Unsolicited Advice #22: Dress your boyfriend like a man

Residing in a wonderland of hipster delights, we briefly entertained the notion that a visit to a swanky men's store would allow us to inject a little freshness into our boyfriends' wardrobes.  However, our trip to Stag on South Congress was an unmitigated disappointment.

Gentle reader, we hail from the dark north woods.  We ply chainsaws up there, and one of us is no stranger to the utility of the quilted padding on the right shoulder of a plaid chamois shirt.  We appreciate the beautiful utility of men's outdoor work wear and we sympathize with the erstwhile businessman who wishes he spent more time engaged in manly outdoor pursuits.  These days we wish we did too.

There is an undeniable sexiness to once-stiff articles worn down by a single body's exertions into a shape at once intimate and protective, an unselfconscious record of experience.  Machine-worn articles just don't fit the same way.  

Rather than spending $150 on a butter-soft dove grey chamois shirt for your office-bound boyfriend at Stag, head to Cabella's and buy him a solid-color Woolrich chamois shirt.  Make him wear it on a bunch of hikes.  See if you can get him to split some wood.

We promise good results.

Unprovoked attack #3: Your wedding, your problem

If you have decided to be united with a beloved in holy matrimony, don't expect your friends to give pints of blood in service of "your special day".  It is in poor taste to have maids at your wedding who are responsible for managing your hysteria.  When the mascara and the nylons begin to run, don't run your ladies, run to your wo/man.

If you don't trust him/her enough to pick up the pieces of your broken plate, then you shouldn't be even asking those ladies to plunk down serious change on the unflattering taffetas your mother-in-law to-be selected via a series of polemical emails to the full bridal party.

Unsolicited Advice #21: How to develop and deliver an apology

When you have done something deeply wrong, for example picked a fight with your boyfriend at four AM, reparations are in order.  It is your responsibility to demonstrate that you have a scheme to avoid future peregrination down the path that led to your reprehensible behavior.

Step-by-step instructions:

1. Stop it!
2. Say you're sorry
3. Set aside some time for self-reflection, either in solitude or in the company of a helpful friend (not the aggrieved party)
• Identify the pattern of thought or deed that induced you, an otherwise kind and caring person, to comport yourself like a selfish fool
• Describe that pattern in precise, nonjudgmental human language (i.e. "lack of compassion" not "being dumb as a stump")
• Draw up a self-improvement plan that directly addresses the pattern in question*
4. Express your contrition to the injured party again.  Take responsibility by laying out the etiological relationship between your unfortunate pattern and the crummy thing you did.
• Consider sharing your self improvement plan with the target of your onslaught**

*The Dewey Decimal number for Self Help is 150.  The more enterprising, or less literate, might also look to hermit in a cave.

**User discretion is advised here. It is often unnecessarily self-indulgent to share your plan.

Unsolicited Advice #19: How to Carry Your Belongings

We support the trend away from shoulder-slung bags on cyclists and pedestrians. Backpacks and fannypacks are much more tasteful, if only because they balance the load on your body. Taking care of yourself is always sexy.

Threat #2

One of the most tasteless misinterpretations of tact is the currently popular practice of listing prices as whole and mixed numbers without dollar signs. By taking away the common signifiers of price ($ and the format X.XX), hipster cafes can delude themselves into the illusion that they are above the commonness of money.

If you want to subvert the grotesque way our economic system works and are tempted to list your prices in this tasteless manner, the editors of this blog can offer more effective methods of challenge.

Unsolicited Advice #19: Tasteful hospitality

It is always and forever tasteful to offer refreshments to guests upon arrival. Whether you are hosting in your cubicle, your dorm room, or somewhere where you control the kitchen, make sure your guests feel welcome by offering them a little something. Tiny cookies and tea are not your only options. Chips and beer may be more welcome. I know a flawlessly elegant 91 year old woman who informs her guests of the state of her marijuana stash immediately upon their arrival at her palatial 1950's ranch house. Try to tailor your friends to your cupboards or your offerings to your friends. Either way works.

Unsolicited Advice #18: French Rap

Why not.

Character Assassination #1: Shoes, rouge, and bikes

In the interest of developing a less judgmental tone here on the blog, we have decided to begin the painful process of disclosing our own tastelessness through attacks on our own aesthetic choices.

We are sometimes pretty tasteless here at Practical Aesthetics. We wear too much makeup in the daytime. We use blogger. We use drop bars, gears, and multiple sprockets. We think Denver is cooler than Portland and that Centralia is coolest of all. We go to psychobilly shows in sketchy warehouses and free klezmer shows at the community center. We ride the bus a lot. We carry our things around in canvas bags. We dress inappropriately for the weather. Most days at least one article we’re wearing needs mending. We get our knees muddy, tear the inseam of our right pant legs, get grease on our cuffs, and generally sully our appearances, all without taking the time to change or wash. We bike and text and talk on cell phones on the bus. We are tactless in our questions, in our answers, and in our correspondence. We use facebook. We are unabashedly political about almost everything. We dance like hippies in the 1990’s. We wear too much cologne. We talk too loudly on the street and in restaurants. We sometimes don’t bathe often enough. We wear cowboy boots with men’s 1980’s shorts and those god-awful athletic socks from the 1970’s with dresses. We both own Patty Loveless’ bluegrass album and play it regularly. Sometimes we bring books on dates, just in case. We still like Calvin Johnson’s “Loose Banana.” We wait tables dressed like prom queens, drag queens, and 1950’s housewives on dolls. We show up at our office jobs in ridiculously frilly little dresses, children’s clothes, socks with holes, and last night's makeup still smeared on our faces. We bike in high heels.

The most tasteless thing we do, however, is refer to each other as “my best friend.” We’re 27, folks. And we still have best friends. Nothing could be more pre-pubescent. Except if we wore side ponytails. Which we do.

Unsolicited Advice #17: Monday Mornings When the Weekend's Toll is Large

It is better to go to work - even if you are late, wan, and poorly dressed - than to not go at all.

So what if the only outfit you can compose makes you look like a frumpy 12 year old boy who got home after dark? Who cares but you if you’re a-game is jammed behind the toaster at home?

Go anyway. Just hide in your office and soothe yourself with coffee and cigarette breaks.

Your at-work reputation is not so spotless that another speck will really impact the overall level of tarnish. We promise.

Unsolicited Advice #16: Getting People to Participate

When soliciting participation in an unsavory, challenging, or otherwise daunting activity, it is uniformly tasteful to motivate your interlocutor with a brief, recriminatory "Cowboyup."

Unsolicited Advice #15: Deal with illness tastefully

When one finds herself laid up, whether with a head-banging injury or a nasty cold, it is tasteful to hide.  Don't try to go out with your friends and act as if the affliction is minor.  They can always tell that it is not and they will fret about you, removing the net benefit from your presence.

Instead, stay home with your dog and read a trashy 1920's society novel or some trashy 1990's non-fiction.  Sleep.  

Skip the Sudafed.  It will only induce you to write ill-advised emails and blog posts, and it might convince you that you are well enough to leave your house.  Which you should not do.

Illness is like pregnancy before 1965 - an affliction whose presence in society is unwelcome. This may explain your housemates' strange, unflattering clothing selections while ill.

Unsolicited Advice #14: Be More Like the Sundance Kid

It is completely tasteful to crouch and mime fancy gunslinging while crossing streets or coming around corners.  Ignore the stares.  They're all just jealous.  

Unsolicited Advice #13: Western Wear

The fortunate but indigent recipient of an invitation to a dinner in a nice restaurant may ask herself, “What the devil do I wear?”

We here at Practical Aesthetics are uniquely positioned to answer this question. We are intermittently indigent and consistently only willing to shop at thrift stores on half off day. But even given our limited access to the newest fashions in Portland’s Pearl District boutiques and Boulder’s Pearl Street salons, we manage to be fabulously dressed for all our fancy dinner dates.

The secret is to be young, to pay attention to color and fabric, and to not care what’s cool. Until recently we had no idea how important the first condition was. But as we approach our late twenties (we’re rat Aquarius and rat Pisces here), we are beginning to notice the toll of late nights in confusing loud bars, late nights in paper writing agony, late nights in proof writing agony, and early mornings with the dog.

But while we’re all still young…

Do: Have the courage to drag your 80's prom dress out of the closet and sport it with an appropriate fake fur shawl.  It's just hotter that way.
Don’t: Wear anything new, except shoes, gloves, and outer wear.
Do: Wear gaudy, gaudy costume jewelry made before 1955.
Don’t: Wear any jewelry made after 1955 unless your grandmother or some other benefactor gave it to you.
Do: Wear a scarf that matches whatever you’ve got on your legs.
Don’t: Match your handbag with your shoes unless you’re trying to look crazy.
Do: Wear a dress instead of a skirt and a blouse.  Pants are right out unless you have an unusually persuasive pair of culottes.   
Don’t: Wear a dress, hose, and shoes all of the same color. 
Do: Wear clean clothes, fresh hosiery, and a properly sized slip.
Don’t: Wear anything with holes in it unless the holes are conveniently located on the back of the garment and you are prepared to engage in acrobatic feats in order to remain facing your date at all times.  We only recommend going to these lengths for truly amazing articles.
Do: Wear cowboy boots, even if they're scuffed. They're likely to be your best shoes.

Unsolicited Advice #12: St. Valentine's Day

This unfortunate holiday is peppered with land mines and rat traps for the hopeful young romantic with any self-respect.  Chocolates in heart shaped boxes are acceptable gifts for your daughter or grandmother, but are not okay for someone you want to sleep with anytime soon.  Even in this grim age which has grown deaf to the language of flowers, a dozen roses still transmits a clear signal concerning a donor's sentiments.  However, snooty young ladies everywhere will not fail to discern an unflattering lack of reflection in the choice of blossom.

The sensitive lover will turn to handmade gifts and cards and creatively selected bouquets (perhaps including barren branches).  Tasteful gifts can also originate in the examination of the donor's own many loves (love for books, love for Scandinavian death metal, and so forth).  

And on a petty personal note, one of the authors' regrettable past boyfriends informed her upon the receipt of a complete set of Proust's In Search of Lost Time, bound in beautiful vintage hardcover, that the gift was inappropriate because it reflected her passion, not his.  He was wrong.

This post co-authored by gander and Seaspawn and Seawrack.

Unsolicited Advice #10: A reminder.

As previously discussed on these pages, it is still totally tasteful to blame "the recession economy" where you might otherwise have blamed the vengeful fates.

Example: "I keep getting flats on my bike. It must be the recession economy."

Unsolicited Advice #9: Wear the same clothes again.

Take a page from the less-is-more playbook and choose a few fabulous outfits to wear again and again.  It will make your life simpler when you're busy.  It will make you look great more often (unless you have a unfailing preternatural knack for outfit composition).  It will make you more like my Norwegian grandmother.  It will make you memorable.  And it will give you permission to wear that amazing red velvet dress more often.

Unsolicited Advice #8: How to Look Like a Small Child Playing Dress-Up

In college, I had a professor who dressed in drag every day.  One day, she would show up as a maid, the next day in a chinsy red Flamenco costume that clashed with her red hair.  In her honor, then, try to amuse yourself when you're getting dressed.

(1) There's absolutely nothing wrong with pairing a gold necklace with silver earrings.

(2) Wear all the jewelry you own at once.

(3) Strap up slightly oversized dresses with multiple belts or swaths of fabric wrapped around your torso.

(4) Excessive elegance of dress should be offset by humble footwear.

Unsolicited Advice #7:Be More Like John Wayne

Hip-slung belts, especially when colorful or gaudy are totally tasteful.  Strap one on.

Dresses

As someone who wears dresses and skirts most days, this arbiter of taste would like to weigh in on the comments characterizable by the phrase "Oh, I love to see a girl in a dress."

It's tasteless. I'd love to see you in a dress, Buddy.

I'm looking fine today because I want to, not because I want you to be pleased by my conformist femininity.

Unsolicited Advice #6: Internet Stalking

While tempting, ultimately unavoidable, and rewarding, stalking new lovers on the internet is totally tasteless.

Never admit to having done it.  This exercise in post-hoc self control is especially important since you inevitably find that their prose styling is profoundly disappointing.  It's better to pretend not to know.