Aquapreps
As mentioned before, sailing and boating activities are highly popular among the preppy set. Aquapreps take it to a higher level. They may own more than one watercraft, read boating magazines obsessively, and can look at any boat sailing by and tell you the manufacturer, approximate age, and how much it cost new. Aquapreps' wardrobes are littered with nautical-themed gear. Men have plenty of canvas belts emroidered with nautical flags, marlin, bass, pirate flags, and anchors, and wear Sperry Topsiders practically everywhere. Aquapreps prefer double-breasted blazers, their rows of shiny brass buttons calling to mind naval officers' uniforms. Aquapreps' wives always have blue & white striped shirts, reminiscent of European sailors, navy blazers, and gem-studded brooches in the shape of anchors or fish. Aquapreps fill both their city and beach homes with nautical decor, such as brass anchor doorknockers, old diving helmets converted to table lamps, sextants, spyglasses, intricate model tall ships, oil paintings of ships at sea, and framed antique coastal maps. It may sound tacky or corny, but their decor always looks tasteful, never like they got it from a bankrupt all-you-can-eat seafood restaurant. Aquapreps' cars are required to have their initials spelled out in semaphore flags on a vanity plate or stickers on the rear window. Some take sailing so seriously as to participate in boat races. At these events, males see who can make it to the finish line first with a gut full of liquor, while their wives gather on the yacht club's dock in their white dresses and big floppy hats and watch the fun while sipping daiquiris. Others merely treat sailing as an excuse to join their beach town's local yacht club, where men gather in their double-breasted blazers and sit at the club's open-air bar looking out at the forest of masts, sails, and ropes.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Different kinds of preppies
While preppies as a whole form their own subculture, there are a few different types of preppies. I'll identify some of them below.
Good Ol' Preppy
Exclusively male, this type of preppy enjoys a wide array of rustic outdoor activities, such as canoeing on remote rivers, bird hunting, and even camping. He may even tinker with automobile engines, and is known to dabble in chewing tobacco. He is distinguished from less refined good ol' boys by his adherence to the preppy tradition of paying a premium for well-made clothing, preferring Polo over Cabela's. His automobile is invariably four-wheel-drive and is often an older model preppy vehicle, such as a mid-'80s Jeep Wagoneer. When he dresses for informal occasions, he is identical to the rest of the preppy set in his blazer and bow tie, but for casual affairs he is often seen sporting a baseball cap in bird hunting camouflage with a can of dip in his back pocket. He can also be distinguished from good ol' boys and rednecks by his avoidance of deer hunting. If he doesn't enter a more traditional preppy line of work, he may do well selling outdoor equipment, off-road vehicles, or rural real estate to good ol' boys.
Metroprep
Metropreps bear some similarities to metrosexuals. They are exquisitely groomed and manicured, and have very soft, delicate hands, often adorned with more than two rings. Their clothing is very similar to the rest of prepdom but even more well-tailored and flattering to their form, much of it purchased from independent men's boutiques rather than more traditional preppy clothiers. Due to their interest in fine art and antiques and sometimes effeminate speaking register, they can easily be mistaken for homosexuals, but are in fact hetero. They do not use hair product, at least in any noticeable way.
Dimbulb Prep
Although I have written previously that being academically gifted is practically a given for every preppy child, there do exist a small number of preppies who just don't have much going on upstairs. Sometimes they have someone intelligent in their recent ancestry who founded the family fortune, or perhaps they just have an ancestor who got lucky and bought cheap land with valuable timber, mineral, or petroleum deposits. They are raised in the same manner as every other preppy child, but receive little rebuke for their poor academic performance from their parents. Dimbulb preps aren't terribly bright but are still very likable, being engaging and humorous in conversation. They manage to coast through school with about a C- average, sometimes bribing smarter students to do their work for them in exchange for money, alcohol, or in the case of female dimbulbs, oral pleasure. In North Carolina, dimbulb preps attend Barton College or UNC-Pembroke, institutions established especially for students of mediocre aptitude. Upon graduating, a dimbulb prep is given an easy job in his father's business with a comfortable salary where he can't screw things up too badly and often excels, such as sales, where his dumb but likable personality is an asset. Dimbulb preps usually end up marrying golddiggers because they're either too oblivious to know or don't care.
Artistic prep
This is the category where yours truly fits. Artistic preps have natural artistic talent, often inherited. Their parents provide for a preppy lifestyle by dealing expensive art and antiques, or may work mundane traditional preppy jobs but engage in artistic activities in their spare time, such as painting, watercolors, or pottery. Artistic preps can be mildly eccentric but do not have an outlandish outward appearance like other artistic people; unusual accessories are usually limited to hats, colorful scarves, Chuck Taylor All-Star shoes, and thick-rimmed or brightly colored eyeglasses. Artistic preps who enter an artistic line of work earn a paltry salary, but acquire the necessary preppy accouterments such as clothing and fine furnishings from wealthier family members or a trust fund.
Good Ol' Preppy
Exclusively male, this type of preppy enjoys a wide array of rustic outdoor activities, such as canoeing on remote rivers, bird hunting, and even camping. He may even tinker with automobile engines, and is known to dabble in chewing tobacco. He is distinguished from less refined good ol' boys by his adherence to the preppy tradition of paying a premium for well-made clothing, preferring Polo over Cabela's. His automobile is invariably four-wheel-drive and is often an older model preppy vehicle, such as a mid-'80s Jeep Wagoneer. When he dresses for informal occasions, he is identical to the rest of the preppy set in his blazer and bow tie, but for casual affairs he is often seen sporting a baseball cap in bird hunting camouflage with a can of dip in his back pocket. He can also be distinguished from good ol' boys and rednecks by his avoidance of deer hunting. If he doesn't enter a more traditional preppy line of work, he may do well selling outdoor equipment, off-road vehicles, or rural real estate to good ol' boys.
Metroprep
Metropreps bear some similarities to metrosexuals. They are exquisitely groomed and manicured, and have very soft, delicate hands, often adorned with more than two rings. Their clothing is very similar to the rest of prepdom but even more well-tailored and flattering to their form, much of it purchased from independent men's boutiques rather than more traditional preppy clothiers. Due to their interest in fine art and antiques and sometimes effeminate speaking register, they can easily be mistaken for homosexuals, but are in fact hetero. They do not use hair product, at least in any noticeable way.
Dimbulb Prep
Although I have written previously that being academically gifted is practically a given for every preppy child, there do exist a small number of preppies who just don't have much going on upstairs. Sometimes they have someone intelligent in their recent ancestry who founded the family fortune, or perhaps they just have an ancestor who got lucky and bought cheap land with valuable timber, mineral, or petroleum deposits. They are raised in the same manner as every other preppy child, but receive little rebuke for their poor academic performance from their parents. Dimbulb preps aren't terribly bright but are still very likable, being engaging and humorous in conversation. They manage to coast through school with about a C- average, sometimes bribing smarter students to do their work for them in exchange for money, alcohol, or in the case of female dimbulbs, oral pleasure. In North Carolina, dimbulb preps attend Barton College or UNC-Pembroke, institutions established especially for students of mediocre aptitude. Upon graduating, a dimbulb prep is given an easy job in his father's business with a comfortable salary where he can't screw things up too badly and often excels, such as sales, where his dumb but likable personality is an asset. Dimbulb preps usually end up marrying golddiggers because they're either too oblivious to know or don't care.
Artistic prep
This is the category where yours truly fits. Artistic preps have natural artistic talent, often inherited. Their parents provide for a preppy lifestyle by dealing expensive art and antiques, or may work mundane traditional preppy jobs but engage in artistic activities in their spare time, such as painting, watercolors, or pottery. Artistic preps can be mildly eccentric but do not have an outlandish outward appearance like other artistic people; unusual accessories are usually limited to hats, colorful scarves, Chuck Taylor All-Star shoes, and thick-rimmed or brightly colored eyeglasses. Artistic preps who enter an artistic line of work earn a paltry salary, but acquire the necessary preppy accouterments such as clothing and fine furnishings from wealthier family members or a trust fund.
Monday, March 22, 2010
Welcome to the Socialist States of America
We're all fucked. Our future was voted away by sleazebag democrats looking to secure future votes from the least intelligent (and probably majority) sector of the general population.
The previous health care system was already fucked up beyond repair. Beyond repair. Is this new legislation is going to fix it and make everything all better? Fuck no! Under the new plan, even more people are going to get screwed. So I guess the commies and socialists who think everyone should be equal will get their wish, because everyone's equally ass-fucked under this plan. Our glorious leader is going to jack up everyone's taxes to pay for health care for those who couldn't afford it before under the previous, slightly less fucked-up system. So if you're already paying for health insurance, maybe you will see premiums go down, but it won't make any difference because your income taxes will shoot up to pay for the whole goddamn leviathan.
It's all downhill from here, folks. Next the democommies will push for the "public option," a health insurance plan funded by your tax dollars to pay for Reena and Joe-Bob in Idaho and their five bastard kids. Private insurers won't be outlawed, but will close up shop when they can't compete with taxpayer-funded rates that are so much lower because of the additional taxes imposed on employers and individuals who choose private insurance. All that will be left will be Uncle Scam's health insurance, which will impose price controls on everything. Hospitals will cut back on services and cut doctors' and other staffs' pay just to stay open, making you have to wait in line for critical care or surgery because fewer people will be willing to work for the reduced pay. Would you like to die from a tumor or cancer that could have been prevented if you hadn't had to wait 6 months for an MRI? That's the way it already works in Canada, which has fewer MRI machines in the entire country than in the state of Michigan.
To provide all the funding this bullshit plan requires, Obama is also slashing Medicare and Medicaid. God help your parents and any surviving grandparents if they're not exceedingly wealthy. They'll also have to wait in line behind everyone else for inferior-quality care. "Sorry," says Uncle Scam, "you're old and feeble, so you'll just have to die waiting for treatment."
Oh, but your glorious leader needs more money to make sure everyone gets cheap health care and votes for his democrat cronies in future elections, so he's going to take it out of your inheritance. The estate tax was set to expire in 2011, but if the democommies have their way, they'll reinstate it, and possibly even worse than before. If you have parents or grandparents who worked hard, saved, invested wisely, and bought houses to raise their families, anything you stand to inherit will once again be cut in half, to be taken by the gummint and given back to your pals Joe-Bob and Reena. Did your dad or granddad bust his ass all his working years so that his house and all his savings would be scattered to the wind when he died?
It's all in the shitter now, friends. No matter how hard or smart you work, in Obama's new socialist state, it will all be for nothing.
The previous health care system was already fucked up beyond repair. Beyond repair. Is this new legislation is going to fix it and make everything all better? Fuck no! Under the new plan, even more people are going to get screwed. So I guess the commies and socialists who think everyone should be equal will get their wish, because everyone's equally ass-fucked under this plan. Our glorious leader is going to jack up everyone's taxes to pay for health care for those who couldn't afford it before under the previous, slightly less fucked-up system. So if you're already paying for health insurance, maybe you will see premiums go down, but it won't make any difference because your income taxes will shoot up to pay for the whole goddamn leviathan.
It's all downhill from here, folks. Next the democommies will push for the "public option," a health insurance plan funded by your tax dollars to pay for Reena and Joe-Bob in Idaho and their five bastard kids. Private insurers won't be outlawed, but will close up shop when they can't compete with taxpayer-funded rates that are so much lower because of the additional taxes imposed on employers and individuals who choose private insurance. All that will be left will be Uncle Scam's health insurance, which will impose price controls on everything. Hospitals will cut back on services and cut doctors' and other staffs' pay just to stay open, making you have to wait in line for critical care or surgery because fewer people will be willing to work for the reduced pay. Would you like to die from a tumor or cancer that could have been prevented if you hadn't had to wait 6 months for an MRI? That's the way it already works in Canada, which has fewer MRI machines in the entire country than in the state of Michigan.
To provide all the funding this bullshit plan requires, Obama is also slashing Medicare and Medicaid. God help your parents and any surviving grandparents if they're not exceedingly wealthy. They'll also have to wait in line behind everyone else for inferior-quality care. "Sorry," says Uncle Scam, "you're old and feeble, so you'll just have to die waiting for treatment."
Oh, but your glorious leader needs more money to make sure everyone gets cheap health care and votes for his democrat cronies in future elections, so he's going to take it out of your inheritance. The estate tax was set to expire in 2011, but if the democommies have their way, they'll reinstate it, and possibly even worse than before. If you have parents or grandparents who worked hard, saved, invested wisely, and bought houses to raise their families, anything you stand to inherit will once again be cut in half, to be taken by the gummint and given back to your pals Joe-Bob and Reena. Did your dad or granddad bust his ass all his working years so that his house and all his savings would be scattered to the wind when he died?
It's all in the shitter now, friends. No matter how hard or smart you work, in Obama's new socialist state, it will all be for nothing.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
The preppie life cycle
Now I will describe the preppy life cycle. Every prep lives essentially the same life, from birth to death, and so do his children and his children's children. It's all for the sake of making sure nothing ever changes.
Birth
Shortly after birth, preppy children are given silver baby cups engraved with their name, sterling silver teething spoons, and silver rattles. These items will never be used for their intended purpose, but put away in a drawer in the dining room.
Early Education
Preppy children are sent to private religious preschools, where they are taught the basics of their parents' particular protestant denomination (Episcopalian or Presbyterian) but never develop a devout faith. For preps, religion is mostly a family tradition and a source of moral guidance to keep people from misbehaving too much, and church is a social gathering place where preps can show off their best clothes and chitchat before and after, as well as a place to form little clubs and have informal suppers. Preppy children go on to attend the same schools as their parents where they socialize with other preppy children. If they attend a quality public school, they run the risk of making friends with minorities or lower-middle-class kids, so to make sure they socialize exclusively with the "right" friends, their parents send them to expensive after-school activities where other preppy parents send their own children, such as golf lessons, dance lessons (for girls), soccer teams, tennis lessons, horseback riding lessons, and swimming lessons at the country club or anywhere other than the YMCA or municipal pool.
Childhood & Adolescence
It is practically unheard of for a preppy child not to be classified as academically gifted. In public school systems, this ensures that they will only be socialized with other preppy children by attending advanced classes. Preppy children excel equally at sports, to help instill a jocular gregariousness and team spirit that will make them more popular in high school and serve them well in the future at cocktail parties. A preppy child's bedroom is always festooned with athletic trophies and academic certificates & ribbons. In the summer, preppy children hang out at the country club between trips to the beach house and a stint at an expensive summer camp (expensive to ensure that only other preppy kids are in attendance). In North Carolina, the ultimate preppy camps are Camp Seagull (boys) and Seafarer (girls - and prounounced "seefairuh"). Trips to the beach can last anywhere from 2-6 weeks at a time. In their teenage years, preppy children don't engage in too much rebellion beyond wearing rumpled clothing and unkempt hairstyles, and get into minor shenanigans such as drinking underage or skinnydipping at the club. It's common practice for preppy high schoolers to drink liquor from soda bottles in class. Preppy high school parties are held at someone's house nearly every weekend and center around the objective of getting drunk. There's always someone with an older sibling or a good fake ID to supply the booze, and sometimes parents supply the alcohol in hopes of securing their children's popularity. Preppy teenagers never get into legal trouble because they are too smart to get caught. Preppy teenagers frequently drive drunk, but never get caught because cops don't patrol preppy neighborhoods, which are made up of interconnected residential streets, allowing sloshed motorists to avoid the main roads where the cops do patrol. Some preppy teenagers take menial summer jobs at the behest of their parents, who want them to learn the real value of a dollar. Often these jobs are in the same town as the beach house, where the preppy teen lives all summer. Preppy high school students participate in multiple extracurricular activities (including SADD, ironically) in order to pad their college applications, and have the free time to do so because, thanks to their privileged circumstances, they don't need to take part-time jobs during the school year. This, combined with a history of generous alumni contributions from parents and excellent GPA's, guarantees that preps will go to their choice of classic preppy universities (for North Carolina preppies, these include UNC-Chapel Hill, Duke, Wake Forest, Hampden-Sydney, and Clemson).
College
Preppy men attend college for different reasons than preppy women. Preppy men pursue a degree that will land them in a career that pays well and doesn't require manual or outdoor labor. Whether they actually enjoy the work is immaterial; the purpose of a preppy job is to provide for a gracious lifestyle on nights and weekends. With the exception of fine arts majors whose parents will supplement their dismal future salaries, preppy men study law, business, finance, or medicine. If they are directionless and earn a useless degree such as history, psychology, or communications, they will go on to get a realtor's license and sell houses. Preppy women, on the other hand, pursue a meaningless liberal arts degree with the real purpose of attending college being to find a suitable preppy man to marry. Both sexes join fraternities & sororities, usually the same ones their parents joined. The thought of choosing not to go Greek blows a fuse in a preppy's brain; it simply doesn't happen. Preppies usually quit wearing their Greek-letter t-shirts and baseball caps when they get married.
Sex, Love, Marriage, and Reproduction
Premarital sex for high school preppies is usually performed under the influence of alcohol with people they've known since kindergarten and not discussed afterward because their families know each other. Preppy college men sleep with with women they wouldn't consider marrying - the whole madonna-whore complex - and preppy college women engage in alcohol-fueled one-night-stands with fraternity members.
Preppy women are raised to get engaged in college or shortly thereafter, preferably to a preppy man who is still a struggling young attorney or poor medical intern, which eliminates the appearance of gold-digging. Whomever she chooses, his family is likely to be somehow connected to her own through friendships or business connections. The couple is probably not deeply in love; it's more like they're good friends with compatible genitalia. Preppies get married when they find someone who can stand them, who fits in with their families, and will provide a lifetime of stability as well as a guaranteed date for all social functions. Preppy engagements and weddings follow Emily Post to the letter, strictly adhering to her guidelines for announcements, invitations, and festivities such as bridesmaids' luncheons and rehearsal dinners. The couple's gift registry always includes a fine china pattern, an everyday china pattern, and a sterling silverware pattern. At a preppy wedding you'll see among the guests a sampling of the local power elite: influential attorneys, judges, legislators, and possibly congressmen abound, as well as business leaders. First they get the ceremony out of the way, a very somber religious affair, and then it's time to par-tay. The D.J. spins the couple's favorite tunes, and in North Carolina, shag music is required by law. Two hours into the reception, you're sure to see a slew of sweaty, liquored-up white people gyrating around on the dance floor and possibly a few bridesmaids sneaking off to make out with groomsmen.
Once the couple has been settled in for a year or two and the husband finally makes partner or finishes his residency, it's time to pop out some preppy children and buy a large house in an old neighborhood where other preppies live. Pregnancies are regarded among preps as the greatest miracle since the harnessing of fire, and multiple parties are thrown for the expectant preppy mother, who spends her days poring over every book she can find about pregnancy, buying expensive maternity wear, and shopping for strollers that cost more than some people earn in a week. Some first-time expecting preppies claim they'll go back to work after giving birth, but always quit their day jobs. The new mom buys an SUV if she doesn't already have one, then joins a couple of charitable organizations where her preppy female friends with children volunteer. Most of their activities involve organizing parties with raffles where they drink wine, gossip, and talk about childrearing. If childbearing has not occurred by the third year of marriage, the couple's mothers, female friends with children, mothers' female friends, and grandmothers will turn on the pressure full blast. Preppy reproduction is nearly unavoidable, and sometimes occurs only after spending thousands of dollars on fertility treatments. Adoption is practically out of the question; the preppy bloodline must remain pure. Once the children start to arrive, the whole process I've been describing is repeated once again for a new generation.
As the children grow and repeat their parents' lives precisely, the mother spends her days shuttling the children to school and activities, instructing the maid, organizing charitable functions, and taking the children to the beach house in the summer. The father works his life away, gradually earning promotions until he reaches the top of the workplace, or close to it, and lives his weekends to their fullest with cocktail parties and beach trips.
The Autumn Years
Preppies tend to retire before age 60, having built up significant retirement funds through a combination of inheritances and shrewd investing, and rattle around for a while doing whatever they feel like. The ideal exit for a preppy is a quiet, dignified passing in one's sleep at the beach house with a fully functional body and mind. Some, however, need extra care, and move into expensive retirement homes populated by other elderly preppies. After passing, a preppy is buried in a family plot, surrounded by other preppy families' plots.
Birth
Shortly after birth, preppy children are given silver baby cups engraved with their name, sterling silver teething spoons, and silver rattles. These items will never be used for their intended purpose, but put away in a drawer in the dining room.
Early Education
Preppy children are sent to private religious preschools, where they are taught the basics of their parents' particular protestant denomination (Episcopalian or Presbyterian) but never develop a devout faith. For preps, religion is mostly a family tradition and a source of moral guidance to keep people from misbehaving too much, and church is a social gathering place where preps can show off their best clothes and chitchat before and after, as well as a place to form little clubs and have informal suppers. Preppy children go on to attend the same schools as their parents where they socialize with other preppy children. If they attend a quality public school, they run the risk of making friends with minorities or lower-middle-class kids, so to make sure they socialize exclusively with the "right" friends, their parents send them to expensive after-school activities where other preppy parents send their own children, such as golf lessons, dance lessons (for girls), soccer teams, tennis lessons, horseback riding lessons, and swimming lessons at the country club or anywhere other than the YMCA or municipal pool.
Childhood & Adolescence
It is practically unheard of for a preppy child not to be classified as academically gifted. In public school systems, this ensures that they will only be socialized with other preppy children by attending advanced classes. Preppy children excel equally at sports, to help instill a jocular gregariousness and team spirit that will make them more popular in high school and serve them well in the future at cocktail parties. A preppy child's bedroom is always festooned with athletic trophies and academic certificates & ribbons. In the summer, preppy children hang out at the country club between trips to the beach house and a stint at an expensive summer camp (expensive to ensure that only other preppy kids are in attendance). In North Carolina, the ultimate preppy camps are Camp Seagull (boys) and Seafarer (girls - and prounounced "seefairuh"). Trips to the beach can last anywhere from 2-6 weeks at a time. In their teenage years, preppy children don't engage in too much rebellion beyond wearing rumpled clothing and unkempt hairstyles, and get into minor shenanigans such as drinking underage or skinnydipping at the club. It's common practice for preppy high schoolers to drink liquor from soda bottles in class. Preppy high school parties are held at someone's house nearly every weekend and center around the objective of getting drunk. There's always someone with an older sibling or a good fake ID to supply the booze, and sometimes parents supply the alcohol in hopes of securing their children's popularity. Preppy teenagers never get into legal trouble because they are too smart to get caught. Preppy teenagers frequently drive drunk, but never get caught because cops don't patrol preppy neighborhoods, which are made up of interconnected residential streets, allowing sloshed motorists to avoid the main roads where the cops do patrol. Some preppy teenagers take menial summer jobs at the behest of their parents, who want them to learn the real value of a dollar. Often these jobs are in the same town as the beach house, where the preppy teen lives all summer. Preppy high school students participate in multiple extracurricular activities (including SADD, ironically) in order to pad their college applications, and have the free time to do so because, thanks to their privileged circumstances, they don't need to take part-time jobs during the school year. This, combined with a history of generous alumni contributions from parents and excellent GPA's, guarantees that preps will go to their choice of classic preppy universities (for North Carolina preppies, these include UNC-Chapel Hill, Duke, Wake Forest, Hampden-Sydney, and Clemson).
College
Preppy men attend college for different reasons than preppy women. Preppy men pursue a degree that will land them in a career that pays well and doesn't require manual or outdoor labor. Whether they actually enjoy the work is immaterial; the purpose of a preppy job is to provide for a gracious lifestyle on nights and weekends. With the exception of fine arts majors whose parents will supplement their dismal future salaries, preppy men study law, business, finance, or medicine. If they are directionless and earn a useless degree such as history, psychology, or communications, they will go on to get a realtor's license and sell houses. Preppy women, on the other hand, pursue a meaningless liberal arts degree with the real purpose of attending college being to find a suitable preppy man to marry. Both sexes join fraternities & sororities, usually the same ones their parents joined. The thought of choosing not to go Greek blows a fuse in a preppy's brain; it simply doesn't happen. Preppies usually quit wearing their Greek-letter t-shirts and baseball caps when they get married.
Sex, Love, Marriage, and Reproduction
Premarital sex for high school preppies is usually performed under the influence of alcohol with people they've known since kindergarten and not discussed afterward because their families know each other. Preppy college men sleep with with women they wouldn't consider marrying - the whole madonna-whore complex - and preppy college women engage in alcohol-fueled one-night-stands with fraternity members.
Preppy women are raised to get engaged in college or shortly thereafter, preferably to a preppy man who is still a struggling young attorney or poor medical intern, which eliminates the appearance of gold-digging. Whomever she chooses, his family is likely to be somehow connected to her own through friendships or business connections. The couple is probably not deeply in love; it's more like they're good friends with compatible genitalia. Preppies get married when they find someone who can stand them, who fits in with their families, and will provide a lifetime of stability as well as a guaranteed date for all social functions. Preppy engagements and weddings follow Emily Post to the letter, strictly adhering to her guidelines for announcements, invitations, and festivities such as bridesmaids' luncheons and rehearsal dinners. The couple's gift registry always includes a fine china pattern, an everyday china pattern, and a sterling silverware pattern. At a preppy wedding you'll see among the guests a sampling of the local power elite: influential attorneys, judges, legislators, and possibly congressmen abound, as well as business leaders. First they get the ceremony out of the way, a very somber religious affair, and then it's time to par-tay. The D.J. spins the couple's favorite tunes, and in North Carolina, shag music is required by law. Two hours into the reception, you're sure to see a slew of sweaty, liquored-up white people gyrating around on the dance floor and possibly a few bridesmaids sneaking off to make out with groomsmen.
Once the couple has been settled in for a year or two and the husband finally makes partner or finishes his residency, it's time to pop out some preppy children and buy a large house in an old neighborhood where other preppies live. Pregnancies are regarded among preps as the greatest miracle since the harnessing of fire, and multiple parties are thrown for the expectant preppy mother, who spends her days poring over every book she can find about pregnancy, buying expensive maternity wear, and shopping for strollers that cost more than some people earn in a week. Some first-time expecting preppies claim they'll go back to work after giving birth, but always quit their day jobs. The new mom buys an SUV if she doesn't already have one, then joins a couple of charitable organizations where her preppy female friends with children volunteer. Most of their activities involve organizing parties with raffles where they drink wine, gossip, and talk about childrearing. If childbearing has not occurred by the third year of marriage, the couple's mothers, female friends with children, mothers' female friends, and grandmothers will turn on the pressure full blast. Preppy reproduction is nearly unavoidable, and sometimes occurs only after spending thousands of dollars on fertility treatments. Adoption is practically out of the question; the preppy bloodline must remain pure. Once the children start to arrive, the whole process I've been describing is repeated once again for a new generation.
As the children grow and repeat their parents' lives precisely, the mother spends her days shuttling the children to school and activities, instructing the maid, organizing charitable functions, and taking the children to the beach house in the summer. The father works his life away, gradually earning promotions until he reaches the top of the workplace, or close to it, and lives his weekends to their fullest with cocktail parties and beach trips.
The Autumn Years
Preppies tend to retire before age 60, having built up significant retirement funds through a combination of inheritances and shrewd investing, and rattle around for a while doing whatever they feel like. The ideal exit for a preppy is a quiet, dignified passing in one's sleep at the beach house with a fully functional body and mind. Some, however, need extra care, and move into expensive retirement homes populated by other elderly preppies. After passing, a preppy is buried in a family plot, surrounded by other preppy families' plots.
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
A little more about the preppy way of life
I'll start by discussing the basics of preppies' outward appearance. First of all, if it's made in the UK, it's automatically superior to anything made anywhere else because that's where all their ancestors are from. Clothing is purchased based on quality of materials and construction, as well as flattering tailoring, but most importantly its ability to be worn year after year without looking dated. Not all preppy clothing is expensive; preppies unabashedly take full advantage of sales, clearances, outlets, and discount stores, and frequently brag about how little they paid for an attractive item. Popular preppy clothiers include Brooks Brothers, L.L. Bean, Banana Republic, Orvis, Duckhead (does that sill exist?), Lacoste, Ralph Lauren (incl. Polo, Chaps, and Lauren), Barbour, and Burberry. Abercrombie & Fitch, Hollister, American Eagle, Aeropostale, and Juicy Couture are ABSOLUTELY NOT PREPPY; they are patronized by people who think they are being classy by spending too much money on clothes that make them look like white trash and will make them the envy of everyone else on the #9 bus. A&F was preppy until the late 1990's but fell out of preppy favor with its racy quarterly catalog. Adults and adolescents tend to dress generally the same, as one of the foundations of the preppy lifestyle is tradition and continuity, though adolescents often rebel by taking on a disheveled appearance, exposing shirt tails, leaving trousers un-ironed, and wearing shorts with tattered hems. Timeless classics form the foundation of the wardrobe. Outside of whatever is worn for their profession, men wear cotton chinos, polo or golf shirts, shorts for casual activity (weather permitting), oxford shirts, blazers, sweaters, and sweatshirts if appropriate (either plain or bearing an acceptable college or university name). Preppy mens' jeans are seldom expensive (plain old Levi's, Lee, and Wrangler are popular) and worn when deemed appropriate. Bowties are a popular touch of whimsy and a nod to tradition. Except for black tie events, a Southern preppy is never incorrect when wearing khaki chinos, a navy blazer, and oxford shirt with either bowtie or necktie; such is still frequently worn when attending football games at some universities. A bowtie may be thought too whimsical for a funeral; it depends on whether the wearer is known by other attendants to wear bowties almost exclusively. Colors and patterns run the gamut, but are selected based on their appropriateness for the occasion. This sense for appropriate clothing choice is ingrained into the preppy from birth and honed from years of observing peers' and elders' clothing. Shoes are chosen for their durability, comfort, and practicality first; attractiveness comes second. Preppy men are rarely given a second thought when they sport hideous shoes that feel marvelous on their feet. Sperry Topsiders are a perennial favorite; they make the wearer appear not too serious or stuffy, and also serve as a pleasant reminder of sailing and seaside leisure. An aversion to socks is frequently observed among preppy men except at very formal or somber occasions. Jewelry is worn sparingly, if at all. Few preppy men wear more than a wristwatch, wedding band, and signet ring. Watches tend to be costly but will last longer than the wearer. Baseball caps are perfectly acceptable for casual occasions or leisure, but decorations are restricted to acceptable schools, fraternities (until age 30), golf equipment manufacturer logos, vacation spots, leisure activities, and organization logos (e.g. Ducks Unlimited, beach clubs, yacht clubs). Only camouflage used exclusively for bird hunting is worn. Preppy men's bodies run a range of sizes and shapes, from rail-thin to morbidly obese, whereas preppy women are expected to maintain a reasonably trim figure, though there's no shame in an age-appropriate neck wattle or turkey wings. Men practice neat grooming, keeping hair clean and attractively styled (rarely buzzed down), nails clipped, and whiskers trimmed.
Accessory items include boats, horses, automobiles, second homes, and children.
Boats and horses are not for all preps, as not all preps really care for their related activities. Those who like sailing keep expensive boats in marinas near their beach houses, and have the right to wear canvas belts with nautical flags or marlin fish embroidered on them. Horse lovers keep expensive horses in stables, visit them a couple times a week, and parade them around in occasional shows and competitions. Expensive English-made clothing and gear are a requirement for horsing around, making the sport that much more appealing, because if it's English, it's just plain better.
True preps usually select cars for their reliability and range of options. Many true preps are content to drive Ford SUVs as long as they're fully loaded with all the available bells and whistles. A prep may only drive one brand of car his whole life because his family owns a dealership. Mercedes, though expensive, is renowned among preps for its sound engineering and comfortable ride. If you see someone driving expensive cars that don't stand the test of time, such as Range Rovers and Jaguars, he may be merely nouveau-riche.
Second homes are found in remote or less developed locations such as mountains or beaches. These homes are smaller than a prep's primary residence and are always furnished and decorated to reflect their surroundings - rough-hewn pieces in warm wood tones and Native American blankets & rugs at the mountain house, light hues, sea grass, and wicker at the beach house. No matter how primitive the immediate vicinity, the preppy vacation house is always within a short drive or walk to bars, restaurants, antiques shops, sporting goods stores, and women's boutiques. Preppies like to get away from it all, just not too far away.
Like so much else they do, preppies have children for no reason other than it's just what's always been done. They have no need for them, as children are completely obsolete and serve no useful purpose, but they feel compelled to reproduce because not to do so would be too much of a shocking change from the norm. Getting married, having children, and buying a big house with an oversize yard and trees that may kill everyone in the next hurricane is simply what's done.
The preppy personality is one of gregariousness, pleasantness, politeness, respect, and humor that is only slightly off-color (except in the exclusive company of close male friends). Preppies are always expected to practice proper table manners, even at casual functions. Preppies say "yes ma'am," open doors for women, assist the elderly, listen as much as they speak, enjoy getting tipsy but not falling-down drunk, dance without embarrassment, and can hold thought-provoking conversations about politics and business when appropriate. Talking about money is taboo. Preppies don't discuss how much their possessions cost (unless it was a great bargain) or how much they earn; everyone knows the cost of everyone else's stuff anyway because everyone buys the same stuff. Salaries are more of a mystery; those who appear well-to-do could be living paycheck to paycheck, with their parents helping out, and others who live modestly may be raking in 500K a year. No one knows because preps don't intentionally display wealth. Gossip is conducted in intimate gatherings, but not at parties. Everyone knows the dirt about everyone else, but it's never discussed at polite functions.
Accessory items include boats, horses, automobiles, second homes, and children.
Boats and horses are not for all preps, as not all preps really care for their related activities. Those who like sailing keep expensive boats in marinas near their beach houses, and have the right to wear canvas belts with nautical flags or marlin fish embroidered on them. Horse lovers keep expensive horses in stables, visit them a couple times a week, and parade them around in occasional shows and competitions. Expensive English-made clothing and gear are a requirement for horsing around, making the sport that much more appealing, because if it's English, it's just plain better.
True preps usually select cars for their reliability and range of options. Many true preps are content to drive Ford SUVs as long as they're fully loaded with all the available bells and whistles. A prep may only drive one brand of car his whole life because his family owns a dealership. Mercedes, though expensive, is renowned among preps for its sound engineering and comfortable ride. If you see someone driving expensive cars that don't stand the test of time, such as Range Rovers and Jaguars, he may be merely nouveau-riche.
Second homes are found in remote or less developed locations such as mountains or beaches. These homes are smaller than a prep's primary residence and are always furnished and decorated to reflect their surroundings - rough-hewn pieces in warm wood tones and Native American blankets & rugs at the mountain house, light hues, sea grass, and wicker at the beach house. No matter how primitive the immediate vicinity, the preppy vacation house is always within a short drive or walk to bars, restaurants, antiques shops, sporting goods stores, and women's boutiques. Preppies like to get away from it all, just not too far away.
Like so much else they do, preppies have children for no reason other than it's just what's always been done. They have no need for them, as children are completely obsolete and serve no useful purpose, but they feel compelled to reproduce because not to do so would be too much of a shocking change from the norm. Getting married, having children, and buying a big house with an oversize yard and trees that may kill everyone in the next hurricane is simply what's done.
The preppy personality is one of gregariousness, pleasantness, politeness, respect, and humor that is only slightly off-color (except in the exclusive company of close male friends). Preppies are always expected to practice proper table manners, even at casual functions. Preppies say "yes ma'am," open doors for women, assist the elderly, listen as much as they speak, enjoy getting tipsy but not falling-down drunk, dance without embarrassment, and can hold thought-provoking conversations about politics and business when appropriate. Talking about money is taboo. Preppies don't discuss how much their possessions cost (unless it was a great bargain) or how much they earn; everyone knows the cost of everyone else's stuff anyway because everyone buys the same stuff. Salaries are more of a mystery; those who appear well-to-do could be living paycheck to paycheck, with their parents helping out, and others who live modestly may be raking in 500K a year. No one knows because preps don't intentionally display wealth. Gossip is conducted in intimate gatherings, but not at parties. Everyone knows the dirt about everyone else, but it's never discussed at polite functions.
An explanation of my fascination with preppies
I am fascinated by preppy folk. Not only because I was brought up in their world without even knowing it until adulthood, but also because they are rather unique among our nation's various subcultures in a couple of key areas: 1. membership is usually by birthright, not by emulation, and 2. members make no conscious effort to signal to one another or to outsiders that they are members of this particular subculture. I shall elaborate on those key points later on.
"But, Improbable Cause," you may object, "you have stated before that you were excluded from this group. How can you now claim to be a part of it?" I was socialized from birth with preppy kids, but never really took them on as friends. I was too independent, intellectual, and never developed a liking or ability for athletic activities, which were a huge part of the preppy socialization process. In accordance with the cruel, primitive nature of all children, I was treated as an untrustworthy outsider for my unintentional self-exclusion. However, by virtue of my birth into a family who raised me with the same values and even partook in similar pastimes as other preps (albeit in a more economical manner), while I wasn't really treated as a prep by the rest of prepdom, I was and remain nevertheless a member by birthright.
I must take a moment to define preppy. Although rooted in the word "preparatory," referring to private schools where students were prepared to attend universities, rather than to go on to learn trades, the correct modern definition no longer requires prep school attendance. However, membership does require the full embrace of a particular set of values, among them, elegance without ostentation, comfort without sloth, individuality without alienating people (where I fell short as a child), an understanding of the relationship between cost and worth, quality over quantity, staying power over novelty, resistance to change, and respect for tradition and heritage.
Many people have corrupted the term, using it to label individuals who purchase expensive items with the primary intent being to display wealth. These same persons were not raised in an environment that instilled a value of sensible frugality, and therefore do not qualify as true preps. True preps feel no need to display their discretionary income with huge logos and items that will be passé in a year. Their accessories may be costly but turn out to be economically sound in the long run when their $80 trousers outlast three pairs of cheap slacks from Old Navy.
Certain misconceptions about true preppies also pervade the general public's consciousness. True preppies do not view themselves as superior to others, but instead wish that the rest of society could be blessed with their good taste and joie de vivre. True preppies are not all idle people of leisure who live off of dividends and inherited wealth. A lucky few are, but most work hard at day jobs that pay well but they don't necessarily love. A fortunate number of preppies such as myself earn more modest incomes, but have well-to-do families who provide fine furnishings and clothing as gifts. It can't be denied that sufficient financial means are an integral part of preppy status, but membership cannot be bought.
And now to elaborate on point #1. Entry into most subcultures can be gained at any point in life (unless dominated by a particular age group) with the acquisition of that group's visual hallmarks and the adoption, or at least profession, of that group's philosophy and values system. The preppy group deviates from this norm in that members are groomed from birth. Preps beget preps, and are socialized with other preps before they learn to walk. For that reason, this subculture is not even aware that it's a subculture because it's all they have ever known. Membership cannot be gained simply by mimicking their outward appearance, accessories, and domiciles, because in their world there is nothing distinctive about them, and they won't know you from Adam.
Regardless of his resources, emulating the preppy style will be surprisingly challenging to the outsider, who will either be unable to put aside stereotypes and snap up all the Hollister gear he can afford, or will try too hard and look metrosexual, slovenly, nouveau-riche, or just snobby. It requires a careful balance of elements that give off an overall effortless elegance, as if the wearer threw everything on in 5 minutes and could be ready in 60 seconds for a jaunt on his boat or an impromptu shag contest.
To elaborate on point #2: So many other subcultures consciously seek to broadcast membership via overt visual cues. From deerhunter camouflage to Louis Vuitton (real or fake), most members of subcultures broadcast their sense of identity to the world and know it, and actively seek out other members whom they have not yet met, often striking up conversation with total strangers based on their adherence to the group's standard of appearance. Preppies, on the other hand, seem oblivious that they are members of any group at all, because it's all they've ever known. When they spot another member, they do not even recognize that person as a member; rather, he goes completely unnoticed. I am a rare breed of preppy, in that I can spot them immediately due to a unique life experience in which I strayed from the preppy flock and observed them from the outside, and only after gaining an outsider's insight did I come back to embrace, and accept, my birthright. Preppiness is in my blood, dear reader; I have fought it off for years, but, good or bad, it's an inseparable part of what has come to define who I am.
"But, Improbable Cause," you may object, "you have stated before that you were excluded from this group. How can you now claim to be a part of it?" I was socialized from birth with preppy kids, but never really took them on as friends. I was too independent, intellectual, and never developed a liking or ability for athletic activities, which were a huge part of the preppy socialization process. In accordance with the cruel, primitive nature of all children, I was treated as an untrustworthy outsider for my unintentional self-exclusion. However, by virtue of my birth into a family who raised me with the same values and even partook in similar pastimes as other preps (albeit in a more economical manner), while I wasn't really treated as a prep by the rest of prepdom, I was and remain nevertheless a member by birthright.
I must take a moment to define preppy. Although rooted in the word "preparatory," referring to private schools where students were prepared to attend universities, rather than to go on to learn trades, the correct modern definition no longer requires prep school attendance. However, membership does require the full embrace of a particular set of values, among them, elegance without ostentation, comfort without sloth, individuality without alienating people (where I fell short as a child), an understanding of the relationship between cost and worth, quality over quantity, staying power over novelty, resistance to change, and respect for tradition and heritage.
Many people have corrupted the term, using it to label individuals who purchase expensive items with the primary intent being to display wealth. These same persons were not raised in an environment that instilled a value of sensible frugality, and therefore do not qualify as true preps. True preps feel no need to display their discretionary income with huge logos and items that will be passé in a year. Their accessories may be costly but turn out to be economically sound in the long run when their $80 trousers outlast three pairs of cheap slacks from Old Navy.
Certain misconceptions about true preppies also pervade the general public's consciousness. True preppies do not view themselves as superior to others, but instead wish that the rest of society could be blessed with their good taste and joie de vivre. True preppies are not all idle people of leisure who live off of dividends and inherited wealth. A lucky few are, but most work hard at day jobs that pay well but they don't necessarily love. A fortunate number of preppies such as myself earn more modest incomes, but have well-to-do families who provide fine furnishings and clothing as gifts. It can't be denied that sufficient financial means are an integral part of preppy status, but membership cannot be bought.
And now to elaborate on point #1. Entry into most subcultures can be gained at any point in life (unless dominated by a particular age group) with the acquisition of that group's visual hallmarks and the adoption, or at least profession, of that group's philosophy and values system. The preppy group deviates from this norm in that members are groomed from birth. Preps beget preps, and are socialized with other preps before they learn to walk. For that reason, this subculture is not even aware that it's a subculture because it's all they have ever known. Membership cannot be gained simply by mimicking their outward appearance, accessories, and domiciles, because in their world there is nothing distinctive about them, and they won't know you from Adam.
Regardless of his resources, emulating the preppy style will be surprisingly challenging to the outsider, who will either be unable to put aside stereotypes and snap up all the Hollister gear he can afford, or will try too hard and look metrosexual, slovenly, nouveau-riche, or just snobby. It requires a careful balance of elements that give off an overall effortless elegance, as if the wearer threw everything on in 5 minutes and could be ready in 60 seconds for a jaunt on his boat or an impromptu shag contest.
To elaborate on point #2: So many other subcultures consciously seek to broadcast membership via overt visual cues. From deerhunter camouflage to Louis Vuitton (real or fake), most members of subcultures broadcast their sense of identity to the world and know it, and actively seek out other members whom they have not yet met, often striking up conversation with total strangers based on their adherence to the group's standard of appearance. Preppies, on the other hand, seem oblivious that they are members of any group at all, because it's all they've ever known. When they spot another member, they do not even recognize that person as a member; rather, he goes completely unnoticed. I am a rare breed of preppy, in that I can spot them immediately due to a unique life experience in which I strayed from the preppy flock and observed them from the outside, and only after gaining an outsider's insight did I come back to embrace, and accept, my birthright. Preppiness is in my blood, dear reader; I have fought it off for years, but, good or bad, it's an inseparable part of what has come to define who I am.
Friday, March 12, 2010
The classic preppy beach experience
If you've been following this blog for a while, you already know that I have this odd fascination with "preppies," the privileged, popular, athletic, seemingly carefree folks I grew up around but never really cared to socialize with, even though, without even realizing it, I was raised in the same manner as they were, if only under more modest circumstances. Now that they've matured and I've matured and we get along more easily, I've come to accept and even embrace this unique subculture in which I was raised. So, in addition to my other ramblings, I wish to publish a series of articles all about the Preppy lifestyle. Taking a cue from my latest interior decorating plans, I'll begin with a description of the preppy beach experience.
The preppy beach house is ideally located in a quiet neighborhood in a small seaside town populated by other preppies. My family stands apart from the preppy norm in this regard because our house is in Myrtle Beach, the antithesis of the preppy seaside locale. In our defense, the house was purchased in 1941, when Myrtle Beach was just another sleepy little beach town with a few motels and isolated oceanfront cottages. We could not predict what a ghastly, sprawled-out, Yankee-infested, neon hellhole it would become, but the property itself and its furnishings adhere to the preppy standard. Designed for casual comfort and somewhat rough use, furnishings are selected with damp swimwear and sandy feet in mind. Dishware is sturdy, often mismatched, and acquired on the cheap, either from a garage sale, Wal-Mart (yes, preps do set foot in Wal-Mart), or left over from Dad's first apartment. Art is beach-themed but tasteful, perhaps painted by an artistic family member. Bookshelves are stocked with well-worn novels donated by various family members and guests, decade-old issues of Southern Living, a Scrabble game from the '40s, incomplete decks of cards, and seashells gathered by Grandmama from her daily walks on the beach. Closets contain coolers scratched up from years of being dragged through the sand, can koozies with humorous messages about being a functional alcoholic, floppy straw hats, faded golf umbrellas, a Calloway Golf rain jacket, nearly-empty bottles of liquor purchased at least 10 years ago, rusty folding chairs, and cracked but still usable sandcastle molds. And of course no two beach towels are ever identical. The fridge houses a permanent collection of condiments, tonic water, pickles, little glass bottles of Canada Dry ginger ale, and cocktail olives, all of unknown vintage. If there's a landline phone, it may still be listed under a deceased relative's name. The entire house is permeated with the odor of seawater, salt, sunscreen, and just a little mildew, a fragrance nearly impossible to replicate elsewhere.
Children spend weeks on end here in the summer with Mom, with Dad coming to visit when he takes a couple weeks off from his law firm or medical practice. Sometimes adolescents live here all summer while working at the fresh seafood restaurant down the road.
The vacation begins upon crossing the last bridge into town, when the cares of city life are symbolically cast away over the rail. The SUV, its windows decorated with European-style oval stickers that proudly proclaim the family's allegiance to the beach town, rolls into the driveway after dark, and upon exiting the vehicle, the weary travelers fill their lungs with the humid, salty air and feel instantly at peace. After scrambling to unpack everything and mildly cursing about having forgotten something, the vacationers either kick back with some refreshments and conversation, go out and party, or crash for the night.
Each day begins at the preppy beach house whenever you feel like getting up. Breakfast is picked at lazily on a breezy porch. The rest of the day is wide-open. You may just sit outside all morning, coming inside for lunch and maybe a nap, then more beach sitting until about 5 or 6. Or, if you're the sporting type, perhaps you'll take the boat out for a cruise and do some fishing, maybe stopping for lunch at a seafood joint with docks where you can park your boat and walk inside. Homemade dinners consist of local seafood and items from the nearest farmer's market, and if no one feels like cooking, there are plenty of restaurants that preppy families have been going to for decades offering delicious, moderately priced seafood, pizza, and burgers, operated by down-home people who are not preps but whose families have lived in the area for generations. Rainy days are spent napping and reading or going shopping and dining out. At night, at least in Wrightsville, you walk to the nearest watering hole, get hammered, dance the night away, and stumble back home in the wee hours.
I love the beach, and I can't help it. It's practically hereditary for preppies. A love for casual, yet gracious, beach living is passed down from generation to generation in the prep subculture, and, maintaining the preppy disdain for change, the succeeding generation enjoys the beach in exactly the same manner as its forbears.
The preppy beach house is ideally located in a quiet neighborhood in a small seaside town populated by other preppies. My family stands apart from the preppy norm in this regard because our house is in Myrtle Beach, the antithesis of the preppy seaside locale. In our defense, the house was purchased in 1941, when Myrtle Beach was just another sleepy little beach town with a few motels and isolated oceanfront cottages. We could not predict what a ghastly, sprawled-out, Yankee-infested, neon hellhole it would become, but the property itself and its furnishings adhere to the preppy standard. Designed for casual comfort and somewhat rough use, furnishings are selected with damp swimwear and sandy feet in mind. Dishware is sturdy, often mismatched, and acquired on the cheap, either from a garage sale, Wal-Mart (yes, preps do set foot in Wal-Mart), or left over from Dad's first apartment. Art is beach-themed but tasteful, perhaps painted by an artistic family member. Bookshelves are stocked with well-worn novels donated by various family members and guests, decade-old issues of Southern Living, a Scrabble game from the '40s, incomplete decks of cards, and seashells gathered by Grandmama from her daily walks on the beach. Closets contain coolers scratched up from years of being dragged through the sand, can koozies with humorous messages about being a functional alcoholic, floppy straw hats, faded golf umbrellas, a Calloway Golf rain jacket, nearly-empty bottles of liquor purchased at least 10 years ago, rusty folding chairs, and cracked but still usable sandcastle molds. And of course no two beach towels are ever identical. The fridge houses a permanent collection of condiments, tonic water, pickles, little glass bottles of Canada Dry ginger ale, and cocktail olives, all of unknown vintage. If there's a landline phone, it may still be listed under a deceased relative's name. The entire house is permeated with the odor of seawater, salt, sunscreen, and just a little mildew, a fragrance nearly impossible to replicate elsewhere.
Children spend weeks on end here in the summer with Mom, with Dad coming to visit when he takes a couple weeks off from his law firm or medical practice. Sometimes adolescents live here all summer while working at the fresh seafood restaurant down the road.
The vacation begins upon crossing the last bridge into town, when the cares of city life are symbolically cast away over the rail. The SUV, its windows decorated with European-style oval stickers that proudly proclaim the family's allegiance to the beach town, rolls into the driveway after dark, and upon exiting the vehicle, the weary travelers fill their lungs with the humid, salty air and feel instantly at peace. After scrambling to unpack everything and mildly cursing about having forgotten something, the vacationers either kick back with some refreshments and conversation, go out and party, or crash for the night.
Each day begins at the preppy beach house whenever you feel like getting up. Breakfast is picked at lazily on a breezy porch. The rest of the day is wide-open. You may just sit outside all morning, coming inside for lunch and maybe a nap, then more beach sitting until about 5 or 6. Or, if you're the sporting type, perhaps you'll take the boat out for a cruise and do some fishing, maybe stopping for lunch at a seafood joint with docks where you can park your boat and walk inside. Homemade dinners consist of local seafood and items from the nearest farmer's market, and if no one feels like cooking, there are plenty of restaurants that preppy families have been going to for decades offering delicious, moderately priced seafood, pizza, and burgers, operated by down-home people who are not preps but whose families have lived in the area for generations. Rainy days are spent napping and reading or going shopping and dining out. At night, at least in Wrightsville, you walk to the nearest watering hole, get hammered, dance the night away, and stumble back home in the wee hours.
I love the beach, and I can't help it. It's practically hereditary for preppies. A love for casual, yet gracious, beach living is passed down from generation to generation in the prep subculture, and, maintaining the preppy disdain for change, the succeeding generation enjoys the beach in exactly the same manner as its forbears.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
A quaint seaside retreat, just a quick 200 miles from the beach
Every year about this time, I get beach fever. As soon as it becomes apparent that the gloom of winter is fading away and balmier temperatures set in, I yearn to return to Wrightsville. Frustratingly, this time of year the weather is very unpredictable—one weekend it's 70 degrees and sunny, and the next it can be 55 degrees and rainy—so I must be content to live in a fantasy world for a little while. I begin to don my "Wrightsville Wear," consisting of lightweight polo shirts, light-colored chinos, my Sperry boat shoes, tasteful Polynesian shirts, and my hoodie for a layer of warmth, which I wear around our air-conditioned beach condo. It's the sort of "preppie casual" that one would have spotted on practically every respectable gentleman who strolled Lumina Avenue in the 1990s. Well, actually, most of them would have been wearing shorts. I just have an aversion to shorts rooted in my disdain for the humiliating plaid short-pants suit I was forced to wear to church when I was a toddler. Even at that young age I knew I looked like a tool.
This year, I'm afraid my delusions are creeping into home decor. While enjoying lunch on a near-perfect Sunday afternoon, my wife and I got to brainstorming ways to improve our patio. Currently it isn't much to look at—dull gray furniture, old moldy folding chaises, and a nasty old black garden hose balled up in the corner that was there when she bought the place, all on a bland concrete floor. Maybe it was the beer, but we felt compelled to go to Lowes and Target right then and there and seek out accouterments to spruce up the patio. We purchased some cheerful teal and white cushions, a pair of faux palm trees, and a new green garden hose, neatly coiled on a decorative rack. Future plans call for painting the wood fence and the patio furniture white, and getting new chaises which we'll take better care of. I'd also like to get a couple of distressed signs appropriate for the seaside atmosphere, such as "to the beach" (arrow pointing to the gate) and perhaps an advert for a seafood restaurant. The door to the adjacent storage shed will be painted to match the teal cushions, providing a little punch of color.
The interior of the house has not been spared either. A faux palm tree adds a tropical flair to the dining room, along with another in the foyer. I even plan to install plank paneling in the front hall for a beach house look, and if I get my way, paint the walls a calm blue. Now that most of the clutter has been cleared, our overall goal is to create a restful, relaxing refuge from the hurly-burly of the outside world, a place where we can kick back and almost hear the waves crashing outside. Speaking of which, I'll probably set up speakers outside to play ocean sound effects.
This year, I'm afraid my delusions are creeping into home decor. While enjoying lunch on a near-perfect Sunday afternoon, my wife and I got to brainstorming ways to improve our patio. Currently it isn't much to look at—dull gray furniture, old moldy folding chaises, and a nasty old black garden hose balled up in the corner that was there when she bought the place, all on a bland concrete floor. Maybe it was the beer, but we felt compelled to go to Lowes and Target right then and there and seek out accouterments to spruce up the patio. We purchased some cheerful teal and white cushions, a pair of faux palm trees, and a new green garden hose, neatly coiled on a decorative rack. Future plans call for painting the wood fence and the patio furniture white, and getting new chaises which we'll take better care of. I'd also like to get a couple of distressed signs appropriate for the seaside atmosphere, such as "to the beach" (arrow pointing to the gate) and perhaps an advert for a seafood restaurant. The door to the adjacent storage shed will be painted to match the teal cushions, providing a little punch of color.
The interior of the house has not been spared either. A faux palm tree adds a tropical flair to the dining room, along with another in the foyer. I even plan to install plank paneling in the front hall for a beach house look, and if I get my way, paint the walls a calm blue. Now that most of the clutter has been cleared, our overall goal is to create a restful, relaxing refuge from the hurly-burly of the outside world, a place where we can kick back and almost hear the waves crashing outside. Speaking of which, I'll probably set up speakers outside to play ocean sound effects.
Monday, March 8, 2010
...and another one bites the dust
Another salesperson got cut loose today. The guy who just got let go seemed to be doing fine, but apparently it wasn't enough. Sell more! Sell more! is all that's on The Boss's mind. I know it's important to keep the company profitable, but come on, there's only so much one person can do. A couple months ago, he canned a salesperson who had been here for several years. There's no mercy here. Do you see why I feel so tense in my workplace, where Damocles dangles his sword over every cubicle?
Might I take a moment to point out a shitty double standard that pervades the white-collar world? Employees are expected to be slavishly dedicated to their company and their superiors. Speak positively of the company in all conversations. Bring back sales leads. Give 110% in all your work. Is such loyalty ever reciprocated? Fuck no. You're a powerless serf, toiling away in a fluorescent-lit fiefdom where you can be be tossed out on your ass like last week's trash if the quality of your slaving slips just a little bit.
Might I take a moment to point out a shitty double standard that pervades the white-collar world? Employees are expected to be slavishly dedicated to their company and their superiors. Speak positively of the company in all conversations. Bring back sales leads. Give 110% in all your work. Is such loyalty ever reciprocated? Fuck no. You're a powerless serf, toiling away in a fluorescent-lit fiefdom where you can be be tossed out on your ass like last week's trash if the quality of your slaving slips just a little bit.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)