco Chanel’s No. 4 might attract that same level of engagement for us in future years. You never know.
Finally, and leaving us at the most recent pop culture phenomenon to influence the public discourse, we’re not quite sure how Assouline has yet to publish a Spirit Crack Guide. While the book will not include naked photos of Shoshanna running through Bushwick, we reckon several of Jessa’s most cogent attestations can make it a best seller.
Catch our drift? How would you like to see your favorite movies and TV shows interpreted in tangible fashion objects?