Being an occasional reader of Bike Snob NYC, I'm invariably amused by his repeated excoriation of Portland as the Capitol of Smugness. Not that the entire population is insufferable, but most Portlanders, about eight million of them, seem to be one way or other engaged in the fair trade coffee industry, boutique brewing, bicycle frame building, or making expensively drab "urban hipster" clothing without which Portlanders cannot possibly ride their bicycles or pursue any of the activities aforementioned. (The rest of them are all respectably employed fabricating hammered aluminum bicycle fenders, portageur racks, leather-clad coffee mugs and hand-sewn waxed cotton saddle bags.) Portlanders are just self-congratulatory enough to believe that, were any of these pursuits trammeled or hindered, the world as we know it would cease. Anyway, the Snob's Portlandic epic aroused my curiosity sufficiently to dumpster-dive some of the Portland-based commercial and trade websites to see what was on offer. It seems that marketing very expensive bikes and urban hipster bike clothes to nonemployed trust fund dependents has sparked a renaissance in the American vernacular.
In Madison Avenue's Golden Age, advertising wasn't expected to be true, but it was expected to be comprehensible and expressed in standard English. There was nothing exceptionable about saying, for example . . .
. . . it just had to sound snappy and remain stolidly intractible to the empirical method. The exclamation point carried a good deal of the verve and force of the Madison Avenue style.
By contrast, the incomprehensible maunderings of the current web ad copyists drip with the self-important, autobiographizing moral aggrandizement reserved to those whose every epic deed averts a grave planetary wobble. From deep in the garment district, Nonetheless offers "The Urban Traveler . . . . an invite program that brings together our friends and family of like mind. It's a collaborative that breathes authentic life utilizing word, picture, sound, film, and innovation. The Urban Traveler shares experiences of substance, creativity, enlightenment, knowledge, approach, passion, context, vision, and discovery."
This is about completely unimaginative clothes, remember. An ad for Outlier, a sister ragmaker, breathlessly intones,
In Madison Avenue's Golden Age, advertising wasn't expected to be true, but it was expected to be comprehensible and expressed in standard English. There was nothing exceptionable about saying, for example . . .
. . . it just had to sound snappy and remain stolidly intractible to the empirical method. The exclamation point carried a good deal of the verve and force of the Madison Avenue style.
By contrast, the incomprehensible maunderings of the current web ad copyists drip with the self-important, autobiographizing moral aggrandizement reserved to those whose every epic deed averts a grave planetary wobble. From deep in the garment district, Nonetheless offers "The Urban Traveler . . . . an invite program that brings together our friends and family of like mind. It's a collaborative that breathes authentic life utilizing word, picture, sound, film, and innovation. The Urban Traveler shares experiences of substance, creativity, enlightenment, knowledge, approach, passion, context, vision, and discovery."
This is about completely unimaginative clothes, remember. An ad for Outlier, a sister ragmaker, breathlessly intones,
"The sun is rising, the air clear, the city unfolds below you as you reach the top of the bridge. Your legs are spinning fast, heart pumping, maybe you are sweating just a touch. It's a magical feeling of exhilaration and liberation that comes from riding a bike in a city. Inside trains, humans are imitating sardines, while drivers stall and stew in their own exhaust. The cyclist however is completely free, in motion, almost flying, a huge smile wiped across their face. . . . a world where bikes are a part of your daily life. At the core, Outlier clothing is about a certain freedom. A freedom to ride, regardless of the destination. You should always look like you belong inside the city, not just out on the road pedaling. . . . Our garments are designed to make getting to that freedom just a little bit easier.
"In many ways Outlier is a child of the Garment District. When we started this company neither of us really knew how to make clothing. . . .
"We believe in strong communities and we see both our production people and our customers as an integral part of our personal community. We are here to build a long lasting company dedicated to quality. Quality in our product of course, and also quality in how we relate to the world. We treat people fairly and we treat our environment like it's not just our home, but the home we want our grandchildren to ride their bikes in."
Taken together, this drivel incorporates all the elements of the New School of Ad Copy. These elements are, first, that what is on offer is never merely a product; it is a "program," a "collaborative" that is always "about" something other than what you thought you were looking for or needed - clothing, in this instance. Buy this and you get Transcendence as well.
Transcendence
Second, you are already one of a group apart. "Outlier clothing is about a certain freedom. . . .You should always look like you belong inside the city, not just out on the road pedaling - where you probably should be if you're on a bike. You're not one of those un-free sardines on the commuter train, not one of the rubes along the road you wouldn't be caught dead on, so to speak. You are hipper than everyone, among them but not of them. And, although it's unpleasant to admit, if you're on a bicycle you're also way down among 'em, "stewing" in everyone else's exhaust.
Third, like you, they don't have a clue about what they're doing. "When we started this company neither of us really knew how to make clothing. . . ." which , while probably faultlessly honest, is a disclaimer sufficient to encourage me to shop elsewhere if the complete want of style weren't already enough. "We're no experts, therefore we must be good at it," parses about as well as the cogitations of a Tea Party economic theorist.
Fourth, spending a considerable amount of your trust money with us is really the best and easiest way you can get a life - an "authentic life utilizing word, picture, sound, film, and innovation. The Urban Traveler shares experiences of substance, creativity, enlightenment, knowledge, approach, passion, context, vision, and discovery." You made it, you belong, you're never bored any longer, and you can tell who your friends are because they look exactly like you. Now you have a life and it's being recorded in multimedia.
Finally, in purchasing these little bijoux for what they ask, you are doing your part to create "strong" "personal" "community" where everyone is treated respectfully and fairly and they all work together to treat the environment respectfully and fairly and . . . and . . . oh, it's just all so breathless and uplifting.
Uplift this urban hipster
More about bicycles tomorrow. I've got to start up the old Chevrolet, pick up a carton of Camel straights and a quart of crankcase oil, and make it home in time to watch John Cameron Swayze on the "Camel News Caravan." I'm nothing if not brand loyal.
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