Downsize of course!

The New Yorker Magazine is one of my fav reads when it comes to what’s currently going on in the city (it is also the inspiration for MG’s font as well, kids! ;-). And for those of us who perform the stiletto-to-asphalt trot on a daily basis, NYM’s New York Metro Section gives us a good breakdown on what’s hot in the social, night and especially the single scene. I would imagine all three are pretty much synonyms at this point, no?

Anywho, back in Feb ’02, NY Metro did a piece for Single in New York. It included various charts, graphs and explanations on why the dating scene, even back then – post 911 – was so bleh. One article that def caught my eye was –

Or in today’s case, after the Economic Meltdown. Seriously, everything the article had said about the former, new-moneyed set back then, is happening now. Huh.

FYI: I normally wouldn’t reference an article so dated, but really now, how relatable was this piece for today’s single scene…? COMPLETELY! Cah-ray-zee.

Most of the article breaks down the formerly over-achieving, but currently unemployed, power-hungry male’s dating life…now that his PNL is red all over…apparently personality is now at the top of his list – along with lunches (instead of dinners), happy hour dates & movie nights. One part of the article reminded me of CB the Cheapie:

“Dave hadn’t had time to run to the ATM after treating Rachel to a lobster dinner at Docks, so he asked her to throw in $5. “I was like, ‘Yeah,’ but I didn’t like it,” says Rachel. “Dave always talked about how much money he was making, so I was like, ‘Why is he asking me for $5?’ “

Ahh, memories…

But, my fav part was when the article reversed the scenario by giving us a glimpse into the mind frame of a single NYC chick whose eyes were focused on her prize… aka her ‘Mr. Big‘ –

“On a recent Friday night, Sascha, a petite 25-year-old blonde in a $400 Donna Karan top, is parked in front of the velvet rope outside Pangea so the bouncer can get a better look at her. “I wouldn’t date a guy who’s unemployed right now, period,” she says. “I won’t just settle for a guy who’s nice and treats me well — I want to have a good life.” Weekend after weekend, she pulls on her Sigerson Morrison boots, applies makeup between her breasts to enhance her cleavage, and hits upscale clubs like Bungalow 8 and Lotus. When a guy hits on her, the first thing she does is check out what he’s wearing — his shoes, his watch. Then maybe she’ll allow him to buy her a drink, or else she’ll give him the Look.

The last time Sascha was at Pangea, she stepped outside to check her voice mail and a tall, blond Italian guy told her she was beautiful. On the way back in, she gave him a playful tap with her handbag. They started to dance, and he asked her out. “Right away, I’m thinking, ‘Who is this guy? What does he do?’ ” she says. “He wouldn’t tell me, but I was like, ‘Fuck it, he’s cute, I’ll go out with him.’ ” The next night, they returned to Pangea, where a friend of Sascha’s recognized her date — as a waiter at the Park. “I was like, ‘It’s over,’ ” says Sascha. “I went back to him and said, ‘I know what you do.’ I’m sorry, but I have ambitions in life. I can’t date a fucking waiter. I have a friend who’s unemployed right now who always wants to take me out, and I’m like, ‘No, you can’t afford me.’ “

Takes Serious Guts to be that whoriffic ;->

kissies,