Delish

a picture is worth zero calories

by be. aaron, copywriter extraordinaire

I am hanging out my Gone Fishin’ sign for a few days. In my absence, this visual feast.

 

Wardrobe Words

by be.aaron, copywriter extraordinaire

Wardrobe Words

I Love

But Rarely,

If Ever,

Get To Use:

ruched

peplum

besom

cloche

tulle

(as in

tutu,

beloved

though absent

from my wardobe for decades,

unlikely ever to return)

passmenterie

peau de soie

cheong sam

ensemble

Wardrobe Words

I Do Not Love:

burka

underpants

(Unsexy! I’d prefer to say

knickers

but I am an American; it would sound affected.

I don’t like the term

panties

either, I think it sounds infantilizing.

lingerie

is OK but not generic enough.

underwear

is generic but unsatisfying.

boyshorts

is A.O.K. but that’s a compound word derived of two words that are really boy words. )

My Favorite Word

That Should Be A Wardrobe Word

But Isn’t:

petard

Wardrobe Words

of

My Youth:

clamdiggers

pedal pushers

Back-to-School Spiel

by be.aaron, copywriter extraordinaire

It’s official: the September edition of Vogue hits newsstands today, it’s time to embrace the back-to-school mode of behavior. I have ordered my supplies from Staples: a dozen extra-long yellow legal pads, a dozen uni-ball Vision fine points in black, a dozen post-its, two reams of recycled inkjet printer paper, my newly discovered and now favorite pencils, pictured above, the Faber-Castell jumbo grip, designed for kids but kind to adults who grip too tightly.

But the supply side of consumerism does not end there. I have to stock up for my dog — fifteen pounds of Taste of the Wild (roasted fowl flavor because she’s a bird dog, a three month supply of biodegradable poop bags- she uses three per day), replenish my wine “cellar,” my spice rack (Dual Imports on 1st Ave. + 5th St.) — all acts of procrastination because what I really need to assess is: what shoes, coat, trousers, bag–all big ticket items–will become my must-haves?

I have a client who has a client who has many clients who have some connection to fashion, so having the four pound tome with almost seven hundred pages of advertorials at my fingertips will come in handy. But without so much as a glance at it, I can predict that gray is the new black– I’ve already used this line in a spot and billed for it– and that I can get away with last season’s ankle boots, not that I want to.

Back-to-school behavior is ingrained in us when we are young and our olfactory senses are most impressionable: remember that new shoe smell? Even the shoebox is redolent. When I was finally allowed to own a pair of Bass Weejuns, de rigeur for seventh grade, and previously verboten because they didn’t have the requisite arch support for my flat feet, I placed the box next to my bed so the scent of glue and leather would permeate my dreams.

I have always loved supplies. In grade school, I coveted the teachers’ boxes of chalk. In college, it was the blue essay books in which I spewed forth (the beginning of spieling?) in order to ace Philosophy 101. As an adult, I’ve always kept a stash of notebooks within grabbing distance, my faves are the ones I find while traveling. I believe that certain notebooks are imbued with magical powers that facilitate the flow of writing, while others have bad juju. For client meetings, I always use Moleskins, which sounds like a prophylactic device. So far, no bad juju.

Since I dutifully recycle, I will put the Sept. Vogue to good use by repeatedly lifting it overhead for weight resistance and then dumping it on my mother who will enjoy it, though she lives in Southern California and her fashion needs are limited by the dictates of one season that lasts all year. The reality of being 83 and inhabiting a shrinking body that is ignored by purveyors of fashion will not diminish the magazine’s entertainment value because for her, and for everyone who exists beyond its force field, fashion is a fantasy.

A few days ago, I turned the a.c. off; last night, I slept without using the overhead fan. The approach of a new season is in the air and with it comes the excitement of possibility, of things beyond imagination.

I watched the curtains blow in and out and I thought of Maurice Sendak, an insomniac, and author of In The Night Kitchen, who wrote about watching his curtains blow. His book weighs in at well under one pound and will enchant forever.

Diplomatic Digest

by be.aaron, copywriter extraordinaire

A cheat-sheet for those of you who, though biologically in the apex of adulthood, lack the experience, composure or facility to communicate in certain situations:

Sorry for your loss (I don’t know what to say)

I wish you well (I hate you)

Interesting (Liar!)

Brilliant (Wish I’d thought of it first)

Where did you get that ?  (I want it)

Is your dog friendly ?  (Am I about to be bitten?)

You changed your hair! (Scary)

Nice! (Not)

Short List of Least Fave Words

by be.aaron, copywriter extraordinaire

pedagogy

sputum

mucilage (sounds sputum-like)

friggin’

(is this last word OK for internet use?)

Bouquet of Beauteous Garden Words

chez carole jardins

by be.aaron, copywriter extraordinaire and conceptual gardener

For those of you who, like me, imagine the joy of working in the garden but prefer to loll about in the a.c. of your hut instead…

dahlia

allee

pergola

gazebo

espalier

bougainvillea

rudbeckia

hollyhocks

wisteria

multi-lingual menu of delicious words

by be.aaron, copywriter extraordinaire

Pamplemousse

Atachatfas

Aioli

Guanciale

Bouillabaisse

Sardinas Plancha

Rhubarb

Sorbeta

Kulfi

Thali

Txakoli

Cava

Rosado

Cafe con leche

Sign o’ the Times: & vs + etc.

by be.aaron

An Ambivalent Spiel

Since I am not a semiotician, typographer or graphic designer, I have to ask: why is the ampersand (a word I like,) now so often, and improperly, replaced by the plus sign? As you know, and does not always equal plus; precise meaning is often defined by context– and in no way can the two always be used interchangeably.

So why am I ambivalent? I have to admit, I’ve been experimenting ( see above revised tagline) and I find that the + sign is far sexier looking than the stodgy &. Is this trend, like Arial becoming the new Helvetica, an Internet-influenced design choice?

I suspect that replacing the & with +, irrespective of meaning, is the equivalent of answering the phone with“Hey” instead of “Hello.” A lot of my friends are parents who have adopted “Hey” so that their children will be more inclined to take their calls.

I don’t want Andy Rooney’s turf if/when he should ever retire/die (will he ever do either?) but I do want to come out here and now and admit that I find “Hey” annoying. It’s unnecessarily abrupt: I don’t have headphones on, I am listening to you. Worse, it’s too obviously co-opted from someone much younger than you. When you say “hey” to your kids, students, employees, they still think you are hopeless. Can we please agree that “Hey” is so over?

For now though, I think it might be okay to use + instead of & – as long as you mean what you say.