It doesn’t quite rival commenter turned DealBreaker correspondent Investor Cluzo’s report, but Radar reporter Neel Shah’s trip to last night Fashion Meets Finance insanity gave us a good chuckle. Those fashion girls sure are bitter! And the guys are cocky! Expectations met.
“It’s like you’re never skinny enough, or slutty enough, or hot enough for guys here. It’s such bullshit. They all want to fuck models,” one size six twenty-three year old tells Shah.
“I know that if I go to a club tonight, I can find a hot girl and take her home. It’s not a big deal. By coming here…maybe I get some stories out of it?” Dinesh Patel of Goldman Sachs responds.
Oh, and here’s Radar’s photo gallery of the event, which includes a complaint by a certain girl named Molly, who complains that none of the finance guys would dance with her and her friend. “Except one dude in a hat and green vest, but he’s gay,” she says.
Fashion Meets Finance [Radar]
banking culture
One of our old faves, Bankers Ball, is back at its old act. Today she is discussing the dating life of women who date bankers.
No dating life would be complete without the classic Bad Boy. Bad Boys appeal to women not only because of the cachet of danger and risk, but because the idea of being able to reform the Bad Boy is every woman’s fantasy. After all, women want to be “The One” to teach BB commitment and monogamy; of course, still keeping the naughtiness in the bedroom.
Now take a Bad Boy, put him in a Brioni suit and you have Mr. Junk Bond.
Citigroup might want to rethink its insomniac slogan. Although the “Citi Never Sleeps” slogan is meant to convey a sense of never-ending vigilance, a new study shows that sleep deprivation leads to a loss of attentiveness and interferes with visual processing.
The study, which will be published in the Journal of Neuroscience, shows that losing only one night’s sleep has a dramatic effect on the brain, making it prone to short, sudden shutdowns. The study suggests that sleep-deprived people alternate between periods of near-normal brain function and dramatic lapses in attention and visual processing.
“It’s as though it is both asleep and awake and they are switching between each other very rapidly,” said David Dinges of the University of Pennsylvania School of Medicine. “Imagine you are sitting in a room watching a movie with the lights on. In a stable brain, the lights stay on all the time. In a sleepy brain, the lights suddenly go off.”
Losing just one night’s sleep makes brain prone to ‘sudden shutdowns’ [Evening Standard]
We wonder if there is a direct relationship between the performance of investment banks and the public image of investment bankers. A few years ago, New York’s major publishing houses were fighting each other in a desperate bidding war for the rights to publish Dana Vachon’s Mergers & Acquisitions: A Love Story. (And, before the last financial crisis of this magnitude, Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby was narrated by a young man who came to New York to work in investment banking.) But now all the sad young literary men have turned against investment banking, regarding it as perhaps the lowest occupation available to educated people. Lower, even, than television writers.
Here’s a guy who actually wrote a novel called All The Sad Young Literary Men lamenting that many of his college friends never became anything that counts. Instead, they became investment bankers.
Even worse than the temporary psychological distortion is, as [Dean of Columbia Journalism School Nick] Lemann argued in “The Big Test,” the permanent sense of entitlement the admissions game provides. Winners can plausibly claim they participated in a brutal competition (even if many potential competitors were never told about it). So we owe no one anything. Many of the people I went to school with became doctors, public advocates, television writers who bring laughter to the American people. But most of them became, like my friend who believed that getting into Harvard was the hardest thing in life, investment bankers. We meritocrats have not, generally speaking, used our fantastic test-taking abilities to build a more equitable world. In fact, buoyed by a sense of the fairness of the process, we may have done the reverse.
Admission Impossible [New York Times]
Being otherwise detained last evening and unable to attend, we found the only assholes in New York who weren’t participating in the greatest spectator of all time, i.e. PocketChangeNYC’s Speed Date II, for “Sugar Mamas and Boy Toys”…and sent them to watch. This is their recap.
The evening started off as any other, 4 guys tenting for some poon – what was different was what we were after. The patina of time had rendered this particular target as soft as cordovan and the flavor as intense as Peter Lugers finest prime. Tonight was going to be glorious, not easy, but glorious nonetheless. As any successful hunter knows, the lure has to be tailored to match the prey – in this case, we were armed with a near encyclopedic knowledge of the contemporary art scene, latest Palm Beach fashions, and the bat-phone numbers of the best cosmetic artists in the city. Or so we thought.
-
Posted in:
banking culture
Let Me Reiterate, That Cougar Will Feel Like She’s Sixteen Again When MY (Step) Son Is Banging Her, THIS MUCH I PROMISE YOU
By Bess Levin
Alright so there’s a slight clarification to be made to the story about the mother trying to peddle her son’s ass out to rich older women. Suzanne, the mom who really wanted her son Alex to at least be afforded the opportunity to become the sex slave of someone old enough to be his—wait for it—mother, didn’t actually give birth to Alex. She’s just his stepmother (more on that later). Yesterday, Big S placed a second call to PocketChangeNYC organizers, who weren’t yet entirely convinced they should make room for the kid at Thursday’s event, considering all slots were filled while he hemmed and hawed about forking over the fifty dollar entrance fee. Suzanne remains so certain that Alex’s participation in the singular awesomeness that is an evening of matchmaking between sugar mamas and boy toys under time constraint that she and her husband are willing to pay the $50 themselves, provided Alex is allowed to be whored out like everyone else. Suzanne adds at the end, as I guess her “final plea” or whatever, that she hopes they’ll reconsider, if for no other reason than the fact that she’s not Alex’s biological mother, and “part of the reason [she’d] really like him to be able to go is because it would cause her* so much agony.” Presumptuous insinuations about what sort of scenarios would or wouldn’t pain Alex’s real mom (who knows, perhaps this is exactly the sort of thing she’s always dreamed of for her baby boy), I have to say, we’re sold. And also that I hope to one day be so lucky as to have stepchildren at my disposal through which I can carry out vindictive but hilarious schemes that speak to my severe psychological problems. Additionally, and this is just me talking crazy, but I can’t help thinking there’s something going on between these two. Now that it’s printed as fact through the magic of the Internet, feel free to embellish on this incontrovertible truth and disseminate widely.
Message From Stepmom
Earlier: That Cougar Will Feel Like She’s Sixteen Again When MY Son Is Banging Her, THIS MUCH I PROMISE YOU
*”her” = biological mom, if you were confused.
-
Posted in:
banking culture
That Cougar Will Feel Like She’s Sixteen Again When MY Son Is Banging Her, THIS MUCH I PROMISE YOU
By Bess Levin
It’s probably a safe assumption that many of the male participants in Thursday’s speed dating event, earnestly taking part in this horrifically embarrassing but very entertaining spectator sport, have some sort of mother issue that is manifesting itself in their desire to be made the kept boys of much older women. But you have to wonder how many of them have gotten their actual mothers (and not their seasoned girlfriends) involved. Three? Four? Half the field? Or is Alex S., pictured here, the only one who, after taking too long to submit his profile because he didn’t want to pay the $50 entrance fee (which his new older lady friend surely would’ve recouped him for later), and was told all slots had sold out, had his mother call the organizers, begging them to reconsider the gross oversight of her little boy? For the love of humanity, I certainly hope not.
Message From Mom [audio clip]
-
Posted in:
banking culture
Let’s Talk About Sex (Alternatively, Let’s Not Talk About It, Because Someone’s “A Gentleman”)
By Bess Levin
Well, I spoke to 1-2, who’s taking the day off from work to recover from his date with ‘girl’ (kidding, he always takes Fridays off, sometimes Mondays, too, and every other Wednesday, and the second and fourth Tuesdays of each month). On the one hand, it sounds like they had a nice little first date. On the other, 1-2 didn’t give me shit! Honestly, the whole experience (the recap, not the date) was like pulling teeth. I get that he has to “play it cool” and “respect” her by not kissing and telling but John Francis Carney III, Esquire! show me some freaking gratitude. I brought you two together, I facilitated this whole thing. I’m not asking you scream out my name in the throes of passion (though people often do) or let me babysit the kids but show a little leg for god’s sake.
So. If anyone has a problem with the lack of entertainment value after the jump, take it up with 3-4, not me. The next time DealBreaker gets involved in the love lives of our readers, you can bet there’ll be a contractual obligation for explicit details and video footage. To that end, as soon as the editing is completed, we’ll be posting the results of commenter anal_yst’s date with commenter anal_yst. You will not be disappointed, this much I promise you.
DBBL (1:37:57 PM): ok so you met at the smith
DBBL (1:37:59 PM): what time
1-2 (1:38:03 PM): 830
DBBL (1:38:09 PM): who got there first
1-2 (1:38:22 PM): she did
DBBL (1:38:32 PM): were you late?
1-2 (1:38:46 PM): nah, i got there at like 832
DBBL (1:38:50 PM): ok
DBBL (1:38:59 PM): did you do any pre-date rituals beforehand?
I would say I’m offering up these two gems because it’s the weekend and we all deserve something special (me especially) but let’s be honest, even if you hadn’t earned it, it’d take gale force winds to stop me from sending these latest boy toys out into the universe. First up we have Gary, who is the logical extension of Tanner, in that Tanner was a towel boy and Gary loves to stand in still bodies of water. Gary is 29 and a commodities trader. Next is Monte, a 27 year old analyst who legitimately looks like a member of the Hitler Youth. Now I know I say that about a lot of people, but this time it’s true. Which is ironic, because Monte is employed by an insurer founded by Jews. Yes, it’s like Stalag 17 all over again.
Earlier this afternoon I was performing my daily task of scrutinizing pics of the males taking part in PocketChangeNYC’s speed dating event for “Rich Older Women and Hot Young Men (Sugar Mamas and Boy Toys),” AKA The Saddest Story Ever Told/The Greatest Spectator Sport Of All Time (if enough of you agree to show up on the 7th to watch, they’ll consider bringing in bleachers). Unfortunately for me, today’s batch of applicants were about as exciting as proxy access. No pool cleaners, no horses, NO CRUSHED VELVET. I was considering writing to PCNYC to vent my frustrations vis-a-vis their paint drying BTs but decided to retract my claws and give them one more chance (I’ve lately been taking my cues from Little Bunny Foo Foo’s F.G., except the shit about field mice, because those assholes have it coming), when I came across something that can only be described as smelling like Eau de Hunter, i.e. FISHY.
A 33 year old toy claiming to be “Mike Darda,” an economist with MKM Partners and CNBC commentator, enclosed five photos. The first three were all of him on CNBC, which I thought was a little weird and narcissistic and not necessarily an attribute I’d assign a “boy toy,” who’s supposed to be the submissive one that gets told what to do. But I reasoned that maybe he didn’t have any recent photographs of himself and besides, he looked pretty attractive in the screenshots– essential to his success at the event. Then I scrolled down to pics 4 and 5. Imagine my surprise and downright horror to find that the chappie* in the last two were decidedly NOT Mike Darda. I forwarded them to a few people who confirmed that I was not crazy (in this specific instance only), and that the five shots were definitely of two different dudes. But why would somebody do that? Steal a CNBC commentator’s identity to gain entry to a dating service? And then fuck it up by including two different faces? Or was the application actually submitted by Mike Darda, and he added a couple pictures of a less attractive dude, relatively speaking, to come off as what? Less intimidating to the senior citizens?
I had to shut off my computer and walk out of the room. I needed to get away from the notion that someone would take something so innocent and pure like a speed dating event for rich old women and hot young men and taint it with some sort of sick game. Now, several hours later, I still don’t understand. I’m hoping that it was just a case of incompetence on the part of PCNYC, and two applicants’ portfolios got mixed. But I’m not holding my breath. If you have any ideas, preferably ones that’ll talk me off the ledge, I implore you to share them now.
–Jewish Nancy Drew, DealBreaker correspondent.
*male form of “chippie”
Speaking of dating, let’s revisit PocketChangeNYC’s upcoming speed dating event for “Rich Older Women and Hot Young Men (Sugar Mamas and Boy Toys).” Female participants must be over be over 35 and qualify (with documented proof) on at least one of the following financial criteria: $500k+ salary, $4mm+ liquid assets, $4mm+ entrusted assets, $4mm+ divorce settlement, plus pay a $500 event fee. Males are required to provide five headshots to be judged for beauty, be under 35, and pay a $50 event fee. I told you guys/old ladies to get out there and sign up and represent DB. Some of you did. Good work. For those guys not interested in being subsidized by mom or ladies not looking for a hot younger man to smack around because you make the money and that makes you the boss, your loss. But you can still participate from the sidelines. Apparently there’s some sort of voting component that lets anyone, even DealBreaker readers, vote for their favorite SM or BT. Each day we’ll be looking at few of the candidates. Yesterday you got a peak at towel boy, and we also asked who you wanted to see next, The Horse Whisperer or Claus von Bülow in-training. 55.6 percent voted for Claus but we’re feeling giving today SO YOU GET BOTH. THW is 26 and an investment banker at a tiny bulge bracket. Claus is 34, which we’re not sure qualifies him as a “boy toy” but whatevs, and an analyst at “a full service investment bank.” He’s also very good at staring intently at something to the right of the camera, and coordinated enough to hold a beverage while doing so. POINTS.
