Michael Davidow's Blog: The Henry Bell Project - Posts Tagged "j-crew"
I and Thou
I started this blog to augment my author’s page on the Goodreads website; then I added it to my Amazon author’s page. Then I recreated it on the Wordpress platform, where three friendly guys have since pressed the “like” button on an entry called “Mad Man.” That was where I mentioned Matthew Weiner’s Mad Men, the AMC television show. That fact stands out to me. Nothing else has produced such an effect.
So in a shameless attempt to market my work accordingly, here is a brand new entry in which I helpfully compare Don Draper to Henry Bell. I am somewhat handicapped in doing so, because I have still never seen Mad Men. But you can learn a lot about it, by reading the news.
Don Draper is the handsome lead character in a glossy soap opera seen and loved by millions. Henry Bell is the burly lead character in a literary novel known to around five people in New Hampshire, Boston, and Washington, D.C. (there is also someone in Los Angeles). Early on, he is described as the “ant” to another ad-man’s “grasshopper.”
Don and his friends seem to drink a lot, but I’m not sure what (there’s an awful lot of discussion out there about how to make “Mad Men” cocktails). Henry drinks scotch, because he’s a Republican (as for his friends: Bertie drinks bourbon, because he’s a Democrat; Walton drinks tequila, because he’s from California; and Pooch drinks anything, because he’s an alcoholic).
Don seems to have some problem with his wife. Henry loves Paula, in spite of their being divorced.
Don has some other existential crisis going on, too, which seems to manifest itself in various shades of sex and wardrobe changes. Henry’s existential crisis has something to do with Ecclesiastes and the work of Thomas Kuhn.
J. Crew is marketing a line of clothing based on Don and his friends. Henry wears the same grey suit in nearly every scene, and I don’t think Peterson’s neckties survived 1973.
Don is haunted by his time in Korea. Henry fought in Italy, where he attempted to avoid getting the clap.
The actor who plays Don shows up on a lot of magazine covers. When I think about who could possibly play Henry, I think about Sterling Hayden, and Bill Holden. Then I wake up, and I go to work.
And I should probably end with this: Mad Men was created by some forty-something Jewish guy who was born in Baltimore, and who really liked the sixties. SPLIT THIRTY was written by some forty-something Jewish guy who was born in Boston, and who really liked the seventies. He wishes Matthew Weiner well. Perhaps they will meet someday.
So in a shameless attempt to market my work accordingly, here is a brand new entry in which I helpfully compare Don Draper to Henry Bell. I am somewhat handicapped in doing so, because I have still never seen Mad Men. But you can learn a lot about it, by reading the news.
Don Draper is the handsome lead character in a glossy soap opera seen and loved by millions. Henry Bell is the burly lead character in a literary novel known to around five people in New Hampshire, Boston, and Washington, D.C. (there is also someone in Los Angeles). Early on, he is described as the “ant” to another ad-man’s “grasshopper.”
Don and his friends seem to drink a lot, but I’m not sure what (there’s an awful lot of discussion out there about how to make “Mad Men” cocktails). Henry drinks scotch, because he’s a Republican (as for his friends: Bertie drinks bourbon, because he’s a Democrat; Walton drinks tequila, because he’s from California; and Pooch drinks anything, because he’s an alcoholic).
Don seems to have some problem with his wife. Henry loves Paula, in spite of their being divorced.
Don has some other existential crisis going on, too, which seems to manifest itself in various shades of sex and wardrobe changes. Henry’s existential crisis has something to do with Ecclesiastes and the work of Thomas Kuhn.
J. Crew is marketing a line of clothing based on Don and his friends. Henry wears the same grey suit in nearly every scene, and I don’t think Peterson’s neckties survived 1973.
Don is haunted by his time in Korea. Henry fought in Italy, where he attempted to avoid getting the clap.
The actor who plays Don shows up on a lot of magazine covers. When I think about who could possibly play Henry, I think about Sterling Hayden, and Bill Holden. Then I wake up, and I go to work.
And I should probably end with this: Mad Men was created by some forty-something Jewish guy who was born in Baltimore, and who really liked the sixties. SPLIT THIRTY was written by some forty-something Jewish guy who was born in Boston, and who really liked the seventies. He wishes Matthew Weiner well. Perhaps they will meet someday.
Get the Look
His hair was long but neat, his moustache long but trim. He wore bell-bottom denim pants, an open-necked, silver-threaded shirt, and a Navajo medallion strung on rawhide twine across his chest.
No, that’s not Henry. That’s the guy who sells marijuana at the antique store down the street from Walton’s office. But it’s all about fashion these days, and I would hate to think that the stalwart crew at the Fifty-Ninth Madison Committee to Re-Elect the President would disappoint any potential readers in that regard, especially when you can now easily purchase your "Mad Men" bona fides at J. Crews and Banana Republics all across this nation.
So here’s Henry himself: “Heavyset, five-foot-ten, dressed in a grey suit, with white shirt, slim dark tie, and silver tie clip; he was almost burly, almost truculent-seeming, but for nut-brown eyes that glittered with wit, covered by eyeglasses made from thick black plastic, that he could slap on and off his face to notable effect.” Not sure where you can get those nut-brown eyes, except to say that my father had them, and yours might have had them, too.
So if that’s too hard, you can also try the Pacinetti approach: “Shirt sleeves with precocious cuff links, that stuck out too many inches from the pipecleaner arms of a loudly-patterned suit; soiled Hush Puppies on his feet; a mop of black hair like an electric guitar player might have.”
Or better yet, channel your inner Walton: “He was tall and handsome in tight-fitting trousers, nonchalantly paired with a gold-buttoned blazer; those pointy shoes turned out to be cowboy boots, too. They went with long sideburns, an untrained thatch of auburn hair, a natural suntan, and an angular western face betraying the barest beginnings of middle age.”
But honestly, these are just suggestions. Fashion is a way of expressing yourself; just like painting, just like writing. Try to have fun with it, then. Try to uplift your fellow man. And don’t just follow a recipe, either. Follow Selma Kahn’s recipe.
Because according to Bell -- she had style. “Not exactly a beauty queen. But style to spare. She could make a party dress from tin foil and bubble gum.” Her secret was pretty simple, too: she stole her hats from Bergdorf Goodman.
No, that’s not Henry. That’s the guy who sells marijuana at the antique store down the street from Walton’s office. But it’s all about fashion these days, and I would hate to think that the stalwart crew at the Fifty-Ninth Madison Committee to Re-Elect the President would disappoint any potential readers in that regard, especially when you can now easily purchase your "Mad Men" bona fides at J. Crews and Banana Republics all across this nation.
So here’s Henry himself: “Heavyset, five-foot-ten, dressed in a grey suit, with white shirt, slim dark tie, and silver tie clip; he was almost burly, almost truculent-seeming, but for nut-brown eyes that glittered with wit, covered by eyeglasses made from thick black plastic, that he could slap on and off his face to notable effect.” Not sure where you can get those nut-brown eyes, except to say that my father had them, and yours might have had them, too.
So if that’s too hard, you can also try the Pacinetti approach: “Shirt sleeves with precocious cuff links, that stuck out too many inches from the pipecleaner arms of a loudly-patterned suit; soiled Hush Puppies on his feet; a mop of black hair like an electric guitar player might have.”
Or better yet, channel your inner Walton: “He was tall and handsome in tight-fitting trousers, nonchalantly paired with a gold-buttoned blazer; those pointy shoes turned out to be cowboy boots, too. They went with long sideburns, an untrained thatch of auburn hair, a natural suntan, and an angular western face betraying the barest beginnings of middle age.”
But honestly, these are just suggestions. Fashion is a way of expressing yourself; just like painting, just like writing. Try to have fun with it, then. Try to uplift your fellow man. And don’t just follow a recipe, either. Follow Selma Kahn’s recipe.
Because according to Bell -- she had style. “Not exactly a beauty queen. But style to spare. She could make a party dress from tin foil and bubble gum.” Her secret was pretty simple, too: she stole her hats from Bergdorf Goodman.
