Affairs of the Underground

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Photography: Andre Kertesz | La Fourchette, 1928

Photography: Andre Kertesz | La Fourchette, 1928

I have always found the sound of cutlery on a plate soothing. It probably has something to do with my childhood and the summers by the lake spent falling asleep under the shade of a tree while my parents had lunch in the distance.

As it so happens, today on the way home from work, eyes closed listening to the tracks in meditation, my thoughts were interrupted by the distinct sound of cutlery ever so gracefully scratching the surface of a ceramic plate. I immediately drifted into solitude, only to realize that the sound was both completely out of context and place. I listened intently, only to have it continue. There was no mistaking its intention.

In all actuality I didn’t search the cart for the elegant diner, however I did become distinctly aware of our vulnerability while in transit. We are neither here nor there, in transition, going from one place to another leaving us most open to such sensory experiences and to the breaking of boarders. A shared moment and space in transition is an interesting thing to observe and contemplate. And yes, I got here from there. Sometimes that’s just the way the mind works. -tM

The Fashion Hustle

Photography: Richard Sandler | NYC, 1980s

I have a bone of contention, it is that of the work "uniform," if you can even call it that these days. I ride the public transit to get to my job, and over the years, I have sadly witnessed the work ensemble casually disappear into an abyss of black leggings and flip flops or sneakers for women;  denim, and if you are lucky some wrinkled button down shirt for men.

Instead of briefcases the men carry these cross body lap top bags that they received as a bonus gift at Best Buy, and women are using (and might I add with pride) their Longchamp nylon grocery bag as a purse.

Folks I ask you, where is the pride and dignity in our presentation? What happened to dressing appropriately for the work that you do?  There is no way all of these women are fitness instructors and these men are working at the Best Buy.

Sometimes I just want to cry. I want to cry because I don't know where to look for inspiration anymore. Riding the public transit used to be this incredible experience in diversity of fashion and style, whether it be work wear or street style and yet now there is no differentiation.

I swear, sometimes people are just to lazy to even run a brush through their hair. Between that, and the leggings, the crop tops, the pompoms and hand sanitizer hanging off of their bags, I am embarrassed that for such a diverse and vibrant city, with such kind and wonderful people that this is how we represent.

Something's gotta give, employers need to start demanding their employees dress appropriately, if for any reason it is really starting to irritate me. -tM