Would you issue an engagement ultimatum?
As it turns out, you can’t merely wave your hand in a languorous way and say, “Be a dear and invest it in low-cost index funds won’t you, Philip? There’s a good chap.” I mean, for one thing, who is Philip, is he the butler? And if so how does he have access to the accounts?
“Couples who make more than $125,000 a year (combined) cut their divorce risk in half.” So, yeah. You don’t have to be wealthy for San Francisco, just wealthy for Arkansas.
His estimate for how much money he has spent on first dates in the past six months was $1,000. “That’s approximating $15 per, because a first date is one drink: I take her to a bar and then I get a beer, and following suit she usually gets a beer too, even if she leaves half of it, so it’s not too bad.”
You ever think we’re going to be the last generation that does presents? Like, we were the last generation that did trick-or-treating as a door-to-door thing, don’t most kids do organized Candy Events now? And we were the last generation that did birthday parties where everyone brought gifts, now it’s like “bring a used book for charity, please do not bring my child a Spiderman toy.”
Once upon a time a few days ago, some olds — people who were in their 30s — had (and then published) an inter-office online chat with some youngs — people who were in their 20s on the subject of Venmo, the app whose primary purpose is to facilitate bill paying among friends. It has a social component too, though, which is what shocked the olds.
The youngs tried to explain to the olds why Venmo was convenient and fun. The olds pointed out that if you rearrange the letters the app’s name becomes, appropriately, Venom. The young expressed polite skepticism that the app actually intended to poison them. The olds exploded.
heatherlandy 11:52 AM omg, it’s not bad enough that i have to know that the girl i used to sit next to in social studies just took her 4-year-old to the dentist, now i have to know that one of you paid your roommate for the phone bill??? people, you are just GIVING your privacy away! about sensitive things like money! we all need to have a big talk soon…
Which side of Venmo divide do you fall on, dear readers? I’m in No Man’s Land: I have no philosophical problem with the app but I don’t use it, either. Do you find it entertaining or horrifying how blase certain people are about sharing financial info with their friends?
Note: I was tempted to title this “Venmo Venmo Venmo,” in homage to the Simpsons episode “Krusty Gets Cancelled” where there’s all this mysterious advertising for “GABBO GABBO GABBO” but that might be too esoteric. It would be, right? Yeah.
Eight friends and I have started somewhat of a tradition of renting a house in the middle of the woods during the fall. It’s a chance to get out of the city, to watch the leaves change, and spend some time together before the rush of the November and December holidays.
Last month was a great month for news about the marriage prospects of America’s single women, if by great you mean completely disheartening.
We started with the news that America is now a majority-single nation. This should be good news for anyone looking for a partner, right? I mean, as Pew notes, 25 percent of “never-married young adults ages 25 to 34″ are already living with a partner, and another chunk are probably dating a partner (or multiple partners, poly people exist too), but still… the odds should be in the single-but-looking woman’s favor!
Then we learned that men of all ages prefer women in their 20s. Well, maybe like Blanche DuBois, I can look like I’m in my 20s if I stand in the right light. (As The Toast well noted, A Streetcar Named Desire’s “aging widow” Blanche is only 30 years old, the same age as Jess from New Girl. We’re not supposed to think of 30 as “old” anymore, unless we’re a guy on OKCupid.)
And then we got some statistics from Pew that were theoretically about “values, economics, and gender patterns” but which were quickly analyzed to reveal an uncomfortable truth: there just aren’t enough marriageable men. If, by “marriageable,” you mean “employed.” (At first “marriageable” was defined as “never previously married” and “employed,” and then when they didn’t like that number they decided to throw in all the divorcés too and there still weren’t enough employed men for every “never married young woman.”)
Last time I mentioned Madewell here you guys had a lot of feelings about so I am very excited for you to read this Dan Nosowitz piece, How Madewell Bought And Sold My Family’s History.
I stopped dead on Broadway, in the middle of the sidewalk, and stared, not up at the beautiful wrought-iron SoHo buildings, as would befit someone who’d moved to New York in the past month, but at an ordinary sign advertising a small clothing shop. The logo, a casual cursive scrawl with both E’s capitalized, jumped out at me like a beacon from a lighthouse somewhere deep in the back of my brain. That was the logo emblazoned on my baby clothes, the logo my great-grandfather created. It was, I thought, forgotten family history, the factories having shut down shortly after I was born in the ’80s. After a moment I took out my phone and called my mom and asked her what the hell was going on.
Nosowitz’s great-grandfather, a turn-of-the-century Russian immigrant, started the real Madewell, a workwear company (in the um, actual sense) in 1937. Mickey Drexler bought the logo, and the right to put “1937″ on all their shit, in 2006.
This piece is a wonderful reclamation of family history as well as a meditation on the (bastardized) notions of authenticity in consumerism. It totally upended my readerly expectations and I’m obsessed with it.