Here at OC, we are struck by how often we end up in everyday conundrums. The ones that land you in the thick of semi (or full-blown) awkwardness, or maybe, the doghouse.
So, we turned to Simon Collins, the dean of the School of Fashion at Parsons, who after six years in his plum perch, just announced plans to step down at the end of this year. Translation: More time to talk about the rise of "hate gifts."
Q: This time of year is full of awkward moments. For instance: How do you solve the, "You got me a gift, how sweet! I didn't get you anything" conundrum?
I’ll go one step further. How about the, “You got me a (truly awful) gift (which I hate), how sweet,” conundrum.
Let’s start with the obvious. If someone you actually like gets you a gift and you didn’t get them one, immediately 'fess up and admit it. Then make it right by getting them something thoughtful and lovely, and maybe some flowers for their partner or a toy for their kid. Better that than some shoddy lie about "not remembering to bring it," etc. Honesty will win here.
But, now it gets interesting. If someone you don’t particularly care for gets you a gift, it’s probably for ulterior motives: to make you feel bad, or to worm their way into your affections. In both cases, the intention is unsound, so tailor your response accordingly. When it happens to me, I like to make a donation—in the donor’s name—to a worthy charity that they don’t support. For example, if they’re a banker, then perhaps food for the homeless.
To add yet another layer: I’ve noticed of late the rise of "hate gifts." That is, giving something to someone simply because you know they will both hate it and feel obliged to pretend to like it and even use it, all to save face. I’m convinced that parents do this when their children get married. (Mum: “We’ll give this hideous picture to Jimmy now that he’s married that awful Sarah, that’ll teach her.”)
I like to practice a particular smile for this situation. Whether giving or receiving, adopt a narrow-eyed sneer, then bare your teeth and raise the corners of your mouth. I recently heard this described as "grin-fucking," which is pretty apt.
Q: Trying to sleep on planes is legitimately one of the hardest things to do. Any tips?
I honestly don’t see the problem. I fly the long haul from New York a dozen times a year and I actively look forward to the journey. I arrive at the airport and polish off a crafty half-bottle of [insert preferred alcoholic beverage here] before boarding. While waiting for take-off, the flight attendant can be relied upon to fill my outstretched hand with a further glass of bubbly. Once in the air, I get to catch up on crap TV and have an entirely decent dinner accompanied by more bubbly and a splash or two of claret. After dessert and cheese, and perhaps the slightest indication of brandy, purely as a digestif of course, then it’s time for the land of nod. What could be easier?
Oh, hang on. You mean trying to sleep in the back of the plane? I well remember those days and grim they were, too. The only thing that springs to mind is the tip I once heard for those who are scared to fly. The night
So, we turned to Simon Collins, the dean of the School of Fashion at Parsons, who after six years in his plum perch, just announced plans to step down at the end of this year. Translation: More time to talk about the rise of "hate gifts."
Q: This time of year is full of awkward moments. For instance: How do you solve the, "You got me a gift, how sweet! I didn't get you anything" conundrum?
I’ll go one step further. How about the, “You got me a (truly awful) gift (which I hate), how sweet,” conundrum.
Let’s start with the obvious. If someone you actually like gets you a gift and you didn’t get them one, immediately 'fess up and admit it. Then make it right by getting them something thoughtful and lovely, and maybe some flowers for their partner or a toy for their kid. Better that than some shoddy lie about "not remembering to bring it," etc. Honesty will win here.
But, now it gets interesting. If someone you don’t particularly care for gets you a gift, it’s probably for ulterior motives: to make you feel bad, or to worm their way into your affections. In both cases, the intention is unsound, so tailor your response accordingly. When it happens to me, I like to make a donation—in the donor’s name—to a worthy charity that they don’t support. For example, if they’re a banker, then perhaps food for the homeless.
To add yet another layer: I’ve noticed of late the rise of "hate gifts." That is, giving something to someone simply because you know they will both hate it and feel obliged to pretend to like it and even use it, all to save face. I’m convinced that parents do this when their children get married. (Mum: “We’ll give this hideous picture to Jimmy now that he’s married that awful Sarah, that’ll teach her.”)
I like to practice a particular smile for this situation. Whether giving or receiving, adopt a narrow-eyed sneer, then bare your teeth and raise the corners of your mouth. I recently heard this described as "grin-fucking," which is pretty apt.
Q: Trying to sleep on planes is legitimately one of the hardest things to do. Any tips?
I honestly don’t see the problem. I fly the long haul from New York a dozen times a year and I actively look forward to the journey. I arrive at the airport and polish off a crafty half-bottle of [insert preferred alcoholic beverage here] before boarding. While waiting for take-off, the flight attendant can be relied upon to fill my outstretched hand with a further glass of bubbly. Once in the air, I get to catch up on crap TV and have an entirely decent dinner accompanied by more bubbly and a splash or two of claret. After dessert and cheese, and perhaps the slightest indication of brandy, purely as a digestif of course, then it’s time for the land of nod. What could be easier?
Oh, hang on. You mean trying to sleep in the back of the plane? I well remember those days and grim they were, too. The only thing that springs to mind is the tip I once heard for those who are scared to fly. The night