TOIST Blog
Alexandra Ivanoff
In America, it's customary to make a list of resolutions that you promise to yourself, as the old year closes and the new one opens. It's a golden opportunity for the psyche's fresh start, especially if you've made a mess somewhere in your karmic trail and need to clean up. And maybe tackle that brand new project or idea you've been postponing. Or, if you dare to be daring, pledge to wear a little less black this year.
In America, the land of giants—that would be people who have consistently overindulged at the all-you-can-eat buffet, the promise of "I will lose weight" is usually #1 on the list of to-dos, followed by joining a gym, buying an exercycle and a scale, and throwing away the boxes of cookies hiding in the back of the pantry. But whether one's list includes shedding kilos or other health-oriented self-prescribed routines or not, the process of cooking up a new collection of life directives is usually filled with good intention and infectious optimism, even if it does only last for a few weeks.
However, if we wanted to approach creating this list with less-than-optimum good will and a dollop of delicious derision, we could take a cue from Victorian England's musical comedy creators, Gilbert & Sullivan. In their famous operetta 'The Mikado', the character Koko has a comic song in which he sings "I've Got a Little List" of people he considers "society offenders" and who, if executed, "would not be missed" (get the rhyme?). It lampoons political figures, societal miscreants, and fashion disasters alike. Let's see, whom could we knock off and rejoice in their absence from the globe...
In the same satirical vein, the late American doyen of fashion faux pas, Mr. Blackwell, used to publish a yearly list of people whom he considered to be the "10 Worst-Dressed". He would invite the press to his Hollywood mansion on the 2nd of every January, feed everyone a lavish breakfast, then dramatically announce in front of the cameras his annual list of those celebrities' dressing habits he chose to skewer. From the 1960s until his death last year, he scored headlines with his scorching verbal assassinations, dubbing himself "the worst bitch in the world" as he crowned England's Camilla Parker-Bowles as "the Duchess of Dowdy" and a reigning Miss America as "an armadillo with corn pads." He called Madonna "the bare-bottomed bore of Babylon", and of Bjork: "she dances in the dark—and dresses there too".
Similar invective is also used by television host David Letterman on his nightly chat show, "Top Ten List". I, along with millions of other viewers, eagerly await this sassy satire, which nails the nabobs in the news, the plethora of polluted politics, and the odiferous offal of clueless celebrities. His team of brilliant comedy writers gets my personal prize for the quickest and cleverest list-making on the planet. Sometimes their hilarious solutions to current dilemmas are not altogether so absurd. Example: "Top ten features of the rejected $700 billion bailout" — #9: "If this bailout fails, promise of another $700 billion bailout to bailout the bailout."
Irreverently or not, it's fun to think of all the things I'd like to accomplish in 2009. So what will I do this year to assure I don't inadvertently place myself on Koko's and Blackwell's mythical lists of decorous dodos or Letterman's Top Ten idiot awards? Or merely escape my own hell of avoidable errors? Here are my Top Ten resolutions for a reasonably sane and fairly fashionable 2009:
1) I will stop screaming internally, causing my blood pressure to rise, when I am trying unsuccessfully to pass a trio of people walking arm-in-arm at a snail's pace on the sidewalk.
2) I will remember to delete private personal comments and other scathing or potentially libellous texts when I Forward someone else's email.
3) I will organize the 500 (or so) little pieces of paper and other dusty detritus on my desk. Uh-huh.
4) I will do my laundry weekly instead of every two months when my only choice for clean clothes, sheets and towels is to go shopping.
5) I will stop imagining that I can personally nuke the knuckleheads who throw giant plastic coke bottles into the Bosphorus.
6) I will stop imagining that I can personally nuke the knuckleheads who think I'm a prostitute because I'm walking on the street by myself.
7) I'll do Spell-Check beofre I hit Send.
8) I will not use a credit card, at all, for anything, I swear.
9) I will lose weight (it had to be here, you know) by drinking less beer and more water.
10) In order to be a real radical, I will wear less black.
I've Got a Little List For 2009
Alexandra Ivanoff
In America, it's customary to make a list of resolutions that you promise to yourself, as the old year closes and the new one opens. It's a golden opportunity for the psyche's fresh start, especially if you've made a mess somewhere in your karmic trail and need to clean up. And maybe tackle that brand new project or idea you've been postponing. Or, if you dare to be daring, pledge to wear a little less black this year.
In America, the land of giants—that would be people who have consistently overindulged at the all-you-can-eat buffet, the promise of "I will lose weight" is usually #1 on the list of to-dos, followed by joining a gym, buying an exercycle and a scale, and throwing away the boxes of cookies hiding in the back of the pantry. But whether one's list includes shedding kilos or other health-oriented self-prescribed routines or not, the process of cooking up a new collection of life directives is usually filled with good intention and infectious optimism, even if it does only last for a few weeks.
However, if we wanted to approach creating this list with less-than-optimum good will and a dollop of delicious derision, we could take a cue from Victorian England's musical comedy creators, Gilbert & Sullivan. In their famous operetta 'The Mikado', the character Koko has a comic song in which he sings "I've Got a Little List" of people he considers "society offenders" and who, if executed, "would not be missed" (get the rhyme?). It lampoons political figures, societal miscreants, and fashion disasters alike. Let's see, whom could we knock off and rejoice in their absence from the globe...
In the same satirical vein, the late American doyen of fashion faux pas, Mr. Blackwell, used to publish a yearly list of people whom he considered to be the "10 Worst-Dressed". He would invite the press to his Hollywood mansion on the 2nd of every January, feed everyone a lavish breakfast, then dramatically announce in front of the cameras his annual list of those celebrities' dressing habits he chose to skewer. From the 1960s until his death last year, he scored headlines with his scorching verbal assassinations, dubbing himself "the worst bitch in the world" as he crowned England's Camilla Parker-Bowles as "the Duchess of Dowdy" and a reigning Miss America as "an armadillo with corn pads." He called Madonna "the bare-bottomed bore of Babylon", and of Bjork: "she dances in the dark—and dresses there too".
Similar invective is also used by television host David Letterman on his nightly chat show, "Top Ten List". I, along with millions of other viewers, eagerly await this sassy satire, which nails the nabobs in the news, the plethora of polluted politics, and the odiferous offal of clueless celebrities. His team of brilliant comedy writers gets my personal prize for the quickest and cleverest list-making on the planet. Sometimes their hilarious solutions to current dilemmas are not altogether so absurd. Example: "Top ten features of the rejected $700 billion bailout" — #9: "If this bailout fails, promise of another $700 billion bailout to bailout the bailout."
Irreverently or not, it's fun to think of all the things I'd like to accomplish in 2009. So what will I do this year to assure I don't inadvertently place myself on Koko's and Blackwell's mythical lists of decorous dodos or Letterman's Top Ten idiot awards? Or merely escape my own hell of avoidable errors? Here are my Top Ten resolutions for a reasonably sane and fairly fashionable 2009:
1) I will stop screaming internally, causing my blood pressure to rise, when I am trying unsuccessfully to pass a trio of people walking arm-in-arm at a snail's pace on the sidewalk.
2) I will remember to delete private personal comments and other scathing or potentially libellous texts when I Forward someone else's email.
3) I will organize the 500 (or so) little pieces of paper and other dusty detritus on my desk. Uh-huh.
4) I will do my laundry weekly instead of every two months when my only choice for clean clothes, sheets and towels is to go shopping.
5) I will stop imagining that I can personally nuke the knuckleheads who throw giant plastic coke bottles into the Bosphorus.
6) I will stop imagining that I can personally nuke the knuckleheads who think I'm a prostitute because I'm walking on the street by myself.
7) I'll do Spell-Check beofre I hit Send.
8) I will not use a credit card, at all, for anything, I swear.
9) I will lose weight (it had to be here, you know) by drinking less beer and more water.
10) In order to be a real radical, I will wear less black.