Off the Marc

I work a scant few blocks away from the Marc Jacobs mini-empire over on Bleecker St., which alongside the zillion-dollar shoes and bags stocks a pretty astonishing quantity of really cheap (like, in quality and in price) objets emblazoned with some sort of Marc or MJ or MMJ or whatever logo that makes me completely convinced that yes it is totally worth it to spend fifteen bucks on a canvas tote bag (which, admittedly has a silkscreen of a dinosaur emerging from a phone booth, which makes it worth it anyway) or eleven on a pair of flip-flops because geographically speaking the Marc store is closer than J.Crew and the flip-flops are cheaper than J.Crew's anyway so, god, Mr. B should just stop poking fun of my increasingly snob-branded accessories already goddamnit.

Anyways, in the stores they sell these t-shirts that feature naked celebrities with slogans like "protect your largest asset" or "cover your ass." The shirts are sold to benefit skin cancer awareness, and were I the sort of person who was into wearing tshirts with naked celebrities on them, I would totally own one or possibly several. But as it happens as of the time of this writing I am not quite that sort of person (No, I might actually be that sort of person, actually, now that I think about it) so I do not, as yet, own any of these t-shirts.

But on If It's Hip It's Here they did this roundup of all the shirts, just so you could check out Selma Blair's tater tots (there is a totally nsfw area of pixels on or near Dita Von Teese, bee tee dubs). And two things struck me when I made it down to Robert Duffy:

First: holy crap the guy is ripped. Look at that back muscle! That is the sort of muscle that a nine-year-old boy notices in his comic books and so starts adding to his own drawings of overly-muscled men and feels proud of himself for having paid attention to (like how I felt in 2nd grade when I discovered how to draw cheekbones by using slanty lines).

Second: This is wrong. Wrongy wrong wrong wrong.

Let me note here, for the record, that I am the sort of person who, when asked what she'd do if she won a million dollars in the lottery, would first take into account that about $550,000 of that would go to taxes. So being that sort of person, when I have dreams of being spotted on the street for my truly astonishingly amazing personal style of jeans and a cardigan, my imagination does not arrange for this to happen by The Sartorialist or Karl Lagerfeld or even Mr. Jacobs himself. In my mind, I am discovered by Robert Duffy, who is the business side of the MJ empire and someone who I think is awesome. So it is not with, like, schadenfreudian glee that I note that Robert looks totally photoshop-of-horrorsed here.

This notion was corroborated when I scrolled down a bit to the "hot anonymous dudes" section of the tshirts, and found a guy whose name reliably ends with -ico(note the sleeve), so here we have Rico or Nico or Serpico:

The man looks, you know, normal. Not normal in the "most people's bodies look like this" sense (because: not in my world). Rather, normal in the sense of his head was not photoshopped onto someone else's body and the designer accidentally kept the head a little too big and it looks sort of wrong. Like has happened to certain people who might or might not be the business brain of a fashion-and-lifestyle behemoth that likes to put its employees, naked, on t-shirts, to benefit skin cancer awareness.

Points for the skin-matching, though. I'm sure Frederico/Calico/Mexico completely appreciates how effectively his muscled physique was whitened to match the face of his literal corporate overlord.

Also, perhaps sadly, none of this will in the slightest deter me from buying future $1 Marc Jacobs rat-shaped keychains by the bucketload every time I need to impress people I don't like by buying them designery gifts. Or by lusting over the shoes. Or possibly buying one of the naked-Eva-Mendes tshirts. Because she is hot. Etc.

1 comment:

RW said...

Wow when I first looked at your blog real fast I said "what's Helen doing with my picture?"