#we went to a restaurant opening in which i did the brand illustration for the restaurant

[shazleen]

I’m so happy i love my nb girlfriend so much

Mini blog post (lol) but I am just so happy!! I remember being a teenager and looking at like times where saphic couples got together or art of girls + femmes + butches together and loving it and I never thought I would get to experience a relationship like that

And now I do and also my partner is so cool and smart and talented and beautiful 🥺💖 anyway just another time teenaged me would be so happy to know where there future leads ig!

I’m not super happy with myself recently but I am happy with where my life is and being able to be surrounded by people I love and in a good place career wise and financially 😭 i managed to live alone and not die for over a year I am doing as best as I can!!!

[yutahoes]

Otou-Chan

Yuta Nakamoto x Reader (Y/N) Smut

(Chapter Fifteen)

Summary: 𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐡𝐰𝐚 𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐘𝐮𝐭𝐚’𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬.

Warning:  Fluff, Mentions of Sex, Masturbation, Vibrator

Word Count: 1.6k

Masterlist

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ ❤️❤️

15. Red

It was another busy morning in the office. (Y/N) needed to finish the illustration for her own work as well as the final editing for Jungwoo’s panels so she did stay the night in the office. With a cup of coffee next to her computer set, she decided to finish the colors for Jungwoo’s illustration. “You’re early,” Jungwoo announced when he sat next to her, checking the final touches of the illustration. “No morning sex today?” And she giggled at that.

The guy pulled out a box from his backpack. “Can you try this out?” He asked that surprised her. What is this? But her eyes widened in surprise when she saw what is inside. A bullet vibrator. She was about to react when he explained, “You’re the only one I know who has a vagina. Please, I needed a review for this.” She rolled her eyes at that. “You can decline if you want.”

Well, come to think of it Jungwoo isn’t harming her in any way. It’s just a small vibrator, she had used bigger ones of this. Besides, she’s curious about his product. Why did Jungwoo have this? Doesn’t it cost a lot of money? When she went out of the bathroom, the three were huddling around Jaehyun. What’s happening?

Ten handed a box to her. “It must be nice to have a CEO boyfriend.” He said in a cheery voice. Y/N only realized what he meant when she opened the box that has a brand new drawing tablet inside. From Nakamoto Corporation. But he’s not her boyfriend. She glanced around seeing people changing their computer set. Is this Yuta’s work once again?

“Y/N!” Jaehyun called then handed her a box smaller than the one she’s holding. “Don’t be bothered. He did this as a form of business.” He explained. “That.” He gestured at the smaller box. “Is a congratulatory gift from me.” A gift from Jaehyun? “That guy is madly crazy about you.”

A piece of paper was inside the box of a brand new cellphone. A letter, from Yuta, and it started with the words ‘My daughter’ that made her laugh. ‘Stay away from Jaehyun, please. He bought this, not me so don’t be mad. I put my number in so message me if you receive this. Otou-chan.’ Opening the phone, a message can be seen ‘Smile, my daughter.’ And to her humor, his number is saved as Otou-chan instead of Yuta. He really thought this through.

--

Yuta was just done with a meeting involving clients from Hongkong when he checked his phone. A message can be seen asking him if he wanted to go out for lunch. Why did Jaehyun send him this message? They just met earlier. Did he miss him already? And why isn’t Y/N messaging him? Since his lunch is free, he decided to go to the restaurant that Jaehyun messaged him.

The whole team of illustrators is there and he lightly glanced at the girl who was looking at the menu. “The team wanted to thank you for the gadgets.” Jaehyun started offering him a place to seat, far from her. “This is Johnny Seo. He is the editor in chief of the publishing.” He read his name before. The email (Y/N) sent back then. So this guy is the one who rejected (Y/N)’s work. “This is Ten. He’s the assistant editor.” The younger introduced him and he remembered him as the guy who said that she’s busy from way before.

“Jungwoo and (Y/N).” he continued for Jaehyun that made the girl look at him. “I’m Yuta Nakamoto.”

“We know.” Ten claimed then stared at the only girl who was next to him. “(Y/N)’s boyfriend.”

But the girl just rolled her eyes at that, making Yuta hide a smirk by drinking water. She really had this habit of rolling her eyes. And why does that simple action rile him up? “I’m her model.” He stated that made her surprised. Jungwoo giggled which made her glare.

The waiter came and asked for their orders. Johnny even ordered for (Y/N),  scolding her that she hasn’t eaten all day. Yuta even asked the waiter if they’re selling steamed buns, even asking if they can make one for her which she totally opposed. Ten only smiled at that. He’s not a boyfriend yet he’s acting like one and Jungwoo might have caught it.

A buzz can be felt inside (Y/N)’s core. She had totally forgotten about the vibrator that Jungwoo asked her to put on. Why is he turning it on right now? The vibrations grew unbearable that she lightly kicked him from across the table. But he just smiled while eating his food, heightening the vibrations. (Y/N) cursed and Johnny gave her a side glare. “Are you alright, (Y/N)?” Jaehyun asked and she realized that everyone’s eyes were on her. She bit her lip then nodded.

Yuta was glaring at her and she became self-conscious. Does he know? The vibrations were too much that she can almost taste iron on her lips to prevent herself from moaning. She stood up, almost immediately, that all eyes were on her. “Excuse me.” And she walked fast to the ladies' bathroom. Once inside the stall at the end, she released her moans. She was sure that there was no one inside when she went inside.

She wanted to remove the vibrating toy inside her but she’s so near that she even pushed it closer to her g-spot using her finger. Fuck, the vibrator is so good. Where did Jungwoo get this? She started arching her hips at the pleasure, mewls escaping her mouth. Someone entered the bathroom and she covered her mouth to avoid making too much noise. If possible, the vibrations got higher that her body was already squirming in orgasm.

The girl smiled while watching the small device kept on vibrating. How can something this small give her that intense orgasm? And at a public place? But the smile was changed to surprise when she opened the door to the cubicle and Yuta was leaning by the sink, glaring at her. He did know. The guy held out his hand and she noticed the pink remote on his other hand. “Give me that motherfucker.” He ordered in a dominating voice that made her gulp. She gave the vibrating toy to him, shakingly. “I thought you’re sick so I checked on you and Jungwoo handed me this.” He showed the remote and quickly turned off the vibrator before putting it in his pocket. “The things I really want to do to you.” He muttered more to himself while shaking his head, exiting the comfort room. The two ladies who went inside just eyed Yuta then the girl who was blushing hard.

Jungwoo was laughing when she returned to the table that made her glare. A plate of fish-shaped steam buns was in front of her and she lightly glanced at Yuta who was talking to Jaehyun. She caught sight of Johnny smiling at her as if she caught her doing something illegal. The team thanked Yuta since he paid for the food. “Are you staying over tonight?” he asked the girl and she shook her head, claiming that she had to go home and get some things. “Message me.”

“You can call me.”

“I don’t know your number.” He said with a grin. “So I’ll wait for you.”

Johnny who was standing behind the guy just smiled at (Y/N). When the CEO left, Ten was easing the girl about how lovey-dovey they are. “Did something happen inside the restroom?” Jungwoo asked and she lightly punched his arm.

--

Even if she wanted to go to Yuta’s place that night, the landlady called the office and informed her that her father has been drinking all the time once again. How can she run away from him if she’s the only family left? It was 6 PM but she’s still at work, Jungwoo and Ten both went home and there’s Johnny left. “Do you want me to drive you home?” he asked and she shook her head, finishing her illustrations. To her surprise, Johnny sat next to her. “About you and Yuta…” he started.

(Y/N) stared at him. Johnny is like the big brother she wished she had so this conversation isn’t a surprise to her. “Bungeoppang?” he asked that made her stop what she was doing. “I found out about it one year after we became friends.”

“For starters, Yuta just know that I like bungeoppang. He hasn’t heard the full story yet.” Johnny smiled, that teasing smile. “He’s nice and he takes care of me. But Johnny, he’s not someone that I can reach.”

“Honestly, you already did.” He explained. “You just refused to hold on to him.” Well, that’s one way to put it. “Seriously (Y/N), he’s already putting on effort for you. You think he’s just helping the publishing by donating these?” he asked referring to the computer sets. “He’s actually helping you achieve your dreams, (Y/N). And that, my friend, is one guy that you should hold on to.”

The girl sighed, leaning her back against the chair. “Will it be alright? Me and Yuta?” she asked then bit her lip. “I don’t have anything to give him.” He ruffled her hair as he stood up, smiling at the girl. She’s still the same girl as before. “I’m scared that he’ll end up leaving me once again.”

“(Y/N)…” Johnny called, looming above her. “There’s something that you can give Yuta.” A questioning gaze was all she could do and he smiled. “Your trust. Open up to him. Your pain, your happiness. I’m sure he’ll do the right thing for you.” A smile escaped her lips. Maybe she’ll do that.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ ❤️❤️

Chapter 14 / Chapter 16

[justatiredpotato]

Set Me Free | Chapter 5

Chapter List

Pairing: hybrid!Yoongi x human!reader

Genre: Angst, fluff, coffee shop AU, hybrid AU

Word Count: Chapter: 6,000~  Total: 40,000~

Updates daily at 10pm MST

Warnings: anxiety, panic attacks, violence (kinda?), mentions of abuse

Summary: Yoongi, a cat hybrid, has been hurt time and time again by a world that would have him believe he’s worthless. One day he finds himself in your protective care, and gets a new family to boot. But is it really that easy to escape the past and embrace a new beginning?

Author’s Note: In this fic the reader’s name is Yeoji

The next weekend you took Yoongi out to get a tag. Jungkook and Jimin took care of the cafe for the day, so you had the afternoon to take care of your errands. After extensive googling you found a shop on the other side of town that had a variety of choices, so that was your first stop. 

The store had lots of hybrid supplies, and after browsing around for a bit you found the tags. Most were obviously made for collars, but a small display on the bottom shelf held the new earring-style. Yoongi looked through them for several minutes before holding up one for you to consider. It was a simple metal hoop with a pendant spike that held the tag. 

The tag itself was just a small microchip that held all the ID information. You’d received Yoongi’s in the mail that morning. For several years the tags were actually used like pet microchips, placed under the skin. Thankfully that was deemed inhumane a decade ago, so tags were made wearable instead. The earring design made the little device far less noticeable, though some people still force hybrids to wear a collar. You thought it must be rather degrading, but Jimin liked to wear his on a choker.

Yoongi held the earring he’d selected up in the mirror and nodded approvingly. “This’ll work.”

“I like it!” you agreed. “It’s pretty.”

His face visibly reddened and you regretted your choice of words. You were about to correct yourself when you caught a trace of a smile as he turned toward the register. You followed him and purchased the earring. In the car, he used the mirror on the visor to replace his old earring with the new one. He tilted his head to assess the piece, then turned to show you.

“Honestly, I wouldn’t realize it’s a tag if I didn’t already know,” you said.

He shrugged, turning back to the mirror and nodding. “Yeah, it’s not bad.”

On your way home you stopped at the store to buy soju and restock on a few snacks that Yoongi had gone through rather quickly. Saturday was your usual movie night with your family. You’d skipped it the previous week, not sure if Yoongi was ready for a big social gathering yet. But the boys really wanted to have a welcome party for him. Jungkook in particular seemed excited, saying he had a surprise. Him and Yoongi bonded quickly over the previous two weeks, Jungkook even came over a few times after his classes so they could play music together.

That night was going to be the first time all of your boys were together since Yoongi came to stay with you. Despite your nerves, you knew they would make him feel at home. Yoongi was quiet on the drive home, but you could tell he was nervous. His leg bounced rapidly, hands clasped in his lap.

“You’ll like them,” you said abruptly. You reached over and took his hand. “And they’ll like you. I promised I wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you, remember? This is my family, and that means they’re your family now too.” He nodded, meeting your eyes for a moment before turning to look out the window.

By the time you got back to your place you had about an hour before the boys arrived. Jimin and Jungkook were coming straight back after they closed the cafe. You tidied up and pulled out the take-out menus, then grabbed a couple of extra blankets for the couch and loveseat; Jimin and Jungkook liked to be warm. Yoongi puttered around after you, helping clean up and remaining more or less glued to your side until seven’o’clock rolled around.

A knock came at the door between the apartment and the cafe, and you hollered for them to come in. Two bunny ears peaked inside. The owner of said ears quickly followed as the smaller boy behind him pushed him through the door. Jungkook waved at Yoongi, who stood slightly behind you. Jimin smiled brightly. You flashed him a look; a reminder to keep it chill. He nodded understandingly and approached to pull you into a hug.

“How was your day, noona?” he asked, nuzzling into your jaw. 

He pulled away and you ruffled his hair. “Good! How was the cafe today?” You glanced behind him to Jungkook. “I hope it wasn’t too crazy.”

Jungkook shook his head. “Nah. It was busy, but nothing we couldn’t handle,” he said, placing an arm around Jimin’s shoulders. “Did you have a good time shopping, hyung?”

Yoongi glanced up at him and subconsciously fidgeted with the new earring. “Yeah, we found a tag that looks alright. So that’s good,” he finished awkwardly. He seemed so nervous, even with the addition of just one new person. You hoped it wasn’t too soon to be bringing everyone around. You didn’t have much time to worry as the doorbell rang. Yoongi trailed behind you as you went to answer it.

The rest of the guys stood on the step, holding what you assumed to be food.

“Jin-hyung and I grabbed takeout on the way,” Hoseok said, gesturing with two large bags with the logo of your favorite Thai restaurant on them. Jin held up a box containing even more takeout containers. 

“You’re the best, Hobi! I’m starving.” You took one of the bags from him and stepped aside to let him in.

“He’s the best? What about me?” Jin asked, indignant.

“You’re alright,” you said. He pouted and you wrapped an arm around him, grinning.

Namjoon and Tae followed you inside. Tae went to the table to set down a box before hurrying back to you. He wrapped you in a tight hug, even his tail curling around you to keep you close.

“I missed you, noona!” he said, nose buried in your hair.

You laughed and hugged him back. “I missed you too, Taetae.” You hadn’t seen him since the night you found Yoongi. The tiger hybrid made a rumbling cough-like noise in his chest, which you knew meant he was happy. 

After a moment, you turned to see Yoongi hovering awkwardly next to the kitchen island watching the whole exchange with his hands folded in front of him. Upon seeing everyone looking back at him, he quickly looked down to the floor and bowed politely.

“Welcome,” he said, directing his words toward the three human men standing around the kitchen. “Can I get you anything?” His voice was soft and polite, words oddly hollow. You hurried over to him, startled by the sudden shift in behavior. You wrapped an arm around his slight waist and waited for him to meet your eyes. He looked at you for a moment before seeming to come back to himself. He shuffled his feet, nervously and looked up at the guys again. 

“Thanks, Yoongi, but don’t worry about us. We can grab stuff if we need it,” Jin assured him, heading to the fridge to grab a beer to illustrate his point.

“Yeah, hyung. We basically live here,” Joon added, ruffling your hair before walking over and plopping down on the couch.

Hoseok threw Yoongi a sunshine-smile. “So, Yeoji-noona tells me you’re a musician? She said you’re incredibly talented.” You shifted awkwardly, but didn’t remove your arm from around Yoongi just yet.

“Yeah!” Jungkook said. The bunny bounded over, childlike excitement in his eyes as he scanned the room. His eyes landed on the kitchen table and he took Yoongi’s hand to pull him that way. “I’ve got something to show you, hyung!”

Yoongi followed, ears twitching curiously as he eyed the box on the table. Jimin came to join them, sitting cross-legged on a dining chair. Everyone else observed quietly, curious, but not wanting to crowd Yoongi.

“I’ve been wanting to give you this, and hyung said it’d be a nice welcome present!” Jungkook said, gesturing for the older boy to open the package.

“Present? This is for me?” Yoongi asked. He glanced at you, as if looking for permission. You smiled and gave the tiniest nod of reassurance. Yoongi pulled open the box and slid out a canvas bag. He glanced up at Jungkook one more time before unzipping it. Inside was an electric keyboard. You saw Yoongi’s jaw clench and he continued to stare blankly at the instrument. Jungkook shifted from foot to foot.

“I know it’s not brand new or anything, but Joonie-hyung got me a new one for my last birthday and he said I could sell the other one if I wanted. I thought maybe you’d like to use it. At least until you get a new one. If you don’t want it I can take it back…” the boy rambled nervously. 

Yoongi looked up sharply at those last words. “I- I can keep this?” he asked. 

Jungkook’s eyebrows rose. “Yeah. It’s a gift. You’re really talented, hyung. It’d be a shame if you were stuck without a keyboard.”

Yoongi looked from Jungkook, to the keyboard, then back again. Then he surprised you all by pulling the younger boy into a hug. Jungkook stiffened at first, clearly surprised. But then he returned the hug, a bunny smile creeping onto his face. 

“Thank you, Kookie. Seriously,” Yoongi said quietly. “You really didn’t have to do this.”

Namjoon appeared beside you, placing a hand on your shoulder. You blinked rapidly when you met his eyes; when had they started watering? Namjoon simply smiled before returning his attention to the men at the table. Jungkook spent a few minutes showing Yoongi some of the keyboard’s features while the rest of you set up the food on the coffee table in the living room. As much as you hated to interrupt, you had to call them away before the food got cold. Yoongi scanned the food on the table.

“I’ve never tried any of this stuff before,” he said.

“You’ve never had Thai food?” Taehyung asked, horrified. Yoongi shook his head. 

You filled a plate with things you thought he’d like and passed it to him. His eyes widened as he took in the precarious tower of food. You might’ve gotten a little too enthusiastic with your servings.

“Jeez, noona. Leave some for the rest of us!” Namjoon teased. The other boys snorted, but you ignored them.

“Try these. If there’s anything you don’t like you can give it to me,” you said. Yoongi cleared his plate in record time, even getting seconds upon your encouragement. His lack of pickiness when it came to food continued to impress you. After you cleared the plates away you settled into your favorite spot on the couch with Yoongi on one side with his arm around your shoulder, and Jungkook on the other. Jungkook laid his head on your lap so you could pet his ears. You smiled as Yoongi took your free hand and laced your fingers together, resting his cheek on your head.

A contented sigh escaped you and you looked over your mismatched little family, catching Namjoon and Jimin exchanging a look. Jimin turned to you and you raised an eyebrow at him questioningly, but he just smirked. You frowned, looking to Namjoon instead. He chuckled and turned his attention back to the movie. Jungkook had selected some b-movie he read about online. It featured mostly bad special effects, bad acting, and cheap jumpscares, but he seemed to be enjoying himself. 

You could feel Yoongi already dozing, his breathing deep and even against your hair. How he could sleep through the loud musical stings that seemed to happen every twenty seconds you couldn’t fathom. Despite the poor production quality, you got pretty into the movie. Your attention was split between trying to keep up with the convoluted plot, petting Jungkook, and drawing soft patterns on the back of Yoongi’s hand.

When the film ended you shifted, giving Yoongi’s hand a gentle squeeze to wake him up. He blinked at you, looking around as you sat up and started clearing glasses and drink cans away. He stretched before moving to help you.

“Why don’t you sit and chat with the guys for a bit?” you suggested.

“I’ll help you, noona,” Jungkook said. He, Jin, and Namjoon helped you clean up while the other boys visited.

━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━

Yoongi fidgeted nervously in his seat, uneasy without you next to him. Jimin sensed the discomfort and moved to sit next to him. Tae turned to face the other boys from his spot on the floor.

“So, how’s it been? Staying with Yeoji-noona, I mean,” Tae asked.

“Good. She’s really good to me. I owe her a lot,” Yoongi said.

“From what I hear she doesn’t feel you owe her anything. I think the last few weeks she’s been the happiest I’ve seen her in a long time,” Hoseok said. Yoongi blushed, but failed to hide his smile at the statement.

“It’s definitely the happiest I’ve ever been,” Yoongi said quietly.

“Well we’ve been dying to meet you,” Taehyung interjected. “Jimin won’t shut up about you.”

Jimin’s tail flicked. “It’s just been so long since I’ve had another kitty around.” Yoongi finched, tail wrapping protectively around his waist. Jimin continued, not noticing. “I mean, Tae is a cat. But you can’t exactly call a tiger a kitty. I miss purrs and snuggles from my other kitty friends. Tae doesn’t really purr. He makes this funny coughing sound instead.”

“It’s called ‘chuffing’ thank you very much,” Tae protested. Jimin’s tinkling laugh filled the room as the two bickered good-naturedly, but Yoongi’s mind was far away. A voice echoed through his mind, but not from anyone in the room. The man’s voice came from memories he’d pushed away and tried to forget. He curled in on himself, ears flattening as he tried to push the images of his past away.

The tone of the guys’ conversation shifted and he thought someone might be calling to him but their words sounded like he was hearing them through glass.

“Hey, hyung.” A hand came to rest on his shoulder and his body reacted before his mind could. He lashed out with a fist, and flinched away from the person’s touch, toppling off the couch in the process. A yelp of pain and surprise cleared a bit of the fog from his mind and he glanced at the faces surrounding him, pupils blown wide as adrenaline coursed through him. Rather than being comforted by the reality in that moment, he only felt dread in the pit of his stomach.

━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━

You were laughing with Jungkook and Jin when you heard Namjoon’s shout of surprise. You whirled to see the boys suddenly quiet, startled expressions on their faces. You hurried into the living room just in time to see Yoongi getting off the ground and darting away into your bedroom.

“What happened?” you asked, turning to Namjoon for an answer. He held a hand to his cheek, the skin already bruising beneath it.

“I’m not sure. I came to check on them and Yoongi-hyung seemed… off. I must’ve scared him because he freaked out and hit me,” he said.

“We were just talking and then he got really quiet all of the sudden. Then when Joon-hyung touched him he just-” Taehyung trailed off with a shrug.

“Is he okay?” Jimin asked. He looked up at you with wide, concerned eyes.

“I’m sure he’s okay, Chim. I’m gonna go take care of him,” you ruffled the boy's hair. “Jin, can you get Joon some ice?”

Jin nodded and led the younger man back to the kitchen while you hurried after Yoongi. You pushed open the door gently. He hadn’t even bothered to turn the lights on.

“Yoongi?” you called softly. You scanned the room, but didn’t see him. “Sweetheart where are you? What happened?”

Your eyes fell on the door of your closet, which was slightly ajar. A sliver of sock-clad toe poked out. You approached quietly, not exactly sure what was going on, and opened the door. Yoongi sat on the floor, half buried in a pile of sweaters you hadn’t bothered to hang up after wearing them once.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. You crouched in front of him, leaning close to hear better. He flinched away as you drew closer and your heart broke.

“What?” you asked.

“Please…” he whimpered.

“Sweetheart, I don’t understand. What happened? Please what?”

“I messed up. I was bad. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Please don’t make me leave. Please,” he repeated over and over like a mantra. His ears were flat against his head. His whole body trembled.

“Oh, Yoongi,” you cooed, reaching out for him. He shrank away again, but you didn’t give up. “Yoon, it’s me. Please, can you come out?” He finally met your eyes, scanning your face for anger before carefully crawling out of his hiding place. When he finally accepted your outstretched hand you didn’t hesitate to pull him into your arms.

“I’m so sorry, noona. I’m so sorry. I was bad. I know I’m in trouble but please don’t get rid of me.”

“Sweetheart, I would never get rid of you.” You pulled him close, nuzzling into his hair as he tucked his face into your neck. “This is your home. And you aren’t in trouble. No one is mad at you.”

You sat quietly for a moment, just stroking his hair as he took deep shaking breaths, struggling to slow his breathing. When he seemed to have calmed down a bit you spoke again.

“Do you think you can tell me what happened?” you asked gently.

“T-that name. It just made me think of my old master,” he said the last word with venom in his voice. “Kitty, that’s what he called me and- and I just felt like I was there again. Back with him, at the club. And I- I couldn’t- It-” the panic seemed to be returning and you held him tighter, shushing him, trying to shield him from the rush of painful memories before they could overwhelm him again.

“Hey, hey. Slow down. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. You’re here, with me. I’ve got you.”

He nodded against your shoulder, clinging to you as if you were the only thing keeping him from drowning.

“Let’s get you off the floor, yeah?” you said, coaxing him to his feet and guiding him over to the bed. You tucked him in, pulling an extra blanket up from the foot to tuck around his shoulders and placing a soft kiss in his hair. 

“I probably should go check on the boys,” you said, glancing toward the living room. You could hear them murmuring, discussing quietly.

“Wait.” He looked anxious at the prospect of you leaving his side. “Can’t you...” He couldn’t seem to get out what he wanted to ask.

“Okay,” you said. The idea of being away for him at that moment tore at your heart more than you’d admit. You crawled under the covers and snuggled up to him. He tucked his face into your neck; that seemed to be his favorite spot. What you weren’t aware of was that your scent was such a comfort to him, it was the only thing that could push the shadows from his mind in moments like this. You slipped your phone out of your back pocket.

You put your phone on its charger and wrapped your arm around Yoongi again.

“Are they mad?” he asked suddenly.

“What? No, of course not.”

You felt him sigh, breath warm against your collarbone. “What are you going to do?”

“What do you mean?”

He pulled away from you to look you in the eye. “I know I’m in trouble. You have to punish me. I hurt your brother. And I could hear Jimin. I made him cry. So what are you going to do?” He averted his eyes, clearly expecting you to hurt him somehow.

You placed a gentle hand on his cheek to make him look at you. “Yoongi, you are not in trouble. Namjoon is not mad at you. He understands, in fact he was actually worried about you. And Jimin was only crying because he hurt you. He didn’t mean to say something that would upset you. He understands what it’s like to have things you’d rather forget,” you said sadly.

“Is-Is he still here?” Yoongi asked.

“I think so.”

“Could I-? I’d like to apologize,” he said. “To him and Namjoon.”

Your eyebrows shot up as you studied him. “Are you sure? You could talk to him after your shift tomorrow. You don’t have to do this now.”

“I don’t want them to worry.”

You scanned his face, but he seemed certain. You sat up, tucking a blanket tighter around his shoulders before calling, “Jimin, Joonie, can you come here for a second?”

Yoongi fidgeted with his fingers beside you, and you reached over and wrapped his hand in yours. There was quiet shuffling outside your door before a shock of pink hair and white ears appeared through the door.

“Hyung?” Jimin’s voice was even softer than usual, barely audible to your ears. He slipped through the door, Namjoon following cautiously behind him.

Yoongi cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, guys. I’m so sorry I hit you Namjoon. That was bad of me-”

Namjoon stopped him. “You have nothing to apologize for, hyung. It’s not your fault that other people hurt you. I’m sorry I scared you, even accidentally.”

Yoongi nodded his gratitude, thinking for a moment before turning to Jimin.

“And Jimin, I’m sorry I reacted like that. I didn’t mean to upset you...” He stopped short when he realized there were tears streaming down the younger man’s face. “Oh s***. Did I make it worse?” Yoongi said. He turned to you confused and concerned.

“No, hyung. I’m just so sorry. I-” Jimin sniffled and wiped at his face with his sleeves. “Can I hug you?” 

Yoongi looked startled, but he nodded. Jimin practically ran over and sat next to Yoongi, hugging him tightly and burying his face in his chest. After a moment’s hesitation, Yoongi wrapped his arms around him. There was a beat of silence before a soft, melodic purr started to fill the quiet.

“I know what it’s like to have… bad things happen. And I’m so sorry I made you remember.” Jimin’s grip on the back of Yoongi’s sweater tightened. “If you need to talk about it, you can talk to me, hyung. Anytime.”

Yoongi nodded again, a purr started to echo from his chest as well as he tried to keep himself together.

Namjoon and Jimin left a few minutes later, and Yoongi settled back in with you. He fell asleep quickly after all the guys left. You snuck away as quietly as you could to wash your face and change into pajamas, but found yourself rushing to return to his side.

━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━

Over the following months you tried to get Yoongi out of the house more. As the winter warmed into spring he went and performed in the plaza some days. One particularly sunny afternoon you had to go see your supplier since there was an issue with your latest order. 

The two of you strolled casually down the street toward the restaurant supply company, window shopping as you went since your appointment wasn’t for another twenty minutes. Yoongi pointed out a couple of items in shop windows, and you filed away his preferences for later. He finished paying you back for the things you bought him a few weeks before, so you looked for any and every opportunity to spoil him. Not because you thought he needed it, but any time you were responsible for that gummy smile blossoming on his face it warmed your heart like nothing else.

You passed a shop on the corner a block from your destination and paused when you noticed him lingering by the window.

“Yoon? What are you looking at?” You turned and joined him at the window. It turned out to be a salon, not a shop. You looked Yoongi over. His hair had grown since he’d come to stay with you, to the point that he tied it up with one of your hair-ties when he was working on something.

 “Do you want to get your hair cut?” you asked.

“Hm? Oh, yeah. I should, huh? I actually like this.” He pointed at a poster in the window. The man in the picture had kind of a mullet going on. You couldn’t tell what color it was since the picture was black and white, but it was clearly a lighter color.

“This one?” You pointed at the picture, confirming. The cut wasn’t really your style. But if Yoongi liked it, that didn’t matter. He’d be adorable in any style. “Yeah,” you said encouragingly. “I think your hair is long enough.”

“What? No, I meant the color. I’d be cool to have lighter hair.”

“You wanna dye it?” you asked, surprised. You hadn’t expected him to be interested in something like that.

He nodded. “Do you think it’d look weird?” He suddenly seemed unsure, turning slightly away from the window, ears turning down slightly.

“No! I think you’d look cute in any color!” In your haste to reassure him you entirely missed the pretty blush that appeared on his cheeks. “You should try it,” you said.

He looked back up at the picture, contemplating. “Would that be okay?”

“Of course, sweetheart. It’s your hair.” You laughed and ruffled his soft black locks with your fingers. “Do you want to do it today? If they have an appointment you can do it while I go to my meeting.”

His tail swished behind him, ears perked forward. “Really?”

“Of course! Let’s see if they have any openings.”

You entered the salon, the bell chiming cheerfully above you. “Welcome to Worldwide Handsome Salon! How can I make your day more beautiful?” the girl at the reception desk greeted you. You turned to Yoongi, waiting for him to speak.

“I’d like to have my hair cut and colored,” he said quietly.

The girl glanced from him to you. “Of course, we happen to have an opening in 15 minutes if you were looking to have it done today.”

Yoongi nodded.

“Great!” the girl chirped. “I’ll go grab one of our stylists for a consult.” She hurried off to do so. You and Yoongi took a seat in the waiting area.

“That works out perfectly! I’ll come pick you up after my meeting. Is that okay?” You didn’t say what you were actually asking, though you knew he understood what you meant. ‘Will you be okay without me?’

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

“Good.” You took his hand, bouncing it happily on your lap. “I can’t wait to see what you do!”

The stylist emerged from between the rows of chairs and counters, greeting you with a big smile. He wasn’t very tall, but he still managed to be imposing. The lean muscle in his arms stretched the sleeves of his t-shirt, and he carried himself with more confidence and power than you would’ve expected from him. His hair was a shockingly pure platinum, and he pushed it back from his face as he approached to greet you.

“Hey! I’m Jackson.” He reached out to shake your hand, shaking Yoongi’s as well.

“He’s our best hybrid stylist,” the girl chimed in from beside him.

“I thought I was the best period, Irene,” Jackson teased. The receptionist, Irene, giggled and turned away.

“That too.” She bowed to you and Yoongi. “Let me know if you need anything else.” She returned to her place behind the front desk.

“I assume we’re doing something for you today?” He inclined his head toward Yoongi with a small smile. “Alright, what are we thinking?” He directed the question at you. You frowned at him before turning to Yoongi, again waiting for him to speak up.

“I want it cut and colored,” he said. 

Again, Jackson glanced at you expectantly. “Do you know what style you want exactly?” he asked politely.

“Don’t ask me, it’s his hair,” you said, getting a little irritated. Yoongi, sensing this, took your hand and leaned closer to you, tail wrapping soothingly around your leg.

Jackson’s eyebrows rose, apparently surprised. “Sorry. You have to excuse me. Most people who bring their hybrids in don’t give a damn what they want.” He smiled awkwardly. “Alright man, what are we doing today?” He addressed Yoongi this time, giving him a genuine smile and seeming almost relieved.

“I was thinki-”

“Wait!” You interrupted him, pulling your hand free so you could cover your ears. Both men looked at you, startled. “I want it to be a surprise.”

Yoongi grinned and nodded, happily agreeing to your plan.

“Text me when you’re finished, and I’ll come pick you up. You have your phone and your card?” Yoongi nodded. You got him a debit card once he started earning wages at the shop so he wouldn’t have to carry everything in cash. The account was technically under your name, since hybrids couldn’t have their own, but shopping was a lot easier for him with a debit card.

“Alright, call me if you need me.” You leaned up and pecked him on the cheek. “Have fun!” you called as you left the salon.

Jackon observed how Yoongi watched you leave, brows raised.

“What?” Yoongi asked when he caught the other man’s expression.

“Nothing,” Jackson said casually. He smiled and glanced after you. “It’s just nice to see. You guys seem happy together.”

Yoongi colored, but couldn’t hide the grin that appeared on his face.

━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━

After your meeting, you went to the coffee shop next to the Worldwide Handsome Salon. You tried to busy yourself reading over the documents your supplier had given you, but it was hard to focus when you could hardly wait to see what Yoongi had done. You hopped out of your chair a little too energetically when he finally texted, drawing an irritated look from fellow patrons you’d startled. You bowed apologetically, dropped your dirty dishes in the bus bin, and hurried next door.

Irene greeted you when you entered. “Hi! They’re just finishing up. I’ll let them know you’re here.” She got up and disappeared into the maze of mirrors and counters. A moment later she returned, Jackson in tow. He flashed you a proud grin.

“You know, I think this might be some of my best work.”

Irene nudged him with her elbow and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, it has nothing to do with him being handsome to start with.”

Jackson waved Yoongi over and he peeked out from behind a mirror. Your eyes widened as you took in his slightly curly honey-blond hair. Yoongi measured your reaction, black ears twitching nervously as he stood before you.

“What?” he asked when you didn’t say anything. “Do you not like it?”

You broke into a smile and finally couldn’t hold back a delighted squeal.

“Oh my god I love it!” You stepped closer to him. “Can I?” You made grabby hands at him and he leaned his head down so you could reach better. Somehow, the light color and soft waves made his hair look even softer. Upon feeling it you found it was, in fact, extremely soft. 

“Agh!” You made an exasperated sound, overwhelmed with affection for the soft boy before you. “You look so cute!” you cooed.

Yoongi pouted a little. “Jackson and Irene said I look handsome,” he protested.

“And handsome.” You nodded in agreement, scratching the base of his ears. He purred and leaned into your hand. “My handsome honey boy.”

Yoongi’s eyes opened quickly and you wondered if he disliked the nickname. But his gummy smile quickly reassured you before he wrapped you in a hug, burying his face in your neck. His purrs rumbled through his chest and into yours, tail swishing happily behind him. You chuckled, continuing to stroke his hair.

“It looks great,” you said, placing a soft kiss in his hair. You glanced up at Jackson and Irene. She was watching the exchange with her head resting on Jackson’s shoulder, starry-eyed. You blinked, coming back to yourself and stepping away from Yoongi.

“Thank you so much for taking good care of him,” you said.

“Anytime,” Jackson answered. “Please come again. We do women’s hair too, you know.”

Jackson took his leave as Irene walked you to the counter to pay. Yoongi swiped his card with a bit of pride, though you winced at the hit his funds were taking. You were happy for him, since you knew independence was important to him. But you still wished he’d let you take care of him a little more.

Irene smiled as she watched the two of you, Yoongi’s free hand firmly clasping yours. “You two are really cute together,” she said. “You don’t see a lot of human-hybrid relationships like yours. It’s refreshing.”

You looked at her dumbly for a second before realizing what she meant. “Oh! We aren’t a couple,” you said. Yoongi flinched beside you and released your hand to put in his pin number. Irene frowned, not convinced.

“What about you and him?” You nodded to the direction where Jackson had gone. 

Irene blushed and stammered, effectively redirecting the conversation. “Jackson? We aren’t, like, official or anything. Just coworkers. And friends. He’s technically my boss, too.” She laughed awkwardly, busying herself getting Yoongi’s receipt. You let the subject drop, heart beating oddly fast. Were you seriously that worked up by the suggestion of you and Yoongi being together. 

You glanced over at him. The muscles in his jaw were tight as he focused determinedly on reading the ingredients of a shampoo bottle he had picked up. You hoped the statement hadn’t made him too uncomfortable. One of your greatest fears was Yoongi feeling like he owed you that. From what little he’d told you of his background, he wasn’t used to having a choice. You’d never want him to be with you out of some ingrained sense of obligation.

Yoongi interrupted your thoughts when he spoke. “Thank you,” he said again, bowing politely. Then he took his receipt and quickly turned to leave. Irene gave him a sad smile as you hurried after him. What was that about?

“Yoongi, wait up!” you jogged after him. When you caught up you looped your arm through his. You examined his face, but his expression was totally neutral. You tugged on his arm to get his attention. “What should we do for dinner?” He gave a noncommittal grunt. “What do you feel like eating, honey boy?” His stoic expression cracked a little, even as he turned his face to hide it. You laughed triumphantly.

“How about meat? Hanwoo?” you suggested, knowing his weakness all too well.

His eyes sparkled at the mention of the dish, which the two of you reserved as a treat for special occasions. He nodded, finally rewarding you with a small smile. You tugged on his arm playfully and dragged him toward the alley housing your favorite barbeque restaurant, happy that any tension seemed to have faded.

[rachel-rebellio]

Autumn is the Best Time of Year

part 1

          It was a crisp autumn, November 3rd to be precise, and y/n was trying to distract herself from her post-Halloween depression the best way she knew how. She was tired of the typical Southern California sun and fires, so she decided to get in her car and drive up to Big Bear so she could see the autumn colours she had grown to love so much. She took in the sights as she slowly drove ‘round the lake with the windows down, letting the fresh mountain air hit her face and fill her lungs. She pulled into the Big Bear Village to bum through some of her favourite shops and get a bite to eat at a local restaurant.

          As she was wandering through town, she came across an art gallery that hadn’t been open on her previous trips. Being a lover of art, y/n quickly wiped the wet leaves off her boots and fixed her beanie to better sit on her head. It was a small gallery, but it was showcasing multiple local artists from all over Big Bear City. The pieces were all beautifully done, but one in particular caught y/n’s eye. It was an oil painting of the lake surround by autumn foliage with the sun gleaming off the water. She had seen that sight plenty of times, but this artist brought a whole new perspective to it.

          Y/n stood admiring the painting for several minutes when someone bumped into her. She quickly turned around saying, “Oh, I’m so sorry! Was I in your way?” just as this stranger also turned around saying, “I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you there, are you okay?” Y/n was taken aback by handsome stranger when their eyes met. She was just as tall as he was, but it still felt like she had to look up to make eye contact. He made her feel small in the best way.

          “Hey, have we met before?” Y/n asked.

          “I don’t think so. I would’ve remembered a face as beautiful as yours.” He said, causing y/n to break eye contact so she could look down and try to hide her cheeks flushing red. Y/n looked up after a couple moments and said, “Well, my name is y/n. It’s nice to meet you-“

          “…Ma-Matthew. My name is Matthew.” He said, stumbling over his words through a chuckle to fill the silence where y/n trailed off.

          “I love that name. So, are you a big fan of the arts Matthew?”

          “Yeah! I’m actually a little bit of an artist myself! I published a book that I wrote and illustrated about a green monster named Rumple Buttercup.”

          “Whoa, really? That’s so cool!”

          “What about you? Are you a big art fan?”

          “I love it! I’m a black and grey portrait artist, myself. I love drawing people.”

          “I bet you’re amazing. I’d love to see your work sometime!”

          “I definitely have room for improvement, but I’m a lot better than I was when I started a few years back. I’m totally self-taught; so it’s been a bit of a slow process.” Y/n said, trying not to sound too self-deprecating right away.

           “So, what caught your eye about this piece?” Matthew asked y/n in an attempt to keep the conversation going.

          “Well, I’ve been up here so many times. I like to come up here and enjoy the colours of my favourite season every early November to try and help my post-Halloween depression. I’m not ready for Christmas quite yet and Halloween is my favourite holiday, so I need some time between. But, I don’t know. This painting just captured a scene I’ve personally seen so many times, but in a brand new light; and their colour theory? Are you kidding me? So good! Autumn is my favourite season, so it’s not too often that I find something that allows me to see it in a new light and through a different lens. I’m so sorry, I’m just rambling at this point. What about you? Do you like it?” Y/n asked, blushing and nervously playing with her hair as she looked over and saw Matthew paying full attention to every word she was saying.

          “I haven’t been here many times, but I love their use of colour and the blending of the oil paints. Oil always gives it that nice gleam and blend to the colours.” Matthew said with a smile, physically pointing out the things he was talking about. Y/n couldn’t help but notice how beautiful his hands were as they gestured about and pointed to specific details as he talked. She could have listened to him talk passionately about anything for hours on end without ever getting tired of hearing his voice. Suddenly, Matthew turned to y/n, who was watching him closely even after he finished talking, and said, “I’m sorry if this is too forward, but would you like to get some coffee or cider with me? I saw a little coffee shop just down the street.”

          Y/n tried to hide her excitement and answered as calmly as she could, “I would love that. I could always go for some hot apple cider.” Matthew walked with y/n out of the gallery, holding the door open for her on their way out. She couldn’t fathom what was happening; guys never paid attention to her, let alone a guy who looked like this. His brown, curly hair was just long enough to curl over his forehead and ears, barely touching his neck. His glasses framed his face so well and were large enough that you could see his brown eyes that crinkled nearly closed whenever he smiled his smile that was so warm and inviting. On the way to the coffee shop, they made small talk about some of their favourite artists.

          They walked up to the counter to order heir drinks but when y/n pulled out her wallet to pay for her own, Matthew placed his hand on hers and said, “Hey now, getting cider was my idea, I got you covered.”

          Y/n smirked at him and said, “Fine. But the next one’s on me.”

          “Sounds like a plan.” Matthew said with a quiet smirk right back at her as she, in that moment, wondered if there would even be a next time. Once they got their drinks, they went outside and saw that the fireplace had been lit, so they decided to sit on one of the benches next to it to enjoy their drinks and talk. It was now around 5p.m. and the sun had started to set so the autumn leaves looked even more beautiful in the olden light. Matthew and y/n were sipping their respective drinks and talking about how they celebrated Halloween after finding out that it was both of their favourite holidays. He went as Vincent Price and y/n was convinced she would never beat that costume, as Vincent Price was easily one of her favourite actors of all time. Y/n was about to finally admit what her costume was when Matthew quickly scooped up some of the leaves and dumped them on y/n’s head.

          Y/n gasped, set down her apple cider, and said, “Ohhh, you’re on. I declare war!” as she scooped up an even bigger pile of leaves to throw at him. The two of them threw leaves at each other until Matthew wrapped y/n up in a one-armed hug, pinning her against him so he could take off her beanie off and continue dropping leaves on her head until she yielded. Laughing, y/n tapped Matthew’s arm saying, “Okay! Fine! I yield! Have Mercy!” which caused Matthew to also laugh until he fell to the side, still holding onto y/n. While lying on the ground, he looked to her and said, “Well that was fun hon! I always appreciate a woman who can hold her own in a leaf fight.”

          Y/n shook her head at him before grabbing one last handful of leaves to throw at him and then stood to her feet yelling, “Victory is mine!”

          “Oh, so that’s how it’s gonna be?! Fine, you win this time.” Matthew said, standing to his feet and raising his hands in defeat which caused them to both start laughing as they picked leaves out of each other’s hair.

          “I really didn’t think this weather through.” Y/n stated, starting to shiver. “I had such a one track mind about coming up here that I was stupid and forgot a jacket… and this flannel really isn’t doing the job. Mind if we step into the shop across the street so I can get a jacket?”

          “Here, you can wear mine, if you don’t mind the possibility of it clashing with your flannel.”

          “Not at all, but aren’t you going to be cold?”

          “Nah, I’m fine. Maybe you could hold my hand to keep me warm.” Matthew remarked, trying his best to be smooth; although it may have come across as more awkward than savvy.

          “Now there’s a nifty idea huh?”

          “I try.” Matthew said with a chuckle in his voice. Y/n accepted the offer to wear his jacket and when she put it on, she noticed three things.

          1.       It was still warm from him wearing it.

          2.       It smelled amazing.

          3.       There was a single ping pong ball in the left pocket.

          “If you don’t mind me asking, what exactly do you have a ping pong ball in your pocket for?” Y/n asked, pulling the ball from the pocket.

          “Oh, so one thing you don’t know about me is that I’m actually a magician. Here, I’ll show you a trick!” Matthew practically yelled in excitement.

          Y/n handed him the ping pong ball and Matthew knelt down in front of her saying, “Okay, now watch closely.”

          Y/n did as she was told and watched as Matthew’s hands showed her the ping pong ball and encased it. He held his hand out to her and said, “Okay, now blow on it.”

          Confused, but eager, Y/n blew on the small white ball. Matthew made a weird noise and said, “My turn now.” and blew on it before making yet another weird noise. Y/n started laughing, but kept watching closely as Matthew opened his hands to reveal the ping pong ball had disappeared.

          “Whoa! That’s so cool! Where is it?” Y/n gasped through her smile, wanting to know how it was done.

          “Check the pocket again.”

          “What- wait… HOW?” Y/n exclaimed as she pulled the small ball back out of the jacket pocket.

          “Nope! Nu-uh. A true magician never reveals his secrets.” Matthew explained with a smirk on his face and his arms folded.

          “What about an amateur magician? Can he reveal his secrets?” Y/n asked, smirking right back at him. Matthew looked shocked at her response before dramatically pretending to be deeply hurt by her calling him an amateur.

          “I’m sorry! I had to! Forgive me?” Y/n asked, giving Matthew her best please face.

          “I guess.” Matthew said, pouting. “But you’re going to have to make it up to me for that remark little miss.”

          Y/n asked hesitantly, but also very excitedly, “Oh? What did you have in mind?”

[jochumsenkirkpatrick8-blog]

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By selecting Allied Van Strains, with its vary of companies and no-surprise pricing, you'll be able to relaxation assured your belongings will make the trek to Florida with out a problem. I shall attempt the remainder in a while, possibly after I peruse a hub on taxes or, uh, movers orange county health points in USA? A brand new tax reform invoice has simply been signed by President Trump reducing corporate tax charges in order that firms can higher compete with the rest of the world. Companies like La Habra Relocations have testimonials put on their sites to help clients determine. Self promotion works. I hand out flyers and business playing cards and put up signs at busy intersections. Guardian Transferring & Storage has been in enterprise for over 50 years, and we plan to provide superior moving services for one more 50 years. 611 to contact them along with your pay go plan. In spite of everything, Austin is known as the Music Capitol of the World.

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[jarrettfuller]

Put a bird on it

Prologue The most challenging design projects, they say, are the ones you do for yourself. Without parameters and constraints, timelines and clients, you miss the checks and balances that can often guide the process. The markers that tell you you're on the right track, moving in the right direction, are absent. When I was an undergraduate, I had a class where we had to design personal logos we could use on letterhead, stationery, and business cards in preparation for our impending job searches. It was honestly the hardest project of my college years.

Part 1: A Love Story On January 8, 2017, I proposed to my girlfriend, Eurry. It was three years to the day since our first date. We had met over a video conference when we both were working at Facebook; I was in San Francisco and she was in New York. I was a designer and she was a data researcher. One day in the middle of December, my team's project manager asked if I had some time to work on a small data visualization project for someone on the data team in New York. I reluctantly agreed. 'Small projects' always seemed to turn into 'big projects' and this was a team we hadn't worked with before. But a meeting was scheduled and I walked in knowing nothing. I was caught off guard when a cute girl wearing a black and white striped sweater from the New York office popped up on the video screen. I vaguely remember saying something to my project manager when we left the meeting about how cool Eurry seemed. I immediately sent her a Facebook friend request.

A few weeks later she was in the California office and we met in person to go over updates on the project. The meeting quickly turned into friendly conversation about our lives, discovering all sorts of shared interests. I didn't want the meeting to end. The next time she was in town, we went out for drinks and we have talked every day since, beginning what became a multi-year, bicoastal long distance relationship. We became best friends and fell in love.

We both eventually left Facebook — I went to graduate school and she went to work on Hillary Clinton's presidential campaign. We traveled, tried countless new restaurants, met each other's families, watched a lot of movies, and laughed a lot. We started talking about marriage, about moving in together, about our future. And then on a freezing, snowy morning last January after I pulled a ring from my pocket, I asked her to marry me. Through tears she said 'duh'.

But the story I'm writing here is not one of our relationship or of planning a wedding or even our wedding day. That's a story we want to save for our friends and family. Our married friends told us how all-consuming wedding planning can be so we decided early on that we'd share the planning responsibilities and take ownership over the parts we respectively cared more about. Eurry has stronger opinions about drinks, for example, so she'd handle the bar menu while I cared more about music and was tasked with choosing songs for our first dance and processional. You probably see where this is going: I was in charge of the visual design. And the visual design, it turned out, would be a special kind of challenge. This is a story about that process.

Part 2: Location, Location, Location Designing for our wedding became the hardest design project I've ever completed; certainly more challenging than those personal logos I did in college. It wasn't just about how I could represent our wedding visually but how to represent our entire relationship visually. We knew we wanted it to feel different — we wanted something casual and fun, informal and nontraditional. And we both desperately wanted to avoid the cliche calligraphy so dominant in wedding design these days. Almost immediately after we got engaged, I created a massive Illustrator file where I began setting our names in nearly every typeface I own in search of an interesting lockup or style that might emerge (perhaps something interesting with the double R's in both our names? Nope, too obvious), but for a long time it felt like I was going in circles, unable to figure out what our wedding should look like.

The biggest decision we had to make, however, was where we wanted to get married. One weekend last spring, we were sitting on the couch with our laptops looking at potential venues when Eurry found the John James Audubon House, located right outside Philadelphia and just forty-five minutes from where I grew up. We immediately knew this was where we wanted to get married. Audubon was a naturalist and a painter, most known for his paintings of birds. In an ambitious quest, he set out to paint every bird in North America, discovering at least twenty-five new species in the process. These paintings are collected in his famous book, The Birds of North America, which is considered the best ornithological work ever completed. This was Audubon's first home in North America and has since been converted to a public park, bird conservatory, and museum in his honor. We scheduled a visit a few weeks later and fell in love with the property — there was a beautiful apple orchard where we planned to hold the ceremony and an old barn perfect for a party. We picked a date and booked it.

It feels like cheating, but the venue helped clarify the visual design. The Audubon Society has made most of Audubon's paintings available in the public domain and offers high resolution reproductions as free downloads. I could use these images in the design! We both have love of birds and have a secret ambitions to get into birding. In fact, very early in our relationship, we laughed in amazement at how both of us had similar framed images of birds hanging in our apartments. Add the owl references from our favorite show and our love of Portlandia, a bird-themed wedding seemed perfect.

Part 3: Put a Bird On It With the venue booked and a library of high-resolution bird paintings on my hard drive, the design started to take shape. I went through countless typefaces — some were too formal and others too playful. I settled on ITC Serif Gothic for the logotype and Pitch for the accent typography. Serif Gothic is a typeface I've always admired but had yet to find an appropriate use for and Pitch has become a favorite monospace. Paired together, they immediately gave the design something that felt unique — blending the classic with the casual, the fun with the traditional.

I knew this would have to be treated like a brand — as it would be applied to everything from save the dates to name tags, invitations to menus — and needed to be flexible enough to work across mediums and scales. I decided we could allow design system to slowly reveal itself — using the incremental mailings, save the dates, invites, and RSVPs, to allow the entire aesthetic to unfold, each piece to increase in complexity and vibrancy as we got closer to the wedding day. The Save the Date cards that went out to our guests six months before the wedding were a simple black and white card, printed on a crisp white 130lb paper. A small vector bird perched atop an 'r' in Eurry's name hinted at the larger theme, the forest green envelopes previewed the color palette.

We directed guests to visit our website — eurryandjarrett.com — for travel and hotel details, links to our gift registry, and more information about the day itself. We used the website to introduce the venue and Audubon's paintings. The colors — forest green, a silvery-blue, and light pink — were pulled from a few of our favorite birds.

Three months later, the official invitations went out. Packaged in light blue envelopes, the invitations first appear to be black and white: the nameplate we introduced on the Save the Dates is on the front and opens for more information and RSVP details. But the invitation folds out one more time to reveal a large poster featuring a collage of Audubon's paintings, including the birds from which we pulled our colors as well as the state birds of California (where Eurry was born and where we met), Indiana (where I was born), New York (where we live now), and Pennsylvania (where I grew up and where we were getting married). We wanted something memorable — something that might not just be hung up on the refrigerator or thrown away after the wedding, but a piece of art our guests could remember our wedding by.

Part 4: The Day The design came together in a 20-page booklet I designed in place of a traditional program that included not only details about the day but also family photographs, a few of our favorite recipes, fun facts, and thank yous. Again, we wanted something people would want to keep — a scrapbook of sorts that our guests would feel invested in as they found photos of themselves and learn more about us and our story. The cover of the book expanded the collage from the invitation to include images of some of our favorite things and memorable moments in our relationship: the flowers from Eurry's bouquet, Twin Peaks and Portlandia, doughnuts, succulents, the Facebook sign, gummy bears, and ice cream.

Collage has become a go-to visual style of mine and is central to my own design process. For our wedding, I realized it could once again allow me to include everything we love instead of trying to find a color or style that somehow represented all of us. A key in the back of the book gave descriptions of everything hidden in the collage. This gave us variety in the design system while retaining a clear, distinct style; at once simple and diverse.

The venue offered their own signage, menus, and table numbers but we swapped them out for custom designs to match our design system. For dinner, three dishes were offered — chicken, fish, and vegetarian — and we asked our guests to select their preference on the RSVP cards. Their selections were noted on the name tags with small iconography to help the servers. (One of my favorite details: one couple brought their young child, who was served chicken fingers, and we noted his selection with a baby chick!). The florist decorated the tables forest green table clothes, navy napkins, and natural arrangements of ferns, succulents, and monstera. I designed table numbers that had Audubon's birds wrapped around each number, set in Serif Gothic that were placed in each arrangement. A small box with custom labels of black cherry gummy bears were set at each guest's plate as a small gift of thanks.

Beverages were offered before the ceremony started and were labeled with matching signage and drinks menus were displayed at the bar giving details on the wine and beer offerings. For the visitors who came in from out of town, a small gift bag was left in their hotel room with a few of our favorite things and a small postcard detailing the event (including the school bus that brought guests from the hotel to the venue!) and thanking them for coming into town. As if designing a brand system, every interaction our guests had at the wedding had been customized to match our design, from arriving at the hotel to the thank you notes sent out after. Each piece was fully branded and could stay on its own yet when brought together, created a narrative of our relationship.

It was fun to see it all come together and I enjoyed watching people read the booklets before the ceremony began. We couldn't have done it without the amazing team at Audubon and Jeffrey Miller Catering, who put it all together exactly like we wanted it. You can see more images of the design here.

Epilogue At the beginning of the summer, we got married in a barn in front of the people we love the most just as it began to rain. As we were pronounced husband and wife, Carly Rae Jepson's I Really Like You started playing. We moved to the pavilion where speeches brought us to tears; we ate and drank and thanked every guest for being there and being a part of our lives; we danced into the night as the rain poured outside.

The entire day feels like a blur to me. It was hard to take it all in. All the planning, all the designing, all the celebrating felt like a whirlwind. You know you've been to a good party, I think, when you have no pictures to remember it by. You were so in the moment you forgot to stop and document it. When we talked to our families the next day, none of us had any photos. So when we got our wedding photos back last week, we poured through every single one, reliving the day as spectators, piecing together the memories we had made. The same is true of the design. Designing for my own wedding was easily the hardest design project of my life because this wasn't another design or branding project but a scrapbook of our lives so far and a commemoration of our new life together. This was how we'd remember the day. Working on these pieces consumed our lives for the few months leading up the wedding and though it was just a small part of a day filled with friends and family and laughing and dancing and eating and drinking and birds and love. They serve as markers in time, totems for ourselves and our family and friends. Another way to remember a perfect day. It was the best day of my life. The next day, my face hurt from smiling so much.

[natsuhikoshidou]

Life Cheating Game - Chapter 2: At Optimum Temperature(Part 2)

Chapter 2: Part 1  |  Chapter 3: Part 1

DATING... START!!!

I felt like Sora was about to say something in the school infirmary, there was that.

But, the days leading up to Sunday felt dreadfully long, the cause probably was simply something like enjoying the date with Sora.

'Is it ok if our meeting place is Hachiougi Station?'

"Yeah. What time?"

'9 am would be good. If it's too early the shops won’t be open, if we're late we can't enjoy our time.’

"Ok. Hachiougi station, 9 o'clock then."

The night before. Sora and I were deciding on the meeting place and time over the phone.

'This is a long-awaited date. Don't be late, Natsuhiko.'

"I know."

'Ok then. Well, see you tomorrow. Goodnight'

"Yeah, goodnight."

For several seconds, after being flooded by the reverberation of Sora's voice, I ended the call.

After that, I turned over the card on my desk.

‘Tomorrow, the lunch in the appropriate restaurant will taste bad, and the mood will worsen. For safety, go to a family restaurant.’

(* A family restaurant is a common type of restaurant in Japan which tends to serve a large variety of food, especially Western food. The name ‘family restaurant’ comes from the focus on family dining, so that children can always find something they like. Denny’s is a considered a family restaurant)

For some reason, this seemed like date advice.

However, it helped. I investigated the location of a family restaurant on my mobile phone, made a memo of it and put it in my bag for tomorrow.

Coincidentally I checked the contents of my bag.

"...Ok. The preparations are complete, as they say."

The clothes I'm wearing tomorrow are already prepared. When I confirmed them too I slipped into my futon.

That night, for a reason different to when before I had the card, I really couldn't fall asleep.

◊

I looked at the clock while I fidgeted.

The time is 8:50am. A little earlier than the time we had promised.

It's Sunday. I'm at Hachiougi Station. Looking around the outside of the bus rotary, there’s a plaza, there were street performers there too. There seemed to be lots of people meeting up apart from me.

Previously, the concourse inside the station was a popular meeting spot for people, a short while ago there was an explosion, so recently most people that use this station plaza instead.

Before Sora arrives, I lightly check my clothes. My clothes, which I planned to be as stylish as I could in my own way, probably ended up leaving the impression that I tried too hard. Aware of Akito’s clothes that I saw before, my coat with the strange design is the same as the one he wore.

"These ear cuffs are probably showing off too much…”

Also wearing some other rings and necklaces and stuff, though I tried to imitate what I saw Akito wearing, I confess, they’re actually all things I bought from a 100 yen store. Because what Akito wore has definitely got to be from a brand, it makes a considerable difference.

I raised my head and looked around the square. Sora still wasn't there.

I looked at the clock once more. The minute hand moved very slowly.

".....Hey, wait"

Why am I fidgeting like this? Sora calling it a date was just like a joke, today I was simply just going into town with my childhood friend.

Trying to persuade myself that, I couldn't stop my lips from smiling.

While breathing deeply over and over again, five minutes of waiting

"Morning, Natsuhiko"

"Aah, Sora. Morni...ng?"

When I tried to return the greeting to Sora, who had finally arrived, I froze up.

On her white blouse lined with lace on the sleeves and collar, she wore a pale pink cardigan, below that, she wore a slightly wide flared mini skirt, her long thin legs that extended from its hem were also covered with white lace stockings.

Her pale coloured clothes perfectly matched her beautiful black hair, the charm of the girl Sora Fushimi, was fully active.

"You're pretty early. I tried to hurry, did I keep you waiting?"

Sora smiling bashfully, to me, she looked like she was glittering.

It seems like she put on light makeup, I was captivated by her glossy pink lips.

"........."

"Hmm? What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost"

"Eh? A, eh?"

Speaking to Sora, with upturned eyes, I finally returned back to earth.

My heart, which felt like it stopped for a moment, strung with a furious heartbeat like a backlash.

"U, um. Sora's , uh, you’re wearing, unusual clothes..."

Full of agitation, my head and tongue weren’t working well, and I ended up blurting out something weird.

What's more, I said ‘unusual clothes’. I wanted to say something nicer. They suit you very well, they look really cute, I could...no...it's useless....

"Ooh, that. I only really wear skirts and stuff with our uniform. This frilly stuff is too unlike me I guess… It’s weird, isn’t it?”

While she looked down at her own clothes, Sora spun around once on the spot.

When she did, her already short skirt fluttered, my heart beat so furiously I was worried it could break out of my ribs and fly out.

"I-It's not that. They’re not weird. Not at all"

"Hm. You think? Saying that makes me feel happy."

"Y,yeah. They’re… far from strange...uh… they really, suit, you."

Building up the courage, I added with a very thin voice.

"R, right. They suit me. Right..."

Sora muttered while letting her gaze swim away.

Her cheeks looked kind of red, probably because of her makeup.

".........."

".........."

For a short while, a moment of silence flowed by.

I couldn't say anything in this tension, Sora also looked down in silence.

"…A, Aaah. This, uhh.. I actually, got some advice from Momiji."

Before long, after it seemed like she did vocal exercises, Sora spoke and raised her head.

"About this long awaited date, I dressed up a little for it."

"R-Right. But why Momiji?"

"I only have a few friends who are girls of the same age, you probably know that. But those girls don't know what your taste is."

"My taste?"

"The date you and I are going on together. Or should I say I chose these clothes with something apart from your tastes in mind? They're completely in reference to Momiji's advice"

My heart which began to calm down, pounded strongly again. If there was any more of a burden on it my heart might start to break.

But the word 'date' is merely an "outing" today with my fellow childhood friend, I thought.

However, Sora’s even wearing a skirt that she doesn't usually wear, even said she’s dressing fashionably from taking advice from a pre-schooler. Also, meeting my tastes, she said.

With these, it seems like, this really is a date.

Honestly, like date between a girl and boy that like each other, doesn’t it---.

"Well then, we should head off soon."

As she said that Sora walked off towards the station.

The stupid me followed after her, confused, and she said,

"Oh. I forgot to say something."

While her black hair fluttered, she turned around.

"I think your clothes suit you too. Yes. I'm falling in love again."

With a smile more dazzling than the sun, she said.

Me too, but I didn't say that, maybe out of cowardice.

 ◊

 Leaving from Hachiougi to the city center took roughly an hour.

When reached the terminal that boasts of the world's highest number of users, the time was around 10am.

"...Well, where should we go?"

Sora said with a large voice, after we descended the platform crowded with people.

"I really haven't thought about it."

"Well then. I received a lecture from Momiji about the usual, general standard for dates. According to that, it seems like the routine is window shopping, isn’t it."

"Yeah, I've heard that before."

Though I don't definitely know what kind of shopping to do.

"Ok. First, we could try and browse some of the clothing stores in the station."

"Ok but... which one?"

"What do you mean, which one?"

"In this station? There's a lot of stations."

There are several similarly named stations and stores, and also down the maze-like subterranean tunnels, there are connecting tunnels underneath the buildings. If those are included in the definition of the station, then an unbelievable amount of buildings could be called stations.

To tell the truth, I've come to the city centre several times, but Sora and I haven't hung out in the outskirts of the station too much. Mostly, we use it to transfer transportation and pass through it.

Just to be sure, on the internet yesterday, I went to investigate places to hang out and the location of the family restaurant written on the card, I didn't think of window shopping.

"Hmm...In that case, let's just go wherever."

"Not like we have a choice."

As we agreed on that, we went towards the east ticket gates and left towards the train station.

"They literally only have clothing stores..."

When we saw the information board, it looked like most of the stores were fashion related shops.

"But it looks like upstairs is pretty much restaurants."

"It's too early for lunch though. We could try and look around a little, couldn’t we."

Inside the building, though it was Sunday, it was teeming with visitors.

Moreover, they were mostly young girls, the shops were also full of brands for girls. I would never come in here if I wasn’t with Sora, I thought.

".........."

".........."

And there was silence.

The visitors apart from us were chatting and having fun while looking at clothes, I didn't know anything about women's fashion, Sora was probably the same. Staying together, we had nothing to talk about while we looked at the clothes.

Unable to bear the atmosphere of simply staring at the mannequins in silence, I spoke.

"H, hey, Sora. Are there any clothes that catch your attention?."

"No."

"You don't have to declare it like that-"

"I can't help it, ok? Nothing really interests me. I usually only wear the clothes my mom buys me, and the clothes I'm wearing now are all things Momiji chose. To me, I don’t have a clue if something’s good or bad.”

Sora made a face like a scholar challenging a theory from a difficult-to-understand philosophy when she saw a shirt with an illustration from an anime printed on it.

"It looks like you put on makeup today, did you?"

"I let my mom do it. She taught me how to fix it when it gets ruined, but who knows if I can actually do it.”

She returned the shirt to the rack while scowling, Sora unintentionally forced a smile at me.

It wasn’t womanly, however, above anything it was Sora-ly.

"Fuu... It's no use. Let's go to another shop."

Like an anguished researcher at a stalemate, Sora shook her head.

"If we walk a little there’s a big bookstore, let's go there."

Sora nodded strongly at my proposal, we left the flashy fashion building.

Leaving the station crowded by a huge amount of people, the large bookstore we finally arrived at after a few minutes of walking had much less people than the train station as you’d expect, there was an extensive range of customers of all ages and genders.

"...Ah, this book."

The paperback book lined up on the storefront came to view, my feet stopped.

"This is the book Momiji asked for the other day."

"Oh ho. Let’s see.”

Sora took the single copy on the flat display, and flipped through the pages.

The pile of books decorated and written with pop art saying "A Long Awaited Paperback Publishment", was considerably big. In the bookstore near Hachiougi station there was a corner where new books were placed, surprisingly it was treated differently than there.

"Hmm. It's a mystery novel after all. It seems pretty interesting."

"Sora, you read mystery novels, don’t you?"

"I don't fuss over genre. ...Though, novels that tend to catch my interest are usually mystery or sci-fi. It seems Momiji is completely devoted to mystery novels."

Sora said while returning the book to the pile.

"If it interests you will you buy it?"

"No, it's fine. I can borrow it from Momiji now."

Entering the store, a corner for much-discussed work was prepared near the entrance. The lined up books were mostly manuals, I saw lots of books written about hygiene and diet.

"There’s so many diet books. Sora, are you interesting in dieti-"

"No."

"Right.”

At a glance, she didn't look like she needed to diet, now she wasn't in a state of paying attention to her body weight and figure.

"But this one's interesting."

While she said that the book in Sora's hands was... A book on breast enlargements.

Just now, without thinking, reflexively, my eyes went towards Sora's chest, who was standing next to me.

"As you can see, it's hopeless."

"Sure. ...Wait, ah, no, it's not!"

Sora expressed a wry smile to me, who hid my nodding in a panic.

"Don't worry. It's the truth. It's really not that complex."

"R, right. But, well, why is that interesting to you?"

"There isn’t really a reason “why”… Natsuhiko, do you like large chested girls?"

While tilting her head and staring at me, for a moment, I lost my voice.

"...Do you not?"

"Ah, no... it's, not that. I mean, I haven't really thought about whether I like large chested girls in the first place..."

"Is that right? So you don't mind if it’s a cliff face like this?"

Sora spoke while brushing down her own chest.

"A, a cliff face. I don't care. Being large chested..."

I stressed at being unable to read the intention of Sora’s statement, I tried to say my true feelings.

Though my male classmates always get excited over things like "Someone in the other class has huge boobs", I didn't participate in that, I wasn’t aware until just now that comparing Sora’s chest to the average, hers was smaller.

"Right... ok. Right right."

While expressing a relieved smile for some reason, Sora returned the breast enlargement book to the shelf. I became increasingly confused about the state of that girl.

Sora is different than usual today. She seems like she’s behaving like my girlfriend, not my childhood friend, or maybe that’s just my hubris…

"It seems like the second story is the paperback floor. …Ok, I should try and buy some sort of souvenir for Momiji, shouldn’t I."

Following Sora, who’s suddenly in a good mood, we went up to the second floor.

From the new work corner, prepared on the place that stood out most on the floor, a single copy of a mystery novel which seemed to meet Momiji's preferences was chosen, and bought.

After that, we went around the shop while chatting.

"Look at the price of this book, Natsuhiko"

Sora took the A6 book in her hand, and said with a serious expression.

"630 yen, do you think that’s a normal price?" (*~ $5.60)

"It is, right? But in the station we stopped by earlier, one shirt was being sold at 6,000 yen. Can you believe that? Isn't that 10 times this book?"  (~ $53.45)

"Hmm, I don't know about the market for girl's clothes though..."

"Oh my god, looking at this, you get a sense of how people's values are different. For me, I would rather choose to buy 10 books so I don’t end up in a situation where that’s all I have to wear, but there are people that would choose to buy a 6,000 yen shirt like it’s normal in this world…”

With that immense culture shock, Sora groaned with a glum face, uuhm.

Looking around one more time, when we left the shop, it was getting close to midday.

"It’s already this late... should we eat lunch soon?"

"No, before that, let’s go over there."

Where Sora was pointing, there was a brand new building with white outer walls.

Things that looked like posters stuck in picture frames were lined up in a row on the wall.

"Is that a movie theatre?"

"Mhm. A movie is said to be a routine for dates. ....That’s the advice I got from Momiji."

"Haah..."

Momiji again. If she tells Sora weird things that's fine, but....

First of all, we went into the movie theatre.

The expansive lobby was filled with a diversity of people, groups of students, groups of old people, and huge amounts of families. Lining up in the queue to the ticket desk, we looked up at the screen showing the performance timetable.

"What should we watch?"

"To be honest, I've already decided."

As she said that, the title Sora brought up was a long-run screening of a western film.

It's a work that's brought up on the internet and television a lot, so I already knew most of the contents. Because of that, I asked Sora.

"Are you really sure? Is this your type?"

"Uh huh. Momiji recommended it. Because we're on a date you should watch this one, she said."

The seating arrangement was almost a full house.

Since the time of release approximately half a year ago has passed, the film has been hugely popular.

Soon the film started, it was a love story with a touch of comedy.

While it had moderate comedy, in the carefully created work where the man and women earnestly fell in love, I was gradually sucked into the story.

And then, the film came to a touching end. It was such I good work I thought I should have watched it earlier. I agreed with its high popularity.

".....?"

When the credits began flowing, something soft and warm touched my hand.

Sitting next to me, Sora put her hand on top of mine.

In a moment, my heart thumped, and I looked at Sora's face. Though it was in the darkness, I knew she was smiling while looking at my face.

Thump, thump... my heart rang out. It wasn't a violent throbbing.

I couldn't think.

I simply gazed at Sora like I was entranced, and entwined my fingers, with her fingers.

As soon as I did, heartache overflowed.

--- More. I still want more.

I want to connect even deeper, I squeezed Sora's hand.

Sora's hand squeezed me back too.

The joy of recieving that gentleness made me want to cry.

Soon the credits finished while our fingers and gazes were intertwined.

--- I just can't take my fingers or my eyes away.

That's what I thought.

But reality is cruel.

When the movie was over the audience had to leave outside

In the hustle and bustle of visitors leaving their seats, Sora and I came to our senses.

We untied our intertwined gazes, which had both become red.

Our entangled hands also had to unwrap with hesitancy.

That being the case, gradually I regained my composure, living in the space to look back on me from earlier, in the short space while we left the movie theatre, I couldn't properly look at Sora's face.

--- Why did I do something so embarrassing!

That was by mere chance, that’s the only thing I could think. I was swallowed up in the atmosphere of the movie. That act was clearly too much for the childhood friend territory.

But... I thought.

Sora accepted it. The act stepped over the childhood friend distance, she allowed it.

While I thought about the meaning of that in my still feverish head, I glanced over at Sora and...

".....!?"

Sure enough our eyes met, I looked away with a bounce, and hung my head.

"W...Well then! Would you look at the time! If it isn't time for lunch!"

Like she was trying to hide something, Sora spoke in a large voice.

"Are you pretty hungry now, Natsuhiko?"

"Y, yeah."

Sora returned to her usual tone and volume, I replied to her in a small voice. Though I still couldn't look at Sora, I knew that on her body her ears were still pretty red.

"Seems like there's a lot of restaurants around here, we should go to the most fitting one."

"Ah, wait a second."

Sora, who proposed while walking, stopped.

"Should we have lunch at a family restaurant?"

"Family restaurant?"

"It's difficult going into a shop you don't know, because, well... they might have crappy stuff."

Sora put her finger on her chin, and after thinking for a short while she nodded, "You have a point"

"So let's look for a nearby family restaurant"

"That's fine. I already investigated."

"...You already prepared. Did you plan on going to a family restaurant from the very beginning?"

Not really, as i answered, I pulled out the memo with the location of the family restaurant written on it from my bag.

This is to avoid the misfortune the card showed me last night. Today too, no more misfortune will happen. I didn't seem to show the relief on my face.

"Now you mention it, did you understand that from that card?"

"...Eh!?"

I almost dropped the memo.

"Before, the card wrote for you to be careful of the rain that afternoon. Or was it just a prank by Momiji?"

"A,aah....yeah… I… I wonder if it was a prank? Uh.....still, that.....I guess I really don't know.......well......Ah, right! I didn't really worry about it in the end!"

That was too shaky, if I say so myself.

"Huum...Well, I'm not sure if that's right"

Apart from that, Sora didn't ask any more. Even though she probably had doubt.

But when I thought about it, I realised there was no need to hide it. I felt I wanted to hear Sora's opinion on future prediction and Maki-chan appearing in my weird dream.

Well, let's just keep hiding it for today.

The family restaurant written on the memo was full at almost 2pm, but after waiting 5 minutes some seats emptied and we were able to get a late lunch.

We talked while eating lunch, the strange mood after we left the movie theatre had disappeared, I realized at last Sora and I had returned to being childhood friends as usual. Mutually, we seemed to absolutely not touch on the incident that happened in the movie theatre.

"What should we do after this? It’ll start getting dark soon."

We finished lunch and left the family restaurant, the time was around 3pm.

"Lastly, there's a place I kind of want to go to. Is that ok?"

I nodded at Sora's proposal. She was making a strangely serious expression.

We returned to the station and got on the electric train. The route was in the direction of Hachiougi.

Sora wasn't very talkative on the train, when I asked her where we were going, she answered ambiguously and vaguely.

"We get off here."

This was Kitahiragawa station, the 3rd stop after Hachiougi station.

Above the station, there was an unbroken view of Kitahiragawa's townscape of resident housing.

Getting off on the platfrom, Sora pointed at a speck in the town that started to become dyed by the sunset.

"It's been a while, I want to ride that."

Beyond what her thin fingers pointed at, darkened in the backlight, there was a large Ferris wheel.

 ◊

 Kitahiragawa Children's Amusement Park.

A little amount of courage was needed to call this an 'amusement park' when it was a small-scale establishment.

There were merry-go-rounds and spinning teacups, they had the standard selection of play equipment, it small enough for any child, the proportioned site area was small.

However, when I was in elementary school it was a sufficiently fun place, I often burdened my parents with asking and begging them to go. Sora and her parents, and the grandparents I'm now living with have come here too.

For me, this is a place with incredibly important memories.

The inside is special, it's become a landmark for Kitahiragawa city because of its inappropriately big Ferris wheel.

"This somehow feels incredibly narrow. I guess that means we’ve grown."

Getting in the carriage fading with color, Sora and I sat facing eachother.

“The scenery’s changed too.”

I glanced outside the plastic window full of scratches.

In particular the station's surroundings were developing into a bedroom town, compared to my vague memories as a child, the number of large apartments behind me had increased.

"It's been around 7 years. It's strange that we and the town haven't changed a lot. This Ferris wheel seems like is starting to wear out though."

Rust began to fall off the window frame that Sora's finger's disciplined.

Though I know this carriage was once painted with images of rainbows and their seven colours, now the colours had faded and I was unable to distinguish between bitter orange and amber yellow.

Without replying, I felt the time pass by.

"Do you remember?"

A look dwelled in Sora's eyes like a child who thought of an amusing prank.

"The first time we rode this Ferris wheel, you got scared of heights and cried."

"Guh.... D,did that really happen?"

I averted my gaze to hide my embarrassment, but I vividly remember it.

It's a story from when I was in kindergarten. Sora and I and also my mother rode it together, even though I said I wanted to ride it, once it rotated halfway, I cried to my mother asking if we could get off quickly.

"Natsuhiko, back then you were so cute. Are you ok around high places now?"

Sora said grinning with a malicious smile, to say something back, I remembered when we were younger, and searched for something I remembered to counter-attack.

"S,Sora, you cried too. When we went in the haunted house."

"Mu..... I was just scared of unexplained phenomenon"

Sora puffed and turned her face away, but she couldn't hide the redness of her ears.

"Anyway, that was back when I was a kid.”

"I was just a kid back then."

Our faces became serious as we quarreled, and then we blurted something out at the same time.

Our bright laughing voices were trapped inside the narrow carriage.

"We both were kids, weren’t we. There were lot's of things we were scared of."

"Of course. Even still, it's rare that I cry..."

Sora wiped away the tears that had collected in her eyes from laughing too hard.

"You're crying right now."

"This doesn't count. The tears haven't come out so it's not crying."

Fuu, she said with a bold smile, Sora's gaze went outside the window.

"...Isn't it hard?"

That was a question aimed at me, I knew because her voice was gentle.

"I don't know."

While I answered honestly, I gazed at the scenery outside the window too.

"I guess I feel something. I feel bitterness in my chest."

In this ferris wheel, there was a place where Sora and my memories were cut off. It was kind of embarrassing, but it's hidden in my heart, that memory.

It was a similar memory of me and my parents in there.

"My dad let me ride on his shoulders."

What I saw that time was the same scenery I saw in the amusement park at a higher place.

"When I was lost, my mom called out for me."

The joy I felt at that time, the warmth of my mother who held me.

Though I remembered all of it, in these 7 years, I had come to confine those memories.

Today they were released, I felt something.

"I'm a little lonely....I think. But it feels different than bitterness. ...Yeah, after all, I really don't know."

"...I see."

Sora looked at me and smiled.

I looked at her and smiled too. Though I don't know if I smiled successfully.

I didn't feel lonely before I remembered my parents, but that’s because my world is so peaceful now. My quietly calm days with the future predicting ability bestowed upon me have given me the chance to smile.

Maki-chan's figure floated through my mind. Maybe Maki-chan isn't a resident of the dream world, but she is a God instead, she is the one that also gave me that card.

No, I don't care if it's Maki-chan or anyone else.

I feel grateful for whoever gave me that card.

The carriage we were in was close to reaching the highest point on the Ferris wheel.

"...Natsuhiko"

Sora met eyes with me, she expressed a serious facial expression, she spoke.

 "I love you."

 Not saying anything, at first I didn't understand the meaning.

Therefore, as if almost reflexively,

"Yeah."

I said, with a nod.

My head was in an inactive state, but it started to move,

"Is this how you respond to a so-called confession."

Sora said while smiling bitterly, and after that

Confession. I remembered the meaning of those words, I remembered the meaning of that act, I,

"~~~~~~~~!?"

I held my mouth. It wasn’t that riding the Ferris wheel was making me nauseous, what it actually was, was that being full of surprise made me emit a strange noise.

The palm that held my mouth was hot, the part of my face that was being touched was hot.

My whole body was hot like it was on fire, in my boiling head, surprise and questions jumped around like a pachinko ball.

"Co, coco, confe..... confe,ssion?"

"Right. Confession. Because I love you."

She declared it again, I thought my heart would stop.

After all, I couldn't bear it. In this surprise and this tension, and also, this joy.

"Let me spell it out for you."

Sora's face seemed to change into the same red as the colour of my face.

"I'm not saying I just love you as a childhood friend, y'know? It's not that I love you like family either. I love you, Natsuhiko Shidou, as a boy."

Again. She said 'love' again. There was a glimmering deep in her eyes.

I took the hand covering my mouth out of the way. It seems I hadn't been breathing for a little while.

Taking a deep breath, I looked at Sora's serious expression, she spoke.

"Natsuhiko.... well, I, I... I want you to be my boyfriend."

Her expression was inarticulate, it was un-Sora-esque.

Sora made both hands into fists and placed them on her lap, and waited intently for my words.

If I express my true feelings, I'll immediately want to run away.

Crowded with this feeling of tension, being soaked under this pressure made me want to jump out of the carriage... That's what I thought.

But I can't do that.

In Sora's eyes, packed full of thought, she reassured me that “You don’t have to answer.”

-If I said I didn't notice Sora's good will, it would be a lie.

The person who came to support me when I sunk down after losing my parents was without a doubt Sora. Without being comforted or encouraged, Sora simply stayed by me in silence. After I was taken in by my grandparents, when she found the spare time to she would meet up with me.

I don't know how much she's helped me with those things.

I was under the impression that Sora's dedication to supporting me was simply out of kindness, she surely must have felt betrayal.

-But what about your own feelings.

With Sora near me right now, the tranquility, warmth, and happiness I feel are all on the foundation of feelings of gratitude.

-No, they're not.

But before Sora was together with me and healed the wounds from losing my parents, I loved her. Because she was a special existence to me, when I thought I could lose everything again, I found out my reason for living.

And then today, I didn't realise.

When she turned up to our meeting place dressed the best she could.

When she murmured and worried about whether I liked large chested girls.

When she seemed to kindly wrap my hand up and squeeze back.

It was for me. I didn't notice it was for that.

-I love Sora.

For a long time, and right now too,

".....Sora"

She raised her face and immediately met my eyes.

"I love you too, Sora."

Slowly, politely, I put all of my feelings into words.

I wonder if they reached. Sora sighed deeply and held her chest.

After that, she spoke.

"Will you be my boyfriend?"

"Will you be my girlfriend?"

We asked, mutually. Mutually, we laughed. While tears began to fill up my eyes.

That smile is the answer to the question.

In this moment, surely, Sora and my relationship went from childhood friends to partners.

"You're crying again, Sora."

"I am crying. I don't know why, but that was really tense. While you say that, Natsuhiko, you're crying too."

"I’m not crying. I just have tears in my eyes."

"Kuh, you're mean."

While we both wiped what collected in the corners of our eyes, we laughed together.

It looked like nothing had changed, between us two. But obviously something had changed.

Sora's smile that I saw looked completely different than when we were childhood friends before.

"Natsuhiko. Can I sit next to you?"

Sora stood up without getting an answer, while taking care not to make the carriage shake, she sat down in the empty seat.

Then whether I liked it or not she quickly took my hand in silence, and entwined our fingers like we did in the movie theatre.

When she did that, I became dizzy from my heart beating-

"Wai, So, Sora?"

"Humph. For some reason, when we do this, it feels really nice."

Sora lay her head on my shoulder, and leaned into me. The distance between us had disappeared.

"Isn't this the way partners treat one another?"

when she said that, Sora demonstrated to the window behind us with her empty hand. Through the window, in a lower carriage, I saw a man and woman snuggling together closely. They had a really similar form to us right now.

"It pains me, but I felt like I had to use a reference."

"S, saying that is....a little embarrassing...."

"It's fine, right? I was kind of hesitant. We've become partners. So we can flirt all we like."

"Yeah...that seems right, but I could be mistaken..."

But the warmth Sora's body is giving off is certainly pleasant, I don't want to separate.

In our space, the evening sun thrust through the scratched window.

"To tell the truth, my clothes today have been kind of chilly. I thought it was necessary to endure it for the style Momiji suggested... But, doing this is making me warm."

It wasn't just the body warmth mutually given off, but surely I feel like this is warmth overflowing from inside my heart, Sora probably felt so too.

"Did we come to the amusement park so you could confess?"

"Kind of. In the first place, the date itself was so I could confess."

"Right. .....It was kind of unexpected."

"What was?"

"I thought you weren't interested in something like confessing. That or love."

"I'm not interested. I'm not now. I just, really....for some reason, if I asked if I should confess, it would be like asking for permission."

Sora spoke like she was carefully choosing her words.

"Permission? What do you mean?"

"It's simple. Permission to satisfy my desire. My desire for wanting you."

Sora, who raised her head looked at me, and expressed a smile as she spoke fascinatedly.

"Impulse. I'm a person at the limits of my patience. I can't bear wanting you."

"What do you mean, 'want'?"

"To be together with you. I want to touch your skin. I want to.... connect with you. I want to feel the existence known as Natushiko Shidou's whole body, I want to try and keep it to myself. When we moved up to high school and seemed to share more time together, that desire grew bigger in one go."

A person whose words are too direct. I felt the core of my head become numb.

It's because of what Sora said.

"But, that desire collided with you, and I didn't want to be stubborn. I didn't want to see you troubled. That’s why I confessed.  So that you would accept my desire."

I know the name of that desire.

The desire is called 'affection'. It's absolutely inside of me too.

"Do you think I'm shameful? If you think so there's nothing I can do though."

"Me too."

Sora spoke with a heartfelt expression, she stopped to look at me.

Up until now, it's only her who has been expressing her love, because I'm too pathetic.

"I also want you, Sora. I always want to be together with you. I'm not sure if I can be patient, just like you....."

"In that case.... is it ok, if I want you, Natsuhiko?"

"Yeah. If it's ok for me to want you too, Sora."

"Yeah. Of course"

She smiled while her beautiful eyes dampened, Sora leaned into me again.

"I'm happy.... Happiness. This is happiness."

She murmured as if she was reflecting, I nodded too.

Happiness, my peaceful life I completely lost 7 years ago.

Now it was so close, it had always been next to me.

Soon, the carriage we rode approached the ground.

The door opened, this happy moment seemed to end, the clerk in charged watched us.

"What a rude guy. He could have shut up and let us go around one more time."

"It can't be helped. Let’s come here again sometime."

"Yeah. Next time, let's get a ticket to go around twice in advance."

We stuck together as long as we could, and got off the carriage.

While holding hands. While cuddling close. While there was zero distance between us.

We're not just childhood friends anymore. This is the distance of partners.

 x

 After we left the memorable amusement park, we went on our way home.

We coincided with the home-time rush, Kitaharagawa station platform was overflowing with people.

Since the high speed train that stops at Hachiougi in one stop was probably full, we waited on the platform for the next train, to take the slow train home.

As we did,

"....Ah"

Pushed in the crowd of people, it looked like Sora was about to slip off the platform.

In a hurry, I pulled our entangled hands.

The train passed by immediately behind Sora, who I managed to pull into me to protect her.

"Sora, are you ok?"

"Yeah, Thank you. I'm fine."

My heart rang out like an alarm bell.

"Really... I'm glad I was holding your hand."

"Yeah. Really."

What if I wasn't holding her hand. If we were still childhood friends, that would be dangerous.

We gripped each other's hands even more strongly.

    Interlude: Our Retribution Policy

 "What a nice sight."

He said while watching the TV.

Transmitted on the screen was news reporting on a fire breaking out in the city.

In one room of the burning apartment complex, they discovered the burnt corpse of an unemployed man.

That man was the offender of a series of arson incidents that disturbed society.

Then, about a week ago, the man that he demanded I “bestow a reward” upon.

"An arsonist burning to death in a fire. There's nothing more appropriate than this."

Without any especially deep emotion, he was uninterested.

The incident which should have happened naturally, happened naturally. He probably recognised that.

I stood in the corner of the living room, and simply listened to his voice.

 In order to grant his wish, I became his tool.

The one who establishes the target of retaliation, is him. The one who performs it, is me.

I say ‘perform’, but it isn’t necessary for me to do it first-hand. By manipulating the probability that fills this world, I am able to bestow a reward in the form of misfortunate accidents and events even to far, far away targets of retribution.

From the moment I decided to grant his wish, I began to understand that it was unnecessary for me to think about what kind of reward would be appropriate. An existence like me, a thing that grants peoples wishes, accommodates the wishes that I should grant.

He understood my power, but he was, nonetheless, cautious.

He first chose offenders of villainous incidents occurring in Japan as targets of retribution. That was probably in order try out my power.

For example, if it’s a case where the police cannot identify the suspect, if I learn the appearance and name of the offender, their whereabouts and the events in their past. Performing retribution, confirming what to establish retribution on, it’s not difficult.

 The appropriate reward, for the whole world.

 Unlike the creator, I am imperfect, and am not able to change the world one by one.

Nevertheless, if we do something like this we’ll get closer the world I wish for little by little, he said.

"After tomorrow, include the people close to me as retribution targets."

People close to him. Such as relatives and family?

"Not my family. They're too close. We'll go outside, give the people walking around their appropriate rewards.”

Are you planned to ascertain the efficiency of my abilities?

"Yes. ...Besides, when we go outside, wear this. That weird appearance stands out too much. Then I won't mind walking with you."

He held out the paper bag placed on the table to me.

I took it and looked inside, the uniform for girls for the school he attended was inside.

"I put a hair tie in there too. Tie up that pointlessly long hair."

He spoke tiresomely, and returned to his room.

He's a strange man, I thought again.

This isn't the first time he's given me things.

The first thing he gave me, was a place to stay. One room in the apartment his parents seemed to have bought him as a gift, in there he allocated one room to me. Originally, there were many rooms as he was living away from home, it seemed to be left over.

Now in the room that was once vacant, a simple bed and dressing table had been placed, the closet really wasn't needed when he lived alone, it was stored full of clothes for girls.

I've met many humans until now, but I haven't once been treated like this.

I'm worshipped like a God, though I'm creepy like a monster, to him it's like I'm just a person, and he treats me like I'm just a girl. Though he avoids obviously behaving like he looks down on me, he is exceedingly polite towards me.

I felt like something else was strange.

That is his personality.

I've seen him when he talks to friends over the phone. His tone and expression then truly look like a different person. He's bright, friendly, exchanging things like jokes when he talks, it doesn't bare the slightest resemblance from the usual him that I know.

Perhaps he suffers from a split personality disorder?

"That's stupid. I'm just acting."

I asked, and didn't feel any friendliness in the slightest, a cold voice answered.

"When I’m talking to inferior people, it’s better to get on their good sides rather than make enemies.  I’m putting on a personality that they prefer. It’s a little freebie for them.”

It looked like very jokey personality.

"Hmph. Usually it’s pretty jokey, but deep down it’s more serious, it makes sure people won’t tell lies. That personality’s the most popular. I can’t joke around too much, but I also can’t be too serious. But no matter what, it always holds the position of being inferior to others.”

Do people prefer others who are inferior to them?

"Naturally. People suffer from inferiority complexes. They can’t hold the feeling that people better than them enjoy being around them. Having no self-confidence is encouraging to them, because it makes them suffer.”

But, the feeling of honour exists in humans too. Would you not call honour the feeling of when people better than yourself enjoy being around you?

"What a sweet thought. Humans envy things. While you call it honour, on the flip side, jealousy lurks. Besides, since I’m the only person who realises that, that’s the biggest trouble.”

Although he asserted that, I didn't see that there was any portion of the popular student that was inferior.

I didn’t think anybody would pretend to be inferior just so they could have people that enjoy being around them.

"I don’t actually have to be inferior at everything. Inferior people don’t try and see the true nature of things, they live in a fantasy. Even interpersonal relationships are complemented with fantasies. Muttering some complaints instead of greeting them, that alone makes people relieved. Those guys are probably imperfect the same way that I am, they see the version of me that they create in their head, not the real me, and that makes them feel better.”

He spoke just like he could read other people's minds.

"Of course you think I can read them. What the masses are thinking is easier to read than children's literature, it's easy to understand. Well, to me it is."

Then why would you keep company with such inferior people?

"Well, I hate losing. It doesn’t matter how trivial it is, I always want to continue on as the winner. My abilities aren't enough, the quality and number of my friends, the value of my surroundings, and also, how many people would die for me are. I want to continue to win at all those things.”

In order to do that, you dominate in understanding people's minds?

"I enjoy winning. At least, more than losing."

Was wishing for retribution so you could win?

"I'm talking about the person sitting at the winning position. Giving people rewards, judging sin, they're both the job of a superior person. Rating everyone's actions and thoughts and bestowing an appropriate price on those... don’t you think that's the appropriate privilege for the person who sits at the top?"

I didn't answer his question.

To him it also probably wasn't necessary that I replied.

Me, who was not a person, had to admire his way of thinking, I didn’t think to criticise him.

I simply became a tool to him, who wished strongly, just to accomplish my goal.

I am a thing that grants people's wishes.

A thing, simply just for that.

Chapter 3 --->

[easyfoodnetwork]

Frozen Is Fine

Photo-illustration: Eater

Since the pandemic, more people are cooking at home; many more people are tired, desperate, or sick of it. Enter frozen meals.

Over the past couple months, I’ve done all sorts of things in the kitchen. Rolled out and folded up light and springy milk bread. Peeled and cored pears before preserving them in sugar syrup. Pureed celeriac in a food mill, made apple sauce in an Instant Pot, endlessly whisked stock and roux into gravy. Taken the Amy’s mac n’ cheese out of the freezer, cut a slit in the plastic wrap, and microwaved it for three minutes. If I’m honest, I’ve done that last one the most.

Seven months into lockdown, my culinary ambition isn’t gone, but it’s shredded. Sometimes it’s cake from scratch; others it’s the microwave; sometimes both at once, like last Sunday, when I baked brownies but neglected to make dinner. I don’t think I’m alone in my hi-lo cooking derangement, though I do have a strange, specific excuse. Back in May, I thoughtlessly placed a burbling, superheated spoonful of bechamel sauce in my mouth to taste for salt; my mouth ejected this morsel of lava by swallowing, searing my esophagus (my doctor has almost concealed her horrified fascination with this injury). For months, I’ve been on a soft food diet to help it heal, rendering restaurant take-out more or less impossible, and requiring me to peel every vegetable and porridge every starch. When I can’t bring myself to puree another soup, there is the Amy’s mac and cheese, which me and my miserable esophagus agree is good enough.

Frozen food sales have been rising throughout the pandemic. The reasons are twofold: In the early months of lockdown, food shortages and supply chain breakdowns lead to freezer-stocking; as the crisis has worn on, the convenience of ready-to-eat meals has become increasingly appealing to those sheltering at home. Many more people are cooking more at home; many more people are tired, desperate, or sick of it. And beyond the unique, horrible crisis remaking how Americans eat at home, the slower-burning economic crisis is pushing middle class diners toward their freezers, too — frozen food booms during recessions.

Frozen food companies have spent the past few years trying to attract younger consumers with healthier or at least updated options. In 2018, the CEO of Con-Agra Foods said, “a millennial does not know what a Salisbury steak is,” so when the pandemic hit, the Adobo Chicken Power Bowls with Pepitas were waiting. Whether Power Bowls taste better than a Salisbury steak is an open question, but they fulfill the real purpose of frozen food for a new generation: an acceptable simulacrum of a meal you crave.

Unlike a lot of people in their thirties, I’ve always bought a lot of frozen food — but not for me. My girlfriend finds cooking baffling and aversive. When we got together over a decade ago, her freezer was stacked to the brim with organic-branded frozen food and her refrigerator was bare. When she did dishes, it was only forks. I now do all the cooking, and she does all the dishes; she subsists on a small, rotating set of favorite frozen dinners (currently: chicken tikka masala, fish sticks, and cheese ravioli) when I’m out of town or otherwise unable to cook us both dinner. I can’t even get her to reheat leftovers.

Until a few months ago, I basically refused to join her in eating frozen dinners. It went beyond taste or health or satisfaction. Frozen dinners felt closer to non-food than food, and sharing them together felt like a dire verdict on the state of our household, relationship, and maybe the world. Even though (or likely, because) I spent my childhood eating my own portion of Healthy Choice turkey with gravy while my mom and siblings did the same, to do so now threatened my sense of being a competent adult, one who’d taught herself to cook and cared about food for a living.

But that was before I was humbled by the bechamel. When you have to change your diet to take care of yourself, you’re forced to confront how many shoulds and arbitrary rules guide your eating. I was sure I couldn’t eat scrambled eggs without toast, sure that lettuce soup would be unbearable and cheese sticks a bore. But as it turns out, they’re fine. (Lettuce soup is delicious.) Also fine: frozen meals.

In an ideal world, there’s always time and mental energy to cook a meal; in a shitty world, cooking that meal creates a sense of accomplishment and meaning otherwise unavailable; but in all worlds, there is hunger, and a body needing to be fed. Now, on some exhausted Fridays, I microwave a perfectly fine chicken tikka masala for my girlfriend, and then a soft and comforting mac and cheese for myself, and we eat them together on the couch while playing video games, and I feel satisfied.

Photo credits: Frozen dinner, CSA Images/Getty; flowers, Fine Art Photographic/Getty

from Eater - All https://ift.tt/2TtmKuv https://ift.tt/2HDQUJc

Photo-illustration: Eater

Since the pandemic, more people are cooking at home; many more people are tired, desperate, or sick of it. Enter frozen meals.

Over the past couple months, I’ve done all sorts of things in the kitchen. Rolled out and folded up light and springy milk bread. Peeled and cored pears before preserving them in sugar syrup. Pureed celeriac in a food mill, made apple sauce in an Instant Pot, endlessly whisked stock and roux into gravy. Taken the Amy’s mac n’ cheese out of the freezer, cut a slit in the plastic wrap, and microwaved it for three minutes. If I’m honest, I’ve done that last one the most.

Seven months into lockdown, my culinary ambition isn’t gone, but it’s shredded. Sometimes it’s cake from scratch; others it’s the microwave; sometimes both at once, like last Sunday, when I baked brownies but neglected to make dinner. I don’t think I’m alone in my hi-lo cooking derangement, though I do have a strange, specific excuse. Back in May, I thoughtlessly placed a burbling, superheated spoonful of bechamel sauce in my mouth to taste for salt; my mouth ejected this morsel of lava by swallowing, searing my esophagus (my doctor has almost concealed her horrified fascination with this injury). For months, I’ve been on a soft food diet to help it heal, rendering restaurant take-out more or less impossible, and requiring me to peel every vegetable and porridge every starch. When I can’t bring myself to puree another soup, there is the Amy’s mac and cheese, which me and my miserable esophagus agree is good enough.

Frozen food sales have been rising throughout the pandemic. The reasons are twofold: In the early months of lockdown, food shortages and supply chain breakdowns lead to freezer-stocking; as the crisis has worn on, the convenience of ready-to-eat meals has become increasingly appealing to those sheltering at home. Many more people are cooking more at home; many more people are tired, desperate, or sick of it. And beyond the unique, horrible crisis remaking how Americans eat at home, the slower-burning economic crisis is pushing middle class diners toward their freezers, too — frozen food booms during recessions.

Frozen food companies have spent the past few years trying to attract younger consumers with healthier or at least updated options. In 2018, the CEO of Con-Agra Foods said, “a millennial does not know what a Salisbury steak is,” so when the pandemic hit, the Adobo Chicken Power Bowls with Pepitas were waiting. Whether Power Bowls taste better than a Salisbury steak is an open question, but they fulfill the real purpose of frozen food for a new generation: an acceptable simulacrum of a meal you crave.

Unlike a lot of people in their thirties, I’ve always bought a lot of frozen food — but not for me. My girlfriend finds cooking baffling and aversive. When we got together over a decade ago, her freezer was stacked to the brim with organic-branded frozen food and her refrigerator was bare. When she did dishes, it was only forks. I now do all the cooking, and she does all the dishes; she subsists on a small, rotating set of favorite frozen dinners (currently: chicken tikka masala, fish sticks, and cheese ravioli) when I’m out of town or otherwise unable to cook us both dinner. I can’t even get her to reheat leftovers.

Until a few months ago, I basically refused to join her in eating frozen dinners. It went beyond taste or health or satisfaction. Frozen dinners felt closer to non-food than food, and sharing them together felt like a dire verdict on the state of our household, relationship, and maybe the world. Even though (or likely, because) I spent my childhood eating my own portion of Healthy Choice turkey with gravy while my mom and siblings did the same, to do so now threatened my sense of being a competent adult, one who’d taught herself to cook and cared about food for a living.

But that was before I was humbled by the bechamel. When you have to change your diet to take care of yourself, you’re forced to confront how many shoulds and arbitrary rules guide your eating. I was sure I couldn’t eat scrambled eggs without toast, sure that lettuce soup would be unbearable and cheese sticks a bore. But as it turns out, they’re fine. (Lettuce soup is delicious.) Also fine: frozen meals.

In an ideal world, there’s always time and mental energy to cook a meal; in a shitty world, cooking that meal creates a sense of accomplishment and meaning otherwise unavailable; but in all worlds, there is hunger, and a body needing to be fed. Now, on some exhausted Fridays, I microwave a perfectly fine chicken tikka masala for my girlfriend, and then a soft and comforting mac and cheese for myself, and we eat them together on the couch while playing video games, and I feel satisfied.

Photo credits: Frozen dinner, CSA Images/Getty; flowers, Fine Art Photographic/Getty

from Eater - All https://ift.tt/2TtmKuv via Blogger https://ift.tt/35zhZVQ

[wineanddinosaur]

The Complicated Impact of Covid-19 on the Craft Beer Industry

Six months into the pandemic and two narratives continue to lead conversations surrounding alcohol sales in the U.S. The first, by all accounts, is that off-premise alcohol sales are up. Most reports suggest that larger brands are mainly benefitting from this trend while craft producers have not seen the same boost.

There’s a significant number of testimonies from market analysts supporting these narratives. But the more we scrutinize the numbers, the more it becomes apparent this is a nuanced conversation — one that’s impossible to sum up with a one-size-fits-all answer. Nowhere is this more true than in craft beer.

While craft beer has seen upticks at retail, those gains have not offset the losses from bar and restaurant closures across the industry. However, to say that the entire craft beer industry is reeling from on-premise closures is also an oversimplification. There are profits being made in beer right now, and not all of those are being banked by macro producers.

To find out exactly how Covid-19 has impacted the craft beer industry, VinePair spoke with industry analysts, producers around the country, and professionals working in sectors that support craft beer. They highlighted the factors that have hit brewers hardest during the pandemic and the business models that have been most impacted, as well as predicting what the pandemic could mean for the future of craft beer.

The Impact of On-Premise Sales Losses

While off-premise sales data seems to paint a positive picture for craft beer versus beer as a whole, industry analysts say these figures don’t tell the whole story. For the 26-week period that ended Sept. 5, beer sales rose 11.2 percent in value, while craft beer sales increased 16.3 percent, according to Nielsen data. But these increases have not canceled out the widespread losses from sales at bars and restaurants.

Prior to the pandemic, many craft brewers placed more emphasis on on-premise sales, because that channel offers greater profit margins. Bart Watson, chief economist at the Brewers Association, estimates that on-premise sales accounted for 45 percent of craft beer volume sales before Covid-19.

With lengthy on-premise closures and continued capacity restrictions, the loss (or significant reduction) of this vital revenue stream has had a notable impact. “The craft beer category is estimated to be down around 12 to 15 percent in the first half of 2020 versus the same period in 2019,” says Adam Rogers, North American research director for IWSR.

The Challenges of Pivoting to Off-Premise Sales

In order to combat on-premise losses, many brewers have turned to packaging their beer in cans and bottles, and selling to wholesalers or direct to consumers via curbside pickups. While this has presented a vital lifeline during the pandemic, packaging and indeed selling that beer has not come without its challenges.

“Even if you can bottle or can beer, you have to sell it to somebody,” the Brewers Association’s Watson says. Gaining retail placements had become increasingly hard even before the pandemic, he says, and proved to be tougher still within the more competitive Covid landscape. For those brewers who could get their beers on grocery store shelves, that still didn’t guarantee sales — especially during the early stages of the pandemic.

During the “pantry loading” months of March, April, and June, consumer purchasing habits shifted to favor macro brands and their larger packaging formats (12-packs and cases), according to analysts such as the IWSR. Brewers contacted for this piece confirmed this theory and further explained why larger packaging is not a feasible option for smaller producers.

“The problem for us as craft brewers is we’re not as poised as the larger brewers to meet that kind of demand,” says Sam Cruz, co-founder of Against The Grain Brewery in Louisville, Ky. “Another caveat of that is the price factor: Shoppers are looking for value in those larger formats; if we meet that value point, we’re going to lose margins.”

The success of pivoting to canning has also been largely dependent on a brewery’s location, according to Roger Kissling, VP of sales and customer management at Iron Heart Canning Co. Iron Heart operates in 25 states and Kissling confirms demand for his company’s services has increased during the pandemic. But not across the board. Breweries in large urban areas have found success from mobile canning because they’ve been able to take advantage of to-go sales and curbside pickup, Kissling explains. But this has not been the case in more sparsely populated rural markets.

Further complicating matters has been a high-profile aluminum can shortage. This issue existed before the pandemic, but Covid has only exacerbated the growing demand for aluminum cans, explains Jon Beam, marketing manager at can manufacturer Crown Beverage Packaging. With increased at-home consumption of beer and other canned beverages, the pandemic has driven demand for aluminum cans to an “all-time high,” he says,  creating “an unexpected surge” the industry is still working to address. Crown Beverage is among a number of packaging manufacturers now working on plant expansions and line additions to meet the continued demand for aluminum cans.

Self-Distribution Proves to Be a Lifeline

By all accounts, having solid relationships with distributors has been a key factor to surviving the pandemic for craft producers. Another approach that has proven particularly successful during this period has been the flexibility and control offered by self-distribution, as illustrated by the Massachusetts-based Night Shift Brewing and New York’s Other Half Brewing.

Michael Oxton, co-founder of Night Shift Brewing, predicts revenues for his business will be up this year, though overall profits will likely be down compared to 2019. Night Shift has an annual output of around 40,000 barrels, most of which is sold through wholesale channels. Night Shift also operates a separate distribution business, so it has not faced the challenge of creating new distributor relationships nor struggled to gain retail shelf space. “We will likely be down profit-wise just because our taprooms are so profitable and we are seeing a huge downturn in revenues there,” Oxton says.

Other Half Brewing is another example of a brewery that almost entirely self-distributes, though in a different model from Night Shift. Prior to the pandemic, up to 40 percent of Other Half’s production went into kegs, while the remaining 60 percent was packaged in cans and mainly sold at its breweries. “We have stopped packaging beer in draft format altogether,” co-founder Matt Monahan says. “Beforehand it was mostly cans to-go. Now, we are all cans to-go minus a couple of key retail partners.”

Confidence In the Craft Beer Market

Craft beer was already becoming an increasingly competitive space prior to the pandemic, with record numbers of producers and competition from hard seltzers and canned cocktails. Judging the exact impact of Covid-19 on the subcategory is therefore tricky. But certain data sets appear to support the notion that confidence in craft beer remains high, even now.

As of June 30, data from the Brewers Association showed there were 8,217 active craft breweries in the U.S., up from 7,480 during a comparable time frame last year. Watson puts this down to the timeframe involved in opening a brewery — it’s a process that can take years, he says.

A better indication of the current confidence in craft beer may be the number of brewery permit applications submitted to the TTB. Somewhat surprisingly, that total has also grown this year, to the tune of 219 new applications between Q2 and Q3. Given that all of these permit applications were submitted during the pandemic, as Watson pointed out in a recent tweet, this could suggest many still believe they can operate new businesses profitably in craft beer. But it should also be noted this was the slowest growth for new permits in 11 quarters, according to Watson.

The Future of the Craft Beer Industry

Sources contacted for this article said they did not think the pandemic would not weaken the long-term demand for craft beer in the U.S. The overall opinion was instead that the pandemic would change the landscape of who’s meeting that demand.

“A portion of the breweries that had to close recently may have had to close in three to five years due to the increased competition, so the pandemic just condensed their timeline,” says IWSR’s Rogers.

Still, market analysts like the IWSR predict the craft beer industry will return to a “healthy” landscape within two years, and volume losses will also be regained in the coming years. But crucial to the continued health of the industry will be a diversification of revenue streams for brewers. While we shouldn’t doubt that the taproom and draft-focused business model will prevail in the future, when it comes to growing a business, increasing production size, and gaining a multi-state footprint, packaged beer and well-established wholesaler relationships will likely be key.

Within retail channels, consumers can not only expect a reduction in brands on shelves, but also a streamlining of styles. “I think this is really going to cull the selection because stores were already overwhelmed with the amount of variety on offer,” says Night Shift’s Oxton.

One pandemic trend all hope will continue is the manner in which consumers have increasingly supported local businesses. “As long as the quality is there, consumers will also be there,“ IWSR’s Rogers says.

The article The Complicated Impact of Covid-19 on the Craft Beer Industry appeared first on VinePair.

source https://vinepair.com/articles/impact-covid-19-craft-beer-industry/

[johnboothus]

The Complicated Impact of Covid-19 on the Craft Beer Industry

Six months into the pandemic and two narratives continue to lead conversations surrounding alcohol sales in the U.S. The first, by all accounts, is that off-premise alcohol sales are up. Most reports suggest that larger brands are mainly benefitting from this trend while craft producers have not seen the same boost.

There’s a significant number of testimonies from market analysts supporting these narratives. But the more we scrutinize the numbers, the more it becomes apparent this is a nuanced conversation — one that’s impossible to sum up with a one-size-fits-all answer. Nowhere is this more true than in craft beer.

While craft beer has seen upticks at retail, those gains have not offset the losses from bar and restaurant closures across the industry. However, to say that the entire craft beer industry is reeling from on-premise closures is also an oversimplification. There are profits being made in beer right now, and not all of those are being banked by macro producers.

To find out exactly how Covid-19 has impacted the craft beer industry, VinePair spoke with industry analysts, producers around the country, and professionals working in sectors that support craft beer. They highlighted the factors that have hit brewers hardest during the pandemic and the business models that have been most impacted, as well as predicting what the pandemic could mean for the future of craft beer.

The Impact of On-Premise Sales Losses

While off-premise sales data seems to paint a positive picture for craft beer versus beer as a whole, industry analysts say these figures don’t tell the whole story. For the 26-week period that ended Sept. 5, beer sales rose 11.2 percent in value, while craft beer sales increased 16.3 percent, according to Nielsen data. But these increases have not canceled out the widespread losses from sales at bars and restaurants.

Prior to the pandemic, many craft brewers placed more emphasis on on-premise sales, because that channel offers greater profit margins. Bart Watson, chief economist at the Brewers Association, estimates that on-premise sales accounted for 45 percent of craft beer volume sales before Covid-19.

With lengthy on-premise closures and continued capacity restrictions, the loss (or significant reduction) of this vital revenue stream has had a notable impact. “The craft beer category is estimated to be down around 12 to 15 percent in the first half of 2020 versus the same period in 2019,” says Adam Rogers, North American research director for IWSR.

The Challenges of Pivoting to Off-Premise Sales

In order to combat on-premise losses, many brewers have turned to packaging their beer in cans and bottles, and selling to wholesalers or direct to consumers via curbside pickups. While this has presented a vital lifeline during the pandemic, packaging and indeed selling that beer has not come without its challenges.

“Even if you can bottle or can beer, you have to sell it to somebody,” the Brewers Association’s Watson says. Gaining retail placements had become increasingly hard even before the pandemic, he says, and proved to be tougher still within the more competitive Covid landscape. For those brewers who could get their beers on grocery store shelves, that still didn’t guarantee sales — especially during the early stages of the pandemic.

During the “pantry loading” months of March, April, and June, consumer purchasing habits shifted to favor macro brands and their larger packaging formats (12-packs and cases), according to analysts such as the IWSR. Brewers contacted for this piece confirmed this theory and further explained why larger packaging is not a feasible option for smaller producers.

“The problem for us as craft brewers is we’re not as poised as the larger brewers to meet that kind of demand,” says Sam Cruz, co-founder of Against The Grain Brewery in Louisville, Ky. “Another caveat of that is the price factor: Shoppers are looking for value in those larger formats; if we meet that value point, we’re going to lose margins.”

The success of pivoting to canning has also been largely dependent on a brewery’s location, according to Roger Kissling, VP of sales and customer management at Iron Heart Canning Co. Iron Heart operates in 25 states and Kissling confirms demand for his company’s services has increased during the pandemic. But not across the board. Breweries in large urban areas have found success from mobile canning because they’ve been able to take advantage of to-go sales and curbside pickup, Kissling explains. But this has not been the case in more sparsely populated rural markets.

Further complicating matters has been a high-profile aluminum can shortage. This issue existed before the pandemic, but Covid has only exacerbated the growing demand for aluminum cans, explains Jon Beam, marketing manager at can manufacturer Crown Beverage Packaging. With increased at-home consumption of beer and other canned beverages, the pandemic has driven demand for aluminum cans to an “all-time high,” he says,  creating “an unexpected surge” the industry is still working to address. Crown Beverage is among a number of packaging manufacturers now working on plant expansions and line additions to meet the continued demand for aluminum cans.

Self-Distribution Proves to Be a Lifeline

By all accounts, having solid relationships with distributors has been a key factor to surviving the pandemic for craft producers. Another approach that has proven particularly successful during this period has been the flexibility and control offered by self-distribution, as illustrated by the Massachusetts-based Night Shift Brewing and New York’s Other Half Brewing.

Michael Oxton, co-founder of Night Shift Brewing, predicts revenues for his business will be up this year, though overall profits will likely be down compared to 2019. Night Shift has an annual output of around 40,000 barrels, most of which is sold through wholesale channels. Night Shift also operates a separate distribution business, so it has not faced the challenge of creating new distributor relationships nor struggled to gain retail shelf space. “We will likely be down profit-wise just because our taprooms are so profitable and we are seeing a huge downturn in revenues there,” Oxton says.

Other Half Brewing is another example of a brewery that almost entirely self-distributes, though in a different model from Night Shift. Prior to the pandemic, up to 40 percent of Other Half’s production went into kegs, while the remaining 60 percent was packaged in cans and mainly sold at its breweries. “We have stopped packaging beer in draft format altogether,” co-founder Matt Monahan says. “Beforehand it was mostly cans to-go. Now, we are all cans to-go minus a couple of key retail partners.”

Confidence In the Craft Beer Market

Craft beer was already becoming an increasingly competitive space prior to the pandemic, with record numbers of producers and competition from hard seltzers and canned cocktails. Judging the exact impact of Covid-19 on the subcategory is therefore tricky. But certain data sets appear to support the notion that confidence in craft beer remains high, even now.

As of June 30, data from the Brewers Association showed there were 8,217 active craft breweries in the U.S., up from 7,480 during a comparable time frame last year. Watson puts this down to the timeframe involved in opening a brewery — it’s a process that can take years, he says.

A better indication of the current confidence in craft beer may be the number of brewery permit applications submitted to the TTB. Somewhat surprisingly, that total has also grown this year, to the tune of 219 new applications between Q2 and Q3. Given that all of these permit applications were submitted during the pandemic, as Watson pointed out in a recent tweet, this could suggest many still believe they can operate new businesses profitably in craft beer. But it should also be noted this was the slowest growth for new permits in 11 quarters, according to Watson.

The Future of the Craft Beer Industry

Sources contacted for this article said they did not think the pandemic would not weaken the long-term demand for craft beer in the U.S. The overall opinion was instead that the pandemic would change the landscape of who’s meeting that demand.

“A portion of the breweries that had to close recently may have had to close in three to five years due to the increased competition, so the pandemic just condensed their timeline,” says IWSR’s Rogers.

Still, market analysts like the IWSR predict the craft beer industry will return to a “healthy” landscape within two years, and volume losses will also be regained in the coming years. But crucial to the continued health of the industry will be a diversification of revenue streams for brewers. While we shouldn’t doubt that the taproom and draft-focused business model will prevail in the future, when it comes to growing a business, increasing production size, and gaining a multi-state footprint, packaged beer and well-established wholesaler relationships will likely be key.

Within retail channels, consumers can not only expect a reduction in brands on shelves, but also a streamlining of styles. “I think this is really going to cull the selection because stores were already overwhelmed with the amount of variety on offer,” says Night Shift’s Oxton.

One pandemic trend all hope will continue is the manner in which consumers have increasingly supported local businesses. “As long as the quality is there, consumers will also be there,“ IWSR’s Rogers says.

The article The Complicated Impact of Covid-19 on the Craft Beer Industry appeared first on VinePair.

Via https://vinepair.com/articles/impact-covid-19-craft-beer-industry/

source https://vinology1.weebly.com/blog/the-complicated-impact-of-covid-19-on-the-craft-beer-industry

[placementbranding]

Week 3

Figure One At the Beginning of this week everything had changed, during the weekend government had imposed a lock-down for all citizen above age 65 and all schools and universities to be closed till further notice, anyone with hart or respiratory problems was ordered to stay home, Cinemas, shopping centres, restaurants, gyms, coffee shops, all retail shops also were ordered to remain close, super markets only to open certain hours of the day, all other bushiness can operate however certain social distancing rules must be followed at work.  My supervisor contacted me during the weekend and informed me that he has arranged for me and other employee to be collected and dropped of from work.

When I got to work on Monday morning, we were informed The factory bosses had a meeting and decide all staff members had to be tested for covid-19 and all were given two days off from work. I was asked to work from home for the next two days and  prepare certain posters as they are required by law, poster must inform employees of the following

Wear masks at all time

How to wash their hands

Distance they must keep from one another

My supervisor did help me with the interpretation in Turkish as posters must in Turkish. He also pass on a set email to me with list of clients and asked me to Emil them (same email), as all appointments would be cancelled till further notice. I was then to continue with the website design.

In order to make the posters, I used Illustration and Indesign,  and used the text that my superior provided. When I started working here there was no health and safety in place for employs, However due ti outbreak of the virus all business were order to develop  health and safety posters.

Likely during our last term, Becky had though us illustration which i used to make these posters 

Poster one Wear a mask at all time:  Her zaman maske tak

Figure Two

Poster two: Wash Your Hands:  Ellerinizi yıkayın

Figure Three 

Poster Three: Practice social distancing:   Sosyal mesafe 

Figure Four:

Once my supervise was happy with the posters, we printed them and put them on the workshop floor.

Figure Five: 

Once i had sent all the emails,and was done with the posters, i went back on to continue with the design and looking into more online fashion brand.

Another brand that I looked into was Australian Formal & Evening Wear Alamour the label.

Alamour the label

Established in 2014

Formal & Evening Wear

Wholesale and retail

Online fashion brand

Online Store

Allow Pre-Order

Figure Six: 

Figure Seven:

A feature of website that stand out for me was a little popup on the side of the page that informed shoppers that a certain gown was bought from a certain location. 

Figure eight

Categories and subcategories are clear and are easy to filter for buyers, the website also have automatic regional currency exchange rate.

Figure Nine

Figure ten:  On the product Page, Compete details om different angles are item including photos from each available.

Figure eleven

Shoppers are able to contact costumer service Via email, Phone, Online chat and whats app. Alamour Uses Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, Snap chat, Youtube  and Instagram, they have 326k followers On Instagram and use professional editorial shoot as form of advertising and profession. They do not use costumer images or re-posts.

Covid-19 results

Fortunately all results came back negative for everyone, however we were informed the working conditions  and production lines would be changing. we will be informed of these changes in later days.

workshop:

This week I spend full day Friday on the workshop floor and Aysha a fashion student from Istanbul has given me a brief introduction on industrial sewing machine and their use. I found out as well as 118 sewing machine in the work ship, the have 32 other ones in the warehouse. Sewing machines are arranged according to types in the raw, they mainly Juki and brother brand, However there few sewing machines from are other brands as well, according to Aysha the most reliable brand of sewing machine is brother ans Juki.

Figure Twelve 

Figure Table:

Figure one:  2020. Covid-19 Crises. [image] Available at: <https://thebulwark.com/the-coronavirus-crisis-is-an-opportunity/> [Accessed 16 March 2020].

Figure two:  Tahani, P. (2020). Poster One [In possession of the author]   

Figure Three:  Poster Two [In possession of the author] 

Figure Four:  Poster Three [In possession of the author] 

Figure Five:  Poster Three [In possession of the author] 

Figure Six:  2020. Landing Page. [image] Available at: <https://www.alamourthelabel.com> [Accessed 19 March 2020]. 

Figure Seven: 2020. Banners. [image] Available at: <https://www.alamourthelabel.com> [Accessed 19 March 2020]. 

Figure Eight: 2020. Categories ans dub catagories. [image] Available at: <https://www.alamourthelabel.com> [Accessed 19 March 2020].

Figure Nine: 2020. Shop All. [image] Available at: <https://www.alamourthelabel.com/collections/all-products> [Accessed 19 March 2020]. 

Figure Ten: 2020. Parnella. [image] Available at: <https://www.alamourthelabel.com/products/parnella-gown-wine-red> [Accessed 19 March 2020].

Figure Eleven: 2020. Contact. [image] Available at: <https://www.alamourthelabel.com/products/parnella-gown-wine-red> [Accessed 19 March 2020].

Figure twelve:  Aysha [In possession of the author]

[acehotel]

INTERVIEW: JUSTIN STRAUSS WITH MICHEL GAUBERT

Paris, France

Michel Gaubert, legendary French sound illustrator, is the go-to sonic maven for fashion designers from Raf Simons to Karl Lagerfeld, Loewe to Rodarte. Music obsessed his whole life, Gaubert’s record collection is a behemoth, physical history of his tastes, as is his Instagram account, widely noted for its originality and idiosyncratic visual vocabulary. For this episode of Just/Talk, Ace friend, DJ and music producer Justin Strauss caught up with Gaubert at his home in Paris to talk about the downfall of Champs Discques, if Paris or New York has better nightclubs and what it’s like to soundtrack a Chanel show. 

Justin Strauss: For me, fashion and music have always gone hand in hand. When I was a kid, I saw The Beatles and that changed my life musically. Seeing the way they looked, how they dressed played a huge part. What was your inspiration? When did your love affair with music and fashion start?

Michel Gaubert: It started at a very early age because my mother was very much into fashion. She had a bookstore, and we would get all the magazines at home, and I was watching those TV programs, and I liked the whole thing — just like you.

I thought there was more to music, more to music than just the actual music. There was also the lifestyle — I mean I don’t like that word, “lifestyle,” but they dressed to represent themselves because I think representation is also a part of it, part of the music, like the artwork on records. I was conscious of that. I think the biggest revelation for me was David Bowie and Roxy Music because they were performers. And then Patti Smith came along with a whole different thing where style meant something. 

JS: So was it David Bowie for you, your inspiration?

MG: Yeah, there was so much about him. I listened to the record Hunky Dory, the back cover with him wearing the large pants and the whole thing… Oh my God it was interesting. Ziggy Stardust came up and I was like “wow.” I loved everything about it, the melody, the lyrics, the aesthetic; it was good.

JS: I was lucky enough to see that show.

MG: Oh you were?

JS: Yeah, like you seeing David Bowie, I had already been into The Beatles and the whole British thing from a very young age, and then as a teenager, I was in this band Milk n’ Cookies — and you know, we just loved everything English; and then David Bowie and the whole glam scene came along and it was everything.

MG: And for me, Roxy Music is the same thing. The first three or four years of Roxy Music was absolutely unbelievable. I saw David Bowie when Station to Station came out and for Let’s Dance. With Roxy Music, I saw them quite early on 1976 in Paris when Bryan Ferry was dressed in military, a black tie tucked in and the whole thing. I liked him when he was with Jerry Hall…

JS: The bass player of Milk n’ Cookies played with Roxy Music on tour before he joined the band. David Bowie, Roxy Music and Sparks for me were the biggest. And our band was discovered by Sparks’ managers so we kind of got to be really involved with that.

MG: I loved the guy who did the Sparks album covers Kimono My House and Propaganda.

JS: That guy, Nick Deville, also art directed all the great Roxy Music album covers and did the Milk n’ Cookies album cover as well. They used a few different photographers but he was the art director.

MG: For Roxy Music it was Karl Stoecker.

And it’s funny because at Raf Simons’ show last February, we started the show with that song from Roxy Music, “In Every Dream Home a Heartache.” Because the collection was very black satin, jewelry, colors, all that kind of stuff.

JS: Well, the cover “For Your Pleasure” with Amanda Lear and walking the black cheetah was so striking, and such an important part of the album experience — how sad that is so missing from today’s music scene, the artwork.

MG: It is. I mean I hate cds.

JS: It’s beyond cds now, it’s just something in the air.

MG: I do like to use them, of course, and also digital files. But I still like vinyl, cause when you get a vinyl it’s the whole thing. It’s fantastic to look at. And cds, they never come close with artwork.

JS: So you’re into David Bowie, you’re into Roxy Music, and how did you start working in music as a living?

MG: Well, after spending time in London, I then went for one year to America as an exchange student.

JS: Where? New York?

MG: No, no, no. I went to California. I was sent to California but I was still in school. When I came back to Paris, I didn’t do much for a couple of years and then I started to work in a record store, Champs Discques. And from then I made quite a few friends and people liked what I had to offer. In those days, the record store was much more than it is now, the ones that are left.

JS: You were a curator to your customers. They trusted you and your taste. And the records you would recommend to them.

MG: Yes, exactly.

JS: It was a great record store.

MG: It was fun, I mean I got to know all the DJs in Paris, lots of people came to that store. It was more than a record store, it was an “in” place to go. From working there I got asked to work at Le Palace.

JS: Had you DJ’d before that?

MG: No, no. I did it because they had the main room and then downstairs a roller disco, and I was convinced it was the right thing to do. So they asked me for a different style of music and I just did it. So, of course, there was lots of fashion there at Le Palace.

JS: Le Palace I always related to Studio 54 in New York.

MG: I think it was better. It was that kind of a place where I think it was more cultural than Studio 54. I think it was more refined. Studio 54 was this amazing place when you walked in but then… I thought the balance was bad.

JS: And musically, what were you playing?

MG: Everything. I was playing Rick James, X-Ray Spex, Devo, Talking Heads.

JS: So it was very much like the Mudd Club in New York.

MG: Yes, it was more like that.

JS: But in a fancier place.

MG: Yes, see that’s what I liked about Le Palace. Okay, you’ve got a mixture of the Mudd Club and then Studio 54. Studio 54 is all about the glossy and Le Palace had the mixture of both — it could be dirty also, which I liked — and why I think it’s better.

JS: I never DJ’d before the Mudd Club either and I just played what I liked. I didn’t know how to mix records.

MG: Boom, boom, boom, like that. It was just to make sure you caught the end of the record before the next one. They would  play weird stuff like Eddie Harris. It was super.

JS: Anything goes.

MG: Everything goes, it was diverse, but I was not playing the Bee Gees. I was not playing that kind of stuff.

JS: Did they play that in the main room?

MG: Upstairs, yes, yes. I mean there was some cool disco stuff but I was more of the alternative thing. And I liked all the new wave, all that kind of stuff, new wave. Gary Numan, B52s…

JS: I guess it’s very similar to what was going on in New York at the Mudd Club, Danceteria, and the Ritz. The Ritz kind of reminded me of Le Palace because the Ritz was an old, beautiful place, kind of like Le Palace, and everyone played there from Human League to Kraftwerk. Back then, I was DJing there at least three times a week. It was crazy, when you think about all the music that came from around that period from so many different places. From punk to funk, to early hip hop, to disco. It was insane.

MG: Yeah, it was a truly crazy era. I don’t want to sound like an old person but it was truly like a beginning of things. I saw a Kraftwerk show in Paris, and they had all those robots on stage and things like that.

JS: Do you mean when Computer World came out?

MG: Probably, yeah.

JS: Because that’s when they played in New York, at The Ritz.

MG: And then I went to New York to the Paradise Garage and they were playing Numbers and all those kids were dancing to Numbers. I said, what?! I like the cross-cultural thing.

JS: I mean that’s funny how our stories are very similar because Afrika Bambaataa used to hang out at the Mudd Club. We became friends and then when I started to work at the Ritz, Kraftwerk were playing and I invited him to the show and that just blew his mind. It was just such a great thing how all the kids who loved hip hop really embraced Kraftwerk.

MG: Of course. A couple of years ago they were sampling New Wave records a lot, all those kids.

JS: Then there was a scene in Paris, I think around the same time, like Z records.

MG: Celluloid Records too.

JS: Yeah, Celluloid Records were filtering into New York and we played all those records at the Mudd Club and Danceteria, they were huge.

MG: Yes, Fab Five Freddy “Change The Beat.” There was good stuff at the time. The thing is, the music in France is different from America. It was more open. I mean America had amazing music, but in Europe there are smaller countries so we were more aware of what was going on around us like what was happening in Germany, Italy and Holland. Plus, in France we were a bit like, deprived musically since we had limited radio and television stations. 

JS: You had access to a lot of music, we didn’t have that.

MG: And in America music was either American or British. The rest was more —

JS: We would have to look harder to get it as a DJ. There were little stores like 99 Records or whatever that would bring in the crazy stuff so yeah, we would find it, but it was harder. So how long did you DJ for at Le Palace?

MG: I DJ’d for Le Palace for about 3 years and then I couldn’t deal with it anymore. I was, at the same time, still working at Champs Discques and I was working at Le Palace twice a week. But then that would fuck me over for the week. At the same time I had some friends who were asking me to do music for a fashion show, and I said, “Okay, sure I’ll do it.”

JS: What was the first one you did?

MG: It was a friend of mine, the brand was called Vestiaire. It means “wardrobe,” basically. It was a men’s show in a restaurant. And then some people asked me to do another one, and another one, and then I started to do a bit more and then I got fired from the record store.

JS: Why?

MG: Well the record store was not doing so good anymore because Virgin came next to it and the owner, unlike us, rather than highlighting all the strong points of Champs Discques, he went to compete with them. Like slashing prices, all that kind of stuff. It was the wrong move, it was more an ego trip, but you know.

So I wasn’t there enough probably so he fired me. So I was like “Oh my God!” That’s okay, maybe it’s the kick in the ass I need.

JS: Sometimes those things are the best things that could happen to you.

MG: Yeah, and after I was fired I was like “Shit, I wish he would have fired me earlier.”

JS: I did the same thing, I got asked by Stephen Sprouse to do the music for his first big show which was at the Ritz, and we opened with “Search and Destroy” by Iggy and the Stooges and it was just like the most amazing thing. I’ve done a bunch, but I got into the remixing thing and that took up all my time so I couldn’t really do it so much.

MG: It’s fun, plus it’s good when you find an alter ego to work with. You know when there is a feeling of trust between the designer and you, both ways, when they trust you because they know when you say something, when you propose it, it means something, and also when you trust them. Then you know you can play for them whatever you think is right, and you feel comfortable in that.

JS: Was there one show that kind of set your career off that was like magic?

MG: Yeah, I think it was the show for Karl Lagerfeld. That one was planned before I left the record store — I knew him from the record store, he was a steady customer. He said “Would you like to do music for my show.” I said “Sure, why not, of course.”

JS: It was huge show obviously.

MG: Yeah, it was a big one and the music was inspired by Malcolm Mclaren’s “House of Blue Danube” and all that kind of stuff. It made my career. I mixed Soul II Soul with Strauss and De La Soul, with opera dialogues, that kind of stuff. It was great.

JS: And were you mixing it live with records back then?

MG: No, no —

JS: You recorded it?

MG: I worked with Dimitri from Paris for the first three years. It was all done reel to reel.

JS: Tape edits?

MG: Yes. It was done like that. I was not able to do it, but he had wonderful fingers and ears.

JS: So now these days when you hear about music and fashion, if there’s some amazing fashion show, it’s probably you doing the music.

MG: There are other people…

JS: Yeah, but you have been super successful at it. Is this still exciting for you?

MG: Yeah, of course. Like I said, when there is this idea of collaborating with someone, it’s exciting. When you know it can push things, like the Chanel show for example, they are big productions. For me, it’s cool, it’s the spectacle. It’s like soundtracking a movie or something that makes it feel different. And then there are people who I like to work with because you know that they have a sense of fashion which is unique and I learn things from them and they learn things from me. So that’s the best part.

JS: Yeah, when those worlds collide and inspire each other. That’s one thing which I always miss about New York and the 80s, when you had Jean-Michel Basquiat, Keith Haring, Andy Warhol, all these artists coming to the clubs, being part of the whole scene. Everyone was intermixing and everybody was inspiring everyone else and that’s a great thing.

MG: It’s more complicated now. They have still this kind of thing. I don’t know if it was in New York, but in Paris we had places you could go to every night and see the same crowd. Now there’s not a club like that. There’s places people will migrate from one place to the other depending on what goes on, so it’s a bit different. I like the idea of having one place to go every night, the same place. You know you don’t have to worry about anybody. And you can say "Hi, how are you? See you tomorrow.” Cause then you would dress up, dress up for the other kids and for yourself.

JS: It was like the first time I went to the Backroom at Max’s Kansas City. Everybody knew each other, everyone was like “Oh who’s this new kid?” Any of those clubs like Area, Mudd Club, everyone knew each other.

MG: That’s cool, that’s cool. Everyone knows each other when I go to a fashion party or something, so it’s part work and part fun.

JS: So when you work with a designer now, do they come to you for ideas and inspiration as well? Is it mutual?

MG: Both, both. There are several ways to look at it. Either I come up with stuff or an idea and some say, “Listen, hey there is this track I like. What do you think?” I say what I think.

JS: You do multiple shows every season. Is that something that’s difficult?

MG: Yes and no. I mean, the shows are now ten minutes long. When I started they were like 35 or 40 minutes, which was super hard to do to keep people’s attention span for 45 minutes. But then, the usual was 45 minutes. Now it’s ten minutes and everyone has a very specific image.

JS: Do you ever find they musically crossover?

MG: Not, not really. 

JS: That’s good. Because sometimes there is a theme running through the season and a lot of the designers kind of —

MG: Of course sometimes there is a new big album they all are tempted to use, but I think it’s because of that and also because music is easy to get and not so easy to get. When you are not into music it’s pretty difficult to know what’s going on. People want to make it more individual. If you have a good new record at the right time, then it works. Let’s say I got a record and I know I have a show in three days, then it’s perfectly fine. But if it’s been around for a month, you don’t need it. It’s all a question of timing.

JS:  How do you feel about the way music is heard now and how many people don’t buy music? I mean it’s never going back to what it was.

MG: No, I don’t know if it’s good culturally but that’s one thing. Because, at least, like a lot of music I know from the past I grew up with or listened to when it came out. You relate to what’s around you and what it means at the time. There was always a significant connection to be made somewhere with the music. These days, people listen to music all across the board regardless if it’s new, old, whatever. Sometimes a lot of people don’t know how to focus.

JS: There’s no connection like there used to be. It’s very disposable, I find, and people’s attention spans are shorter because of the internet and everything is quick, quick, quick, they don’t take the time to let it really sink in.

MG: But I do the same thing too, sometimes, because there is stuff I want to listen to. I just do something else and put the record on and listen to it at the same time.

JS: Where do you find your music these days?

MG: Everywhere. Everywhere.

JS: Do you still go record shopping?

MG: Not really. Do you?

JS: I mean I try to. But there’s so much new music that doesn’t get released on vinyl so it’s nice to get the record if you love it.

MG: When I like a record and it’s worth it, I get it. The last one I went to was in January and I went to work in London. I bought some stuff because it’s there in front of you. You know, “I don’t have this” or “I don’t have that�� and you just get it. As a matter of fact, I think it’s harder to buy them like that because you don’t see as much.

JS: When I DJ, I bring a small bag of vinyl. It’s still great to play, but a USB stick is life-changing. So many great things have come along with the technology and so many not so great things too.

MG: I think it’s great and I think there are bad things too. I think society is too dependent on the machines and a lot of the things that go wrong are also because of the machines. People don’t know what to do if they don’t have their machine. So basically, and me included, it can’t be just that and no USB stick.

JS: That’s pretty standard. It’s become the standard and not the turntable. When it was changing over and you saw these DJs come in and set up their laptop, wires, pulling out everything and then two minutes later the computer would crash, and there would be nothing. Then they would be like “Can you put on a record?” Because the record always works. People have become too  dependent on the internet.

MG: Everything, people’s minds, fake news. It’s crazy, it’s very, very crazy.

JS: What did you do when you came to New York? What was happening and did you go to the clubs?

MG: Of course. I have a good friend who we stayed with for three weeks. Florent from the restaurant, Florent. And he lived on Lafayette and Spring. So we got there, and there were like three bullet holes in the glass and maybe 25 more on the sidewalk, and we were just like “oh my God.” We went through the East Village and were like, “Where am I?” So the first night we decided to go out because a friend of his was like “Oh my God there is a Dolly Parton birthday party at Studio 54, you want to come?” And of course, I wanted to come. So we go and we took a taxi and the taxi cab driver was like “Are you going to 54? What do you want, quaaludes?” And we went to Studio 54.

JS: When did you go to the Paradise Garage?

MG: That was later. I went in 81. So I went to Studio 54, the Mudd Club was also 81.

JS: When you walked into Paradise Garage was it like anything you had ever experienced?

MG: I remember going up a ramp with candles or lights on the ground, going up that way and then turning a right like this, and then I remember hearing Numbers by Kraftwerk and that completely blew my mind.

I went to the Mudd Club when it was New Romantics time period. They were playing Soft Cell "Tainted Love” like ten times in a row.

JS: I worked there then. Started there in late 79 and played there until the late 1980. I went to the Blitz Club once which was pretty crazy.

MG: In England?

JS: Yes with Steve Strange.

MG: I didn’t go there. I never went clubbing in London really. But in New York, yes, and I went to Pyramid. I went to all the gay clubs. I went to the 12 West.

JS: Yeah the gay clubs were the most forward thinking. Back then The Garage, 12 West, Infinity, all those clubs were known for breaking new music and that’s where you heard all the best new records. Then that sort of went away.

MG: I see it the way it was at Champs Discques. I mean the store was super successful because in France we didn’t have many radio stations that would play that kind of stuff, and there was no way to get music. So we were playing really loud, all day long, the things we liked about every 10 to 15 minutes and people were grateful. They’re like “Oh my God, that’s so cool.”

JS: It was the only way to hear new music. Especially club music.

MG: Exactly, and even in the clubs there was a bit more freedom. Not freedom, but I could play a lot of things whenever I wanted because people were interested in discovering stuff, you know what I mean? Now people want to hear what they know or relate to. People don’t understand. They think a DJ should play whatever.

JS: “What do you mean you don’t have it?” And they hand you their phone. For me and for you I’m sure was the same. A great DJ was someone who would turn you on to new music. I didn’t want to hear only things I knew.

MG: Exactly, me too. I like to discover new stuff and older music I don’t know. There’s so much music. There’s new music, in-between music you forgot about in the past, you know or you forgot about, it’s like a full time job.

JS: Do you ever get involved in actually creating music for shows?

MG: Yeah. But I don’t create it myself. I work with people. I had a good experience with the Chromatics. That was really good and Johnny was super involved in it, that was really good.

JS: Have you ever been involved in mixing records or re-mixing?

MG: No, never.

JS: Produced your own tracks?

MG: No, I really don’t have the time. Plus, I think I would be too demanding, you know what I mean? Never happy with the result or whatever. I can be very demanding.

JS: You basically go from one season and start working on the next… How many shows do you do a year?

MG: Probably 100.

JS: Do you work with New York designers?

MG: Yes, of course. New York, also French designers, we work with Calvin Klein, Proenza Schouler, Rodarte, Michael Kors.

JS: What do you think about brands like, say Kenzo, or so many brands where the original designer is not involved anymore and they bring in new people to re-brand it? You’ve been around to know the original designers.

MG: Yeah, well I think some people do a good job. I mean I like what they do at Kenzo. I like their point of view, I like what they do with music.

JS: They use a lot of original music as well.

MG: Yeah, yeah which I think “why not?” They can use the music on the videos… I like the movies they make for perfume. They have a good thing going on.

JS: You’re very active on Instagram. Was Facebook ever a thing for you?

MG: Yeah. I started doing it on Facebook, but then I find the process on Instagram to be more direct, quicker, easier, and has a wider reach. I think it’s more fun.

JS: It’s one of the best things about what’s going on with the Internet. Communicating with people through images.

MG: Yeah. It’s fun because it’s like a jigsaw puzzle and then sometimes I’m like, “My God this picture, I’m sure I’m going to get this many likes” and it’s like a game. Like, okay I won again.

JS: Do you get disappointed when you get something that you think people are really going to get and then they don’t?

MG: No I don’t. I don’t know when the best time is to post. I don’t know any of that kind of stuff, I’m a very instinctive person.

JS: I see you posting stuff in the middle of the night and then early in the morning.

MG: Yeah, sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night for like half an hour and post.

JS: And do you just have a collection of images?

MG: Yeah, I collect them. I do collect and then there are some I research. Music, fashion, architecture, and all of the stuff I like. And of course the way it is when you find something, it leads you to something else, and something else, and something else, and that’s the way it works.

JS: And do you do your own images as well?

MG: Not really. Yeah sometimes I take pictures, otherwise, I don’t create anything especially for that. It’s found. It’s pictures I take, or it’s clippings from magazines, or it’s pictures from a book. This week I’m going to scan a few pictures from books I have, because I know you won’t be able to get them anywhere. So I like to share that too.

JS: You’ve got a nice following. People seem to love what you do and really react to it.

MG: I guess now I have quite a few, and with it comes the other side, I have a few haters.

JS: If you don’t have some haters, you’re not doing something right.

MG: That’s right! That’s what I thought as well.

[mastcomm]

The Chaos at Condé Nast

It’s a high-class but increasingly common problem: being a former magazine editor in a digitized world that cares little about whose name used to be on top of a defunct masthead. (A masthead, for those unfamiliar with the term, lists in careful hierarchy the top staff of a publication and is most often printed on paper — which tells you pretty much all you need to know.)

At 48, Dan Peres is already an old hand at being a former magazine editor. Condé Nast shut down Details, the men’s glossy that he had been editor of for 15 years, in 2015. Overnight Mr. Peres went from two decades spent as a coveted presence at fashion shows and parties in the world’s capitals to a divorced dad adrift in the ’burbs.

He tried to pivot to digital publications, but quickly learned there is little job security in start-ups. He took on some consulting gigs. He was also jotting down stories from his past life, one not many people knew about.

“I started to have some conversations about next steps career-wise, and during that time I started writing,” Mr. Peres said last week, sitting in his home office in Irvington, N.Y., at a wooden drafting desk that he had lugged from Paris. “There were experiences I wanted to get down on paper. I wanted to keep my mind sharp.”

The result is a memoir, “As Needed for Pain,” which was published this week by Harper, an imprint of HarperCollins.

In the book, Mr. Peres reveals an opioid addiction that he tried for years to hide, and which, until he got clean in 2007, had him taking as many as 60 Vicodin pills a day. Among many anecdotes that illustrate his wincing desperation, he tells of gobbling up pills that had fallen onto the floor beneath a urinal at a black-tie event in 2003. “Does the five-second rule count for piss-soaked drugs?” Mr. Peres writes. “I’d like to say I hesitated.”

“You can’t fault his honesty, although you’ve got to wonder about the judgment of his bosses,” Jay McInerney wrote in a review for The New York Times. And indeed, “As Needed for Pain” is an eye-opening document of how Mr. Peres for seven years spent his working hours and many of his company’s dollars in pursuit of getting high.

Since 2009, Condé Nast has gone from publishing 22 magazine brands (including one digital-only publication) to 16 magazine brands (six of which are digital only). In 2017, the company had about $120 million in losses.

Mr. Peres’s reign seems to have epitomized the bloated pride before the fall. Founded by Annie Flanders as a scrappy downtown magazine in 1982, Details had gone through several iterations before being taken over by Fairchild, which was ultimately moved under the Condé Nast umbrella. With Mr. Peres as editor, the magazine was retooled as a manual for a metrosexual clinging to a certain frat boy quality, lest you call him gay.

Details had for a time what Tina Brown always used to call “buzz,” with cover models like Robert Downey Jr., Kevin Federline (twice!) and Ben Affleck. It was not so filled with ads that it was a doorstop, like the flagship magazines Vogue and Vanity Fair, but it was still robust.

Freelance journalists wanted to contribute to Details (I was one, reporting a profile of Patrick Kennedy for it in 2001), and the magazine won awards for its design.

Condé Nast, which also then regularly published the magazines Gourmet, Jane, Lucky and Domino, had become famous through shows like HBO’s “Sex and the City.” The company was known for around-the-block Town Cars filled with enigmatic editors who lunched at New York restaurants like the Four Seasons and enjoyed clothing expense accounts and interest-free mortgages provided by their employer.

After being summoned at 28 from the Paris where he had worked as a writer and editor for W magazine and given the top job at Details, Mr. Peres lived subsidized for months in the Morgans Hotel. Once, he trashed his room because he couldn’t find his Vicodin; he blamed the housekeeper for stealing his drugs.

The hotel staff “called me Mr. Peres,” he writes. “I liked it. I never once told them to call me Dan.”

Those Were the Days

Editors of glossy magazines had status then because their products seemed important. People went to newsstands or physical mailboxes to find bound pieces of paper dropped by postal workers that would tell them who and what was cool, giving them topics for cocktail-party and water-cooler chatter.

Portable phones were these whiz-bang things that folded shut and were tucked away in pockets and expensive “It” bags.

The early and mid-aughts were the Roaring ’20s of magazines, with the looming economic recession not yet imaginable and the disruption of digital media not considered by publishing executives, so infatuated with their pretty print pages and the huge margins that print advertising delivered. No matter that their one real job was to have their fingers on the pulse of What’s Next.

“Those that are the oracle never think they’re one day not going to be the oracle any longer,” said Ariel Foxman, who helped create Cargo magazine in 2003 for Condé Nast, which closed it in 2006.

Mr. Foxman went on to become editor in chief of InStyle, where he remained until 2016. He is currently trying to sell a memoir called “The Magnificent Dissolve,” which looks at how magazines “led the conversation and then found themselves in the course of a few years chasing the conversation and trying to stay relevant.”

If published, it will join a subgenre of memoirs by onetime Condé Nast editors that includes Ms. Brown’s “The Vanity Fair Dairies”; “Save Me the Plums,” by Ruth Reichl, the former New York Times restaurant critic who went on to become Gourmet’s editor until Condé Nast shuttered it in 2009; and “More Than Enough,” by Elaine Welteroth, late of Teen Vogue.

“What a blast to be a part of something at its peak that now can be seen as a golden age,” said another memoirist, Dana Brown. Mr. Brown was a bartender plucked for an assistant job by the former Vanity Fair editor Graydon Carter.

He rose to be one of Mr. Carter’s deputies and is now writing “Disappearing Ink,” the working title of a memoir about the experience. “It was a time that was pre-technology, it was a time that was magical,” he said. “Writers were called writers, photographers were called photographers. It was before we all became ‘content creators.’”

Kim France was the founding editor of Lucky magazine, which started in 2000 and ceased publishing in 2015. She too is writing a memoir: “This Is Not My Beautiful House,” about moving from Texas to New York and building an outwardly glamorous career while battling substance abuse and depression. (She left Condé Nast in 2010.)

Her mood swings and impetuous behavior were initially treated as a sign of her creative talent, Ms. France said. This was the Condé Nast way.

“It was a privately held company, and they could employ all these really creative, kind of crazy people,” she said. “You had André Leon Talley swanning around. There was drama all over the place. It was obviously bad that this culture existed the way it did, but it started because they valued creativity and the kind of people that were creative.” (As it happens, Mr. Talley also has a memoir set to publish, in April, called “The Chiffon Trenches.”)

It was a culture that somehow allowed Mr. Peres for seven years to live a dual life as an editor in chief responsible for the publication of a national magazine and the management of dozens of employees, and an opioid addict.

When writing the book, Mr. Peres said, it didn’t occur to him that he might be revealing a lack of corporate oversight at Condé Nast or what a white man could get away with doing (and not doing) at a company known for its lavish spending.

“I didn’t overthink it,” he said. “I always set out to write a story about myself and my addiction and how intense of a grip it had on me, and in order to illustrate that, I had to touch on a number of elements of my life, including of course my professional life. I really see Details as a character in the book.”

A spokesman for Condé Nast said, “We’re happy for Dan’s recovery and to know that he’s doing well. Since the time chronicled in Dan’s book, our company and our industry have evolved significantly, and we can’t comment on the way our company was run under prior leadership.”

Mr. Peres tells in his memoir of frequently not making it into the office; when he did, he sneaked occasional naps on his office couch during the heavy drug years. He fell asleep while interviewing a job applicant. He had an assistant plan an unnecessary trip to San Diego, where he rented a car (he doesn’t remember if he or the company paid for it), drove to Tijuana, Mexico, and bought $6,000 worth of drugs to smuggle back across the border and then to New York (in between, he appeared on “Politically Incorrect” with Bill Maher in Los Angeles).

He would find reasons to fly to Los Angeles, to meet a publicist, see his girlfriend, do drugs with a rock star, who is unnamed (“plane highs were usually the best, especially in first class,” Mr. Peres writes). That girlfriend, the actress Sarah Wynter, would become his wife and then ex-wife; they have three school-age sons.

He spent four days “in a plush terry cloth robe” at the Four Seasons in Milan without attending the fashion shows he had traveled there for because he didn’t have sufficient Vicodin to feel like himself. (He then had the front desk send a medico to his room, who wrote him a prescription.)

Mr. Peres conscripted an assistant to unwittingly create with the Condé Nast travel office a 30-day itinerary to Italy and Australia that he could show to doctors as evidence that he needed to fill prescriptions in advance.

On a work trip to Los Angeles, Mr. Peres considered trying heroin and asked his driver to take him to Skid Row, where he was chased by a stranger whom he’d asked for drugs, (“It’s not easy to run for your life in a pair of Tod’s driving moccasins,” he writes). He decided buying drugs on the street was not for him.

“I listened to Journey and practically knew the room service menu at the Ritz in Paris by heart,” he writes. “I didn’t know how to do this.”

His Town Car driver in Los Angeles, he writes, became his drug dealer.

‘We Were Running the Show’

When he was present, Mr. Peres could be mercurial, some former colleagues said. “You never knew what kind of day it would be,” said Ece Ozturk, his former assistant, who worked at Details for about six years. “Would it be a good day with the nice Dan or a bad day with the mean Dan? He could be very charming at times, but people were afraid of Dan. People walked on eggshells around him.”

One former employee who had been fired sent a letter to Mary Berner, a publishing executive overseeing the company division that included Details. The letter, which was shared with The Times, cited “Dan Peres’s conspicuously frequent absences” and his “admissions about pill-taking.”

“The atmosphere at this young men’s magazine wasn’t just freewheeling — it was unprofessional,” the fired employee wrote.

Ms. Berner, now the C.E.O. of Cumulus Media, said she had no memory of reading the letter. “I wish I had known” about Mr. Peres’s drug problem, she said, “because I would have tried to help him.”

Mr. Peres writes that his assistant was known to many at Details as “the Rescheduler.” In one seven-week period Ms. Ozturk sent at least five emails to staff canceling meetings, according to emails reviewed by The Times. (“Dan is not in this morning, but may be in this afternoon” … “Dan will be out tomorrow, returning Friday” … “Dan is out today” … “Dan will be away on business tomorrow and Thursday, returning Friday.” Or maybe not: “Dan did not make it back from L.A. so to those who were supposed to have a ‘Vitals’ meeting,” she wrote, referring to a section of the magazine, “it has been canceled.”)

In the absence of a functional editor in chief, the staff of Details worked long hours to put out a magazine. “There were a lot of people there who could pick up the baton,” said Andrew Essex, an advertising executive who served for part of Mr. Peres’s tenure as executive editor.

Over the years, Mr. Peres’s colleagues included Laura Brown, now the editor in chief of InStyle; Jessica Lustig, a deputy editor of The New York Times Magazine; Jeff Gordinier, the food and drinks editor for Esquire; and Andrea Oliveri, a founder of the events company Special Projects.

Even with such support, Details under Mr. Peres had its fair share of mess-ups that these days, under the stern gaze of social media, might have been unsurvivable. In 2007, as Mr. Peres was trying to detox at his mother’s house in Baltimore, Mr. Affleck complained that he was misquoted in a cover story.

There was a party that the magazine was hosting in Mr. Affleck’s honor, and he needed to be placated. Mr. Peres quickly apologized.

Bart Blasengame, who had written the story, conceded that had played fast and loose with Mr. Affleck’s sentences.

“He said things in fits and starts and I took quotes from different parts of the interview and made them cohesive,” said Mr. Blasengame, who now owns and runs a music club in Portland, Ore.

He said part of the fun of working for Details was the lack of oversight. “We were running the show,” he remembered of himself and his fellow writers. Then, after the publication of the Affleck story, which had been fact-checked and given the OK by Mr. Peres, his contract was terminated (though he went on to receive other assignments from Details). “Admittedly, I didn’t handle it well,” he said, “but it definitely felt like getting thrown under the bus.”

In 2002, the magazine had published an article, “Dudes Who Dish,” that carried the byline of Kurt Andersen, the author well known in media circles as a founder, with Mr. Carter and Thomas L. Phillips Jr., of Spy magazine.

The main problem with the article was that Mr. Andersen didn’t write it. He didn’t even know of its existence until his wife, Anne Kreamer, saw it while leafing through a Details at the gym and asked her husband why he hadn’t told her he was writing for that magazine.

Mr. Peres bragged about landing Mr. Andersen in the pages of Details in his editor’s letter, not having done the very editor in chief thing of reaching out personally to Mr. Andersen to thank him.

“The extra weird wrinkle,” said Mr. Andersen during a phone conversation last week, was that the magazine featured an “interview” of him among the short bios of that month’s contributors. “As well as the terrible piece attributed to me, there was an even worse, horrible, ‘Hey dude, it’s just gossip’ quote from me. It was mortifying. Not just mortifying. Grotesque.”

Mr. Andersen said of the magazine, “It was ahead of its time in terms of fake news fantasy-land alternative truth.”

One of Mr. Peres’s staffers, Bob Ickes, handled the editing of the article. (When contacted this week, Mr. Ickes said he did not write the piece published under Mr. Andersen’s name.)

“Mistakes happen at publications,” Mr. Peres said last week, while acknowledging his yearslong focus on drugs above work and all else. “Surely the magazine would not have been as good as it was if not for my staff. I know anyone who has spent any time around an addict has to spend a lot of time doing a lot of heavy lifting.”

Mr. Essex, the magazine’s former deputy, said it is not fair to portray Mr. Peres as having no involvement with the editorial product known as Details. “He could identify bizarre permutations of male behavior particularly at the epicenter of gay and straight,” Mr. Essex said.

This sort of “male anthropology,” as Mr. Essex called it, did get Mr. Peres in trouble sometimes, like when he assigned to a staffer a 2004 piece titled “Gay or Asian?” that drew protesters to picket outside of the Condé Nast headquarters. “It was a tremendous lapse of judgment,” Mr. Peres said.

But cancel culture was not yet ascendant, and he stayed atop the masthead for another 11 years.

“You know when you’re in dysfunctional family and it’s the only family you know so you think that’s how all families are?” Ms. Ozturk said of working at Details then. “It was like that.”

from WordPress https://mastcomm.com/the-chaos-at-conde-nast/

[connorrenwick]

Being Your Own Creative Boss with Desi Moore

The following post is brought to you by Squarespace. Our partners are hand picked by the Design Milk team because they represent the best in design.

Becoming an established professional in any line of work can be a long road traveled, but what if you want to really niche down? We reached out to talk to Desi Moore, aka Dude It’s Desi, about how she not only got her foot in the door of creating in the entertainment industry, but also what’s kept her there. Squarespace is the website building platform that has helped Desi out by getting her portfolio site organized in a way that represents her brand and welcomes new business with vigor, letting her quirky and fun personality and style shine through!

Back in 2003, Desi found herself in a place lots of us have been – young, undecided on a future career, and having a good time living a fun, carefree lifestyle. She had just relocated back to Los Angeles from Brooklyn and had the realization that a plan was necessary for the next steps she was hoping to take as an artist.

“I just thought artwise, without a college degree, who would hire me and for what? But I swore when I moved back to Los Angeles that I would not work another day in a restaurant, and that I had to get something legit in the entertainment biz on my resume to get some sort of foot in the door. The movie advertising agency Trailer Park hired me to be their receptionist, and I did that for about a year.”

Just before Desi planned on submitting her two weeks notice to take a position as a film director’s personal assistant, Trailer Park opened a print department specific to movie posters.

“Of course I thought that was super cool, but again why would they hire me when I had no experience. However, when the print department found out I was leaving they offered me a job. Apparently my goofy illustrated company newsletters, cut out 3D lunch menus, and all the weird arty shit I made and surrounded myself with in my reception desk area caught their eye and they saw potential in me – which to this day I am still very grateful for. So, I turned down the personal assistant job and immersed myself and became completely obsessed with learning and succeeding in being an Art Director. I worked really long hard hours and will never forget how stoked I was when I saw my first official movie poster printed.”

There’s usually that moment that stands out, the one that makes you decide to commit to what you’re doing and have a go at it with everything you’ve got in you. For Desi, it was a specific movie poster that ended up being more of a lesson than a success.

“I made a poster for Mad Max Fury Road that was super time consuming because I constructed a giant mass of people, car parts, motorcycles, smoke, destruction, skulls, etc. Each piece had to be painstakingly and intricately masked out (that is where you cut something out of its environment). So halfway through I was like ‘Oh my god this sucks, my hands and eyes are killing me, what was I thinking?!’ But I kept on going and finally finished it. The client and I both thought it turned out really cool, but in the end it didn’t end up getting used for anything, but hey that’s showbiz for ya!”

Being a creative individual in a business world can sometimes be a struggle, and you’ll often find yourself at a crossroads trying to balance both sides of a company.

Desi says, “I do find it a struggle. The business side of things: discussing money, paying bills, finding the time and energy for paperwork, etc. has always been a struggle for me. Being such a right brained individual it’s not a natural forte for me. But I absolutely love being my own boss. In my art career it offers me the freedom to work on such a variety of projects: huge movies, indie movies, album covers, gig posters, clothing brands, paintings and illustrations, whatever! So I never get bored or feel pigeonholed as an artist.”

She also owns a gallery – Showboat – in Los Angeles, an entirely different creative outlet. “As far as owning the gallery, my favorite thing is it’s like I have a big ‘ol rubber approval stamp for any idea I may have. The show concepts and artists are all decided by me. Once I even painted the whole space purple, rented a clawfoot bathtub, and exactly replicated the When Dove’s Cry video set to a tee – purple roses, smoke machine, faux doves, stained glass windows, and my friend dressed as Dr. Fink. Dan Monick beautifully lit and shot portraits of people in the bathtub all night. Carmen Electra even showed up and stole the show! Basically I spent a bunch of cash to create the raddest free Prince photobooth ever. Business-wise nobody else would have ever probably approved that idea but I did, and so it happened.”

This spring, Desi is stretching her creative legs even further and releasing a children’s book – ABCs of the 80s – in collaboration with a former coworker from her Trailer Park days.

“Erin (Campbell Dunkerley) has a young daughter and really wanted to teach her about all the cool eighties things she grew up with along with her ABCs at the same time. Being an 80’s kid myself, I was totally onboard! Erin had some letter ideas and even a few clearances already in place. She was super cool about giving me creative control of the drawings and layout of the book. We were basically on the same page as far as the letters went (although for ‘N’ I did begrudgingly draw The New Kids on The Block instead of the Nancy Reagan / Mr. T D.A.R.E program, but in return I got to do payphone over Pop Swatch so it’s all good – teamwork making the dream work!) I’m not used to working on one single project for so long and I had a hard time focusing at the start of it. So me and my little dog Crackers went up to my friend’s cabin in the mountains in California for a month last year to begin it. So very cliché I know, but it was awesome and I now get why people seclude themselves when working on a book. It hits stores everywhere March 5th and a limited advance amount are available now via http://abcsofthe80s.com!”

When it comes to choosing a favorite project Desi has worked on, I’m willing to bet you’re already familiar…

“I really love when someone says ‘just do your thing’ and I can execute my vision on a project. Being micromanaged or being used as a tool to create something I don’t believe in is never fun. As far as my favorite project to date, I would say it was working on the poster for the movie Bridesmaids. I got to see it through from start to finish, beginning with creating the concept, to art directing the photoshoot with Mark Seliger, and on to constructing the final poster. The cast were all so sweet and hilarious. We shot several setups that day and one included going to a park with Kristen Wiig, Maya Rudolph, and the rest of the girls to pose with a whole bunch of puppies, bunnies, and swans in bowties and berets. The bunnies wouldn’t stop humping and right then I knew it was career highlight for sure. In the end, we went with the original idea of making the girls look like badasses posing against a brick wall, juxtaposing the whole typical demure bridesmaids in a cupcake dress thing. The original copy line I came up with that almost made it was just simply ‘What?’. Shoutout to Damon Wolf and Maria Pekurovskaya from Universal for being a dreamteam and letting me do my thing and have fun with it!”

When it comes to searching out inspiration for her work Desi says, “I really love to travel and have my eyes opened to new customs, colors, and patterns. I travel often and try and be as porous as possible and stow it all away in my brain to subconsciously draw inspiration from when I’m just back in LA working in my studio. I like when the inspirations all get mixed up together and create a whole new vibe of their own.”

Further inspiration comes from a source that’s right at our fingertips, literally.

“On a daily basis, I would be lying if I didn’t say Instagram. There are so many amazing accounts that lead you down rabbit holes of incredible art that I would never be exposed to otherwise. I also have made friends with some wonderful and inspiring artists via Instagram and we share what we find and dig, weaving the web further. I would also be lying if I didn’t say I go into very deep Instagram meme holes on a daily basis – but hey, no shame in that game – humor is the icing on the cake of life!”

It’s clear that Desi’s outlook on the world, her eye for art, and her inherent creativity know no bounds! Squarespace has helped her corral all of the bits and pieces she excels at into one amazing site that shows all of her hard work and long hours off in a cohesive, beautiful way.

Ready to get to work on your own portfolio? Take the first step with a Squarespace website. Use coupon code DESIGNMILK at checkout to get 10% off your first purchase.

via http://design-milk.com/

from WordPress https://connorrenwickblog.wordpress.com/2019/01/28/being-your-own-creative-boss-with-desi-moore/

[inb4vaughn]

New Pinehurst No. 4 Puts Premium On Fun

You know a famous golf place is on a strong track when you just feel at home there, in a close and natural way, as if you’d lingered a few decades exploring its every mystery though, in reality, you’ve spent a few all-too-brief days enjoying a few rounds with friends old and new. With the opening of the new Pinehurst No. 4 after a year-long renovation under the direction of architect Gil Hanse and his longtime business partner and lead shaper Jim Wagner, the “Home of American Golf” mystique is magnified, deepened and elevated to a realm reserved for royalty — St. Andrews-Long Island-Monterey Peninsula royalty.

After spending a flawless fall afternoon on the new Pinehurst No. 4 — which occupies some of the sprawling Pinehurst property’s most dramatic real estate, right next to No. 2 — I couldn’t get over how much more alive entire enterprise feels compared to my previous visit nearly a decade ago, when the nation was in the throes of near-economic collapse and many destinations were struggling to find their way forward.

A few sights and feelings flowed through me:

A surge of fresh energy

The fading away of old-school stodginess in favor of golf for fun’s sake, while maintaining a clear connection to a past as rich as there is in American golf

The way young men and women are flooding Pinehurst’s tees, practice ranges, restaurants, bars and Hanse’s other two recent contributions — an absolute blast of a par-3 course dubbed The Cradle (which he called his “practice” for No. 4) and a rollicking putting course playfully named Thistle Du (as in “this’ll do!”), complete with drink holders on each tiny tee

How Pinehurst ownership and management has confidently invested in an inclusive future while playing up elements of an exclusive past. President Tom Pashley and owner Bob Dedman, Jr., did their homework on what 21st century golf travelers want, and they aced the exam

In short, I felt a fresh magic in the Sandhills. That’s not overstated, it’s just what is there, wafting among the pines, and in part we can thank a bunch of Cavemen for it.

Hole 4, the 14th green and 15th tee on the new Pinehurst No. 4

SHAPING THE FUTURE

“The Cavemen” is Hanse’s nickname for the handful of skilled sculptors and tenders of turf who turned his and Wagner’s vision for Course No. 4 into roiling, rangy, championship-caliber reality. Under the direction of Wagner and superintendent Kevin Robinson, the Cavemen transformed what had been wall-to-wall turf and trees, originally laid out by Donald Ross but tweaked over the decades by Tom Fazio and others, into a glowing necklace of swooping, heaving holes that, like Bill Coore and Ben Crenshaw’s careful reworking of Ross’s No. 2 masterpiece next door, bring the Sandhills’ original golf look back to the fore.

“The most underappreciated people in golf are the superintendents, the guys that take care of the golf courses,” Hanse said before hitting a ceremonial opening tee shot, after which I and other fortunate media got to preview No. 4 before it opened to the public the following day. “The architects get to stand up and take the bows, but those are the guys who make it work. You’ll see a golf course that doesn’t feel like it’s brand new. A lot of that was the work through construction — flipping the existing sod, leap-frogging it throughout the course so it’s mature. It was a challenge. Storms threw everything they had at us, but [the Cavemen] put the course back together. There’s a lot of exposed sand out there, a lot of slope, but what they’ve done is phenomenal.”

Their work, and Hanse’s, also stands starkly apart from Coore and Crenshaw’s in flow and feel, though at first glance they appear quite similar — tight fairways bleeding into rough-edge “blowout” bunkers and waste areas, which blend into primary rough punctuated by tufts of tall wire grass, which finally give way to the loblolly pines that have given this place its golf identity for more than a century. While the “new” No. 2, which reopened in advance of the back-to-back men’s and women’s U.S. Opens in 2014, builds its power via individual “set piece” holes, No. 4 offers more collective visual drama. Parts of 15 holes are visible from one of the course’s high points, the cliffhanging green on the par 3 sixth hole; a deep bunker separates the putting surface from the large lake that most fully illustrates how different No. 4 truly is from its famed sibling, though Hanse credits No. 2 for his chief inspiration.

“With Course 4 we tried to reconnect the landscape,” Hanse said. “When we looked across at No. 2 and what Bill and Ben were able to do, that’s what started this. Bill tells the story that prior to the start of Course No. 2’s restoration, some mythical figure popped out of the mist and said to him, ‘Don’t F this up.’ He knew how important Course No. 2 was to this community, this resort and this population. They did as good a job as anyone in the world could do. For us to walk through their work, their interpretation of what Ross did, that was really a great opportunity.

“I told my guys to look at something on Course No. 2 every day — the features, the subtleties, how the fairways bleed into the wire grass, which then bleed into the trees. With that as our template, we set about one of the bigger earth-moving projects we’ve ever had [400,000-500,000 cubic yards]. Hopefully you won’t know we even did it. We just put the ridges and valleys back where they should go, tied into the treelines, made this feel seamless as it transitions from Course No. 2. We looked at old aerial photographs and tried to take some of Ross’s bunker placements, glean his strategies and thoughts. So it’s a tiny bit of restoration wrapped around a giant renovation, with a couple new golf holes. We looked at it as a new golf course. We hope what we’ve done is not only a complement to No. 2, but that it becomes a must-play alongside it.”

THE PERFECT ANSWER TO NO. 2

No argument here. No. 4 is now an absolute must, and the reasons are legion. It’s is more player-friendly than No. 2, especially on and around the greens. Hanse lowered them to be more in harmony with the terrain while Wagner shaped them to be more “accepting” rather than “rejecting,” as Ross’s greens often are to stirring (and sometimes frustrating) effect. Bunkers are bigger, bolder and wilder, pushing into and across fairways to create more definitive aim points and broaden strategic choices — as on the stout par-5 ninth and the “gettable” par 4 15th, which yielded one of two birdies on my card. The other came at No. 11, the third of four gorgeous par 3s; No. 14, meanwhile, is the lone lakeside one-shotter, the perfect follow-up to the Cape-styled par-5 13th.

From the opening sharp dogleg-right to the slightly uphill, left-moving 18th, No. 4 unfolds in this way, maintaining a firm rhythm throughout even as Hanse works in pleasant grace notes and surprising shifts in tempo. For me the round reaches its crescendo at the straightaway par-5 17th, which moves beautifully through a shallow valley with two bunkers jutting sneakily into the lay-up zone. I went driver, 8-iron, 8-iron to get home in three, then goosed a downhill birdie putt to leave a wicked comebacker, which I missed. Too bad I couldn’t go back and play that instant classic again to atone, but I can’t complain — Hanse gave me a clear and friendly shot at glory there and several other times during the round. I felt both welcomed and challenged.

To me, that’s the clearest difference between No. 4 and No. 2: The former is a credentialed bucket-lister that tends to take no prisoners, leaving the average golfer bloodied but feeling blessed to witness Ross’s genius in the flesh. With its friendlier greens, wider driving lanes, new-but-old charm and epic, inviting scale, No. 4 begs for an immediate replay. It also puts Pinehurst as a whole onto a path of come-one, come-all popularity that, from where I stand, has no end.

The Deuce, which overlooks the 18th green on No. 2.

BEYOND NO. 4: BEER, BITES AND BEDS

While No. 4 starts racking up the accolades on the Pinehurst golf front, there’s plenty of new activity elsewhere at the resort, especially if you like to eat and drink.

Overlooking the 18th green of the No. 2 course is The Deuce, a cut above most golf grills in that, well, it’s next to the most famous course in North Carolina, and also happens to be stuffed with images and memorabilia of the area’s deep golf history. The burgers, appetizers, salads and entrees offer Southern flair in getaway-friendly abundance, and its bar’s taps — as with all of Pinehurst’s saloons — pour one or two local and regional microbrews.

Speaking of which, the Pinehurst Brewhouse opened in mid-October in a former steam house that dates to 1895 and provided heat and electricity to the Holly Inn just up the road. The handsome, impeccably restored brick building immediately filled to the brim with golfers, other vacationers and thirsty Village folk. Pinehurst management lured master brewer Eric Mitchell away rom Heist Brewery in Charlotte, where his IPA, Citraquench’l, was a perennial Top 10 award winner;  he’s now putting his talents into producing killer pale and brown ales, witbiers and blondes in Pinehurst’s 10-barrel facility. The restaurant’s barbecue dishes are smoked in-house, and most herbs — used in food and some of Mitchell’s concoctions — are grown onsite. There’s a year-round heated patio, beer garden and plenty of frothy mirth to go around.

Of course, Pinehurst offers its traditional charms, too — the intimate and historic Holly, the stately Carolina Hotel with its unbeatable breakfast buffet, the Manor Inn, a full-service spa and a wealth of pubs, and restaurants and shops in the Village. And, oh yeah, a few world-class golf courses, too.

For tee times and reservations: www.pinehurst.com

The post New Pinehurst No. 4 Puts Premium On Fun appeared first on Golf Tips Magazine.

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[rickhiebert]

Warning: Newspaper at Play (featuring “Patty Hearst” )

The Magic Blue Editor’s Dress. Did you have it around during your own years at The Ubyssey?

Anyways....people at The Ubyssey used to have the money, editorial space and inclination to overtly try to have fun with what they were doing.

For example, in 1964-65, future Prime Minister Kim Campbell was a darling on campus as the first year student’s representtative on the AMS council.  She was always getting covered in the paper, had her picture taken, and such. 

In March 1965, she turned 18. In the March 11, 1965 issue there was a photo of  a male student holding up to her a giant sign saying “18 Now you’re...”with a picture of the silhouette of a back panther that they used to use to show that a film was “RESTRICTED” and only those 18 an above could go see it. Fortunately it was a big sign that the possibly naked guy holding the sign right in front of him was showing to Miss Campbell...

Campbell took life with the ‘geers’, UBC’s Engineering students, in stride, As part of her AMS responsibilites, she had an office. She quipped to a Ubyssey reporter that she had “an open door policy” because the ‘geers had swiped the door to her AMS office.

The Ubyssey played along with another prank by the ‘geers. In February 1963, several abstract statues of nude seeming figures  appeared on campus.

Late that month a picket appeared beside the statues. “Ralph the mystery picket” was protesting with signs around the statues complaining that they were indecent. “Ralph” and some friends put clothes on the statues.

In September 1963, eight brand new statues mysteriously appeared on campus. Some of the statues were near or next to the genuine ones that UBC had put out in the spring.

On Ctober 2, the engineers struck. Several dozen of them took crowbars and sledgehammers to the brand new statues, not, please note, the old ones. Photos of the destruction were run in the Ubyssey.

The Ubyssey revealed that it had been a glorious prank and the paper had been in on it. Students and faculty had been talking about the newer statues for weeks, but, The Ubyssey reported “no one had bothered to find out if they were real.”

The paper added that the statues “were fakes put on the campus by the engineering students to prove that UBC didn’t know junk from art.”

The Ubyssey also used to cover the T-Cup football game in the spring. Surely, this tradition is long gone...Female students in the Nursing and the Family and Nutritional Sciences faculties would suit up and play a game on a big field.

The ‘geer’s love of shells of old Volkswagen Beetle cars, was usually covered by The Ubyssey. Such as the amazing places they would be put, such as on the top of Buchnan Tower, the student residence, or hanging from the Lion’s Gate Bridge.

The Ubyssey scored big in 1975. The Engineering Undergraduate Society used to have a newpaper called The Red Rag. The Red Rag was typeset at College Printers, the same place where The Ubyssey was also typset and printed. [My very first year at the paper, we did “contra deals” with restauraunts. The Ubyssey will trade an ad in the paper for the restaurant feeding a table of Ubyssey staffers on production night. We’d eat and then carry on to Collge Printers where we’d “put the paper to bed “.]

So, 1975. The Ubyssey staff gathered at College Printers. They noticed that a special edition of The Red Rag was laid out on “flats” to be put out soon during “Engineering Week” So, they got out a typewriter, hand drew some cartoons and had some new “headlines” ypeset and all of a sudden, The Red Rag had become Maoist.

The Red Rag was published before the next Ubyssey. While students laughed at the Red Rag complaining that the UBC administration was “revanchist” The Ubyssey primly had a story wondering who had done the foul deed.

From the 1920s to 1940s, the Ubyssey had regular humour columns, Eric Nicol got his start at The Ubyssey before becoming a famous Canadian humorist. In 1947, Nicol had a prank played on him by fellow Ubyssey staffer Les Bewley--the latter would become a judge and then a ideologically conservative Vancouver Sun columnist.

During my own time at The Ubyssey, I did a story on one of Nicol’s later books. I’d heard of the prank and asked Nicol about it for a sidebar story.

Bewley, Nicol told me, took a donations can and collected money. When he had enough money, Bewley went downtown to Birks and had a plaque made. It was erected in Brock Hall As of the 1990s, the plaque was still up and I took a photo of it for The Ubyssey, which it ran with this story.

Nicol remembered that UBC professor G.G. Sedgewick was persuaded to officiate at the grand unveiling of the plaque, which read : “In Loving Memory of JABEZ (Eric P. Nicol) beloved campus humorist who for a full decade gave to his fellow man the precious gift of laughter.”

Sedgewick was not impressed.

Nicol remembered: “It was a very small gathering., around lunchtime, and Sedgewich was fed up with the whole thing too, and figured that it was some kind of a lark. All he could do was tear the cloth off the plaque, mutter a few obscenites, and stride off back to his classes.”

The Ubyssey has always had a sense of humour about itself.

For example, when The Ubyssey’s offices were much more of a place to hang out and get to know people than it seems to be these days. They would have year end dinners.

There. staffers would get joke “awards” that gently teased them in good humour. Over the years, I got and kept several of them..

Here is one I got:

I can’t forget The Magic Blue Editor’s Dress.

At the very top of this post, you’ll see a photo of an innocent Ubyssey staffer who had been dared to try on the dress, went to the bathroom and came back wearing it.

He had to know that a camera was witing for his return.

Anyways, several swarthy guys were featured in various staff recruitment ads over the years wearing the MBED. It has to be long gone, and current Ubyssey staff probably have no idea that it ever existed. Just like the framed photo of Enver Hoxha that we had to use to illustrate a news story one night.

Cub reporter Tom Wayman (yes, *the* Tom Wayman) found SFU in 1963, as it was being built. A series of “gag’ photos followed Wayman on his quest over the next two weeks on his quest to find “Simon Fraser Academy” or SFA” as the waggish Ubyssey dubbed it.

The series ended with a composite faked picture of future SFU chancellor-to-be Gordon Shrum isitting at a desk in an otherwise empty clearing. 

“Shrum” is quoted as saying: “This, all this is mine. All this is SFA” (Hint: not “Simon Fraser Academy)

The Ubyssey still likes to do parodies of print media today. During my own years there, it parodied The Completely Straight (Georgia Straight), The Vancouver Stunned (Vancouver Sun) The Gripe and Wail (Globe and Mail) and The Provincial Enquirer (Province).

I’ll finish with an old Ubyssey tradition that it doesn’t have the space for any more, the “joke story”.

It read as if it could be plausible...until you read the “turn” of the story on another page. In my time, there were two phone lines in SUB 241K, with two different phone numbers. One year, we did a “joke story” that students were going to get an extra GST cheque. We gave a phone number for getting information about the cheque and it was the second number, which we never printed in the paper. We got calls for two months on that line after the “GST” “joke story ran. I know. I fielded lots of them.

Of course, the kicker was to read the “turn” of the story.. When The Ubyseey went on to quote The Queen, Moammar Quadaffi and The Pope all saying ridiculous things, the penny was supposed to drop.

The story that ran on page one of the Nov. 26 1974 Ubyssey succeded spectacularly. People neded to “read the turn” and think about it. But they didn’t.

A journalist should have smelled a rat. First, the story is the bottom one of the page instead of trumpeting a scoop.

Here is a hyperlink to that paper as saved on the UBC Library’s online PDF files:

http://www.library.ubc.ca/archives/pdfs/ubyssey/UBYSSEY_1974_11_26.back 

Heiress Patty Hearst, older readers may recall, had been kidnapped in February by the Sybionese Liberation Army. After participating in a bank robbery, the FBI was avidly looking for Hearst.

Then The Ubyssey was naughty. It reported that Hearst had come to campus for a couple of hours and given an impromptu speech to ‘students in “Totem Park cafeteria”.

A murky photo of a long haired woman--shot from the back and cradling a shotgun in one arm--ran withe the story. A Ubyssey staffer of course.

A cassette recording of “Hearst’s” speech reportedly mysteriously appeared in a Ubyssey mailbox. in it she says “The dark majesty of proletarian oneness could not be shaken loose.”

The “story” goes on to note that “Hearst” got a standing ovation for her speech. However, the “turn” of the story quotes the UBC “Food service director as being asked why cafeteria workers hadn’t noticed “Hearst” in the cafeteria. And some other people being silly. A tip off that it is “fake news” as the term is today.

So there you go. Two days later, two letters in The Ubyssey had fun with the story. One letter says “I happen to know personally that Patty Hearst is dead....So stop looking for her. Sign me ‘anonymous’ Patty Hearst Windsor, Ontario.”

One last piece of Ubyssey lore about this “joke story”. In my day, there were huge plywood desks in SUB241K. One had a big gash in one side. I was told that it was where an angry news cameraman, part of a crew that had driven up from KOMO TV in Seattle, had kicked it.