The boy and I have been watching Mad Men. A lot. We recently purchased a flat-screen t.v. The most adult purchase in our relationship, thus far (Thanks Mamajama, Pops, Donna, Charles, Trula and Bill!). We decided, since we need a new dvd player anyway, to get a blu-ray player. There really isn't a huge point to buying a blu-ray player if you don't have some blu-rays to play...This is where Mad Men came in, they were on sale so we bought the first three seasons...Needless to say we were a little behind on the bandwagon, but we have significantly caught up in the past few weeks.
I am in a bit of a whirlwind love affair with this show. A tumultuous, sordid love affair. The one that you know probably won't last, but you can't bring yourself to quit. If you like vintage, the show is orgasmic. This is probably not new information to anyone. The show is also frustrating, for many reasons that a women's studies major (Miami University 2008! Go Redhawks!) might divulge in during an essay on how the media and the glamorization of a certain time period can continue and encourage certain stereotypes, body images, etc. Take your favorite feminist issue and you can probably tie in Mad Men. Since I would rather just enjoy the show, I will ignore all my natural feminist inclinations to have critical discourse and just say, "oh that's lovely."
Moving on to the reasons why I love this show. The suits, the afternoon whiskeys, the shape of the women, it is an endless array of sensations to be experienced, as much as one can experience things through their television. It is just such a pretty show. It is constant eye-candy. And that is as much a compliment to the producers, directors and cinematographer as it is to the actors in the show.
This show makes me want to day drink. And I don't mean that in a depressed, sitting in your room all alone sort of way. I want to have a moment in the afternoon to relax, sip on something, feel the weight of an old-fashioned whiskey glass in my hand, as I ponder whatever task I am attempting to solve that particular day. I want to wear red lipstick (more than I already do). I want certain pleasures to be slowed down.
Has anyone ever gone to a show, to see an opera or a ballet or play? You get all dressed up (an event in and of itself), go a little early and have drinks before-hand. Maybe make some reservations someplace swanky for after the show. Walking into the Theater house is exciting. The boy is wearing a suit (and boy does he know how to wear a suit) and you feel sexy, heels and something satiny on. And then there are such jarring moments that knock you out of this experience. Like intermission. Watching Mad Men, one might think that during the show, you have time to powder your nose (I don't actually powder my nose, but well you know what I mean), reapply said red lipstick, grab a cocktail in the lounge, make some new friends (get casually invited to model for Coca-Cola), but one would be oh so wrong. Intermission these days means fighting your way out of your seats, waiting in the long line to the women's room, hoping that the men's line is shorter so that he will be done before you to grab some more wine in a little plastic cup, before you meet back in your seat just as the lights are going back down. Dear lord, slow it down. Its not like we scheduled anything else for the evening. The was sort of the main course. We don't mind having a little moment to process things. To keep this experience up.
I feel like this might be my secondary motto: I am a just a girl in search of a vintage life and what does that mean exactly? Well, today it means having experiences. I don't want to do something just to move closer to the next thing. I want everything to slow down. Working through lunch when you are busy is fine, as long as you take your time when you can and don't get so wrapped up in a routine that grabbing something on the go becomes the norm. I will let Mad Men show me all the pleasures that can be had, if you simply take your time and savor everyday moments.
