Some straight men have learned to play Fashion Week expectations to their own advantage. At a party for streetwear and fashion parody labels Conflict of Interest and LPD, a friend said she’d spent twenty minutes dancing and joking with a young man she presumed to be gay. He complimented her “twerk”; she laughed at his mock encouragement. “Then he was like, ‘I wanna have an awkward lunch with you,’” she recalled. She gingerly offered her business card. His response? “No, stick it in my pocket, next to my dick.” Other straight guys were less bold. At Phillip Lim’s Target party on Thursday night, a pair lingered quietly in the back, wearing dress shirts and jeans. A friend who worked on the event’s production had invited them. “These women are at the tip-top of fashion,” said one, a 28-year-old in finance. “Me, I just work in midtown. I almost feel like I don’t belong in this lifestyle, like I’m not the guy they’re looking for.” But his companion, a 29-year-old consultant, was cautiously optimistic. “It beats meeting girls on Tinder,” he said. [The Cut]
Fashion Meets Finance
Business Cards Not Being Used For Intended Purpose At Fashion Week, Where Consultants Have More Faith In Their Odds Than Financial Services EmployeesBy Bess Levin
And wears them! In public! Where people can see him! The previously held assumption that he eats, sleeps, and showers exclusively in suits from Jos A. Bank hath been shattered! (This is almost as disorienting as the time Alan Greenspan was spotted in a tank top and cutoffs while running errands, though not nearly as traumatizing as the time the neighborhood kids got more than they’d bargained for when he came out to yell at them wearing only slipper-socks and his wife’s dressing gown!) Read more »
“As Interactive Brokers continued its dive into MF Global’s books, signs of exhaustion among the participants grew. J. Christopher Flowers, the MF Global investor and former Goldman executive, was spotted at the talks on Sunday wearing mismatched shoes.” [Dealbook]
What’s this joyous news you hear? The next Fashion Meets Finance is taking place April 8. For those of you who are unfamiliar with the even, FMF is based on the idea that “women in fashion need men who can facilitate their pre-30 marriage/retirement plan, and men in finance need women who will allow them to leverage their career in their dating equity.” Read more »
By now it’s been pretty well established that the RSVP list to this year’s meet up of the worst people on earth is riddled with lies. We assumed everyone would be over it by now, but no– a lot of you are beside yourselves, this idea that people might be fucking with you (“They’re trying to mess with us? They thought they could mess with us?!?”), and need to work through the shock/pain/grief. As always, we’re (begrudgingly) here for you.
From: [redacted at Goldman Sachs]
Subject: FMF shenanigans con’t
Also writing from Goldman here, re: FMF. I checked out the directory to cross-reference the names of people allegedly attending the event from GS and as was pointed out yesterday, there are maybe three people listed who actually work here, the rest are shams. Among those telling the truth, I’m being honest when I tell you that I snorted to myself upon noting their actual titles compared to the inflated ones submitted to FMF. I can tell you with a level of certainty that their salaries are NOT what they say they are. It’s rather absurd that they/the GS imposters are being allowed to get away with this, and I hope they’re stopped at the door.
Hop in the Delorean, we’re gunning this baby to the douche-tastic (but much loved) days of 2007. Put on your sunglasses cause we assure you, second-hand embarrassment will ensue:
Broke bankers and struggling models mobbed the rooftop of the Empire Hotel last night for the latest installment of Fashion Meets Finance. A tipsy brunette on crutches was trying to put her Burberry coat on so she could leave, but guys wearing suits sans ties kept jostling her as they moved past.
The party was billed as a return to the halcyon excesses of 2007, and enough unemployed finance types fished the necessary change from their couch to pony up for a bottle of Absolut. Liz, a 20-something fashionista in a low-cut black cocktail dress, eyed them skeptically and said, “just look at all the douches in those seats. They’re all so broke.” A line-up of seven models was in the DJ booth nodding to anemic dance music.
One of them, Sabrina Roberts, a six-foot Afro-Chinese stunner wearing a tiny creme-brulee-colored dress–told me she wasn’t giving up on finance dudes. “One, they’re more interesting; and two, can you imagine if everyone was in fashion?” I asked her if she had ever thought of dating so-called normal people. She twirled around, took a sip from her champagne flute and asked happily, “How do normal people pay for champagne?”
Graphic assault to the senses after the jump (via pictures from one of our readers who braved the storm).