Today during lunch we were talking about style, and one of the gang opined that if only he was incredibly rich, he’d have more style.
I disagreed: you don’t need money to have style. Having money doesn’t give you style.
We all know someone that can’t rub two cents together and yet somehow manages to always be the hippest person in the room. A similarly compelling proof that money can’t buy you class can be found by looking at the in-crowd at last weekend’s Monaco Grand Prix. The richest people in the world gather to be seen not watching a race. And, oh merde, are these people ugly. Not just a surface ugly, but a deep, abiding ugly that goes all the way to the bone.
Cash is nice. But it’s not the solution to all your problems. It’s a catalyst; a magnifying glass. If you have poor taste in clothes, having a sackful of cash just lets you have poor taste in expensive clothes.
Bill Cosby had a comedy routine where he was talking to someone about cocaine, who said “I love cocaine because it intensifies your personality.” To which Cosby replied “Yes, but what if you’re an asshole?”
It’s a good question. And watching the Id Parade slouch its way through the streets of Monte Carlo, we see it answered.
Style is subjective. Cash is a scalar. You might not be able to convince people that your clothes are cool, but nobody can doubt the numbers on your bank statement.
The people who I’ve seen lose the most respect for money are those who aren’t making what they are worth and don’t want the stress of fixing that.
Money changes everything, love changes everything, and kids change everything.
Ugly is also subjective. Do you really want to know what would happen if you went face-to-face with those rich people on amihotornot.com?
Don’t say things because they make you feel good. Find the problems, the root problems, and try to solve them. Try to get other people interested in solving them. Hubris kills through indifference.
There is no substitute for good taste – except one: inimitable personal style.
There are people who dress very strangely, but they are being themselves and no one but. (ex: Johnny Depp, Cher)
Then there are people who can carry off damn near anything because they carry themselves all “god-damn-I-look-AWESOME”. (ex: George Clooney, Jerry Hall)
And then there are the clones. Maybe they dress themselves, maybe they have a stylist – who knows? But they look, not like they are themselves, but like they are playing a role. Sometimes, they fear being excluded if they wear the wrong thing.
Give me personality any day. If you have personality, it’s easy to develop yourself a style: you just need to figure out what clothes fit your skin. (OK. Maybe that’s not easy. But that’s what people like me exist for: to drag people who need help in that area to stores and figure it out.)