STOCK ITEMS

As you’ve probably heard, we’ve recently had to let go Alan. He’s no longer part of the STOCK ITEMS crew, and we wish him good luck with whatever he’s set out to pursue next. I think it’s important to stress that he left on amicable terms. As our lives are under constant scrutiny of the world’s rugged casual menswear press, we seem to attract a lot of haters who’re trying to destroy my brand through nasty rumors.

Just now there’s one rumor going round saying I fired Alan because of his little faux pas with Keisuke back in Tokyo, which of course is completely fabricated and bears no truth whatsoever. Anyway, with the workload being high as ever, another trip to Japan in the planning phase, and a few more super-secret collaborations with Asian people on the way, we’re looking to hire someone to replace him.

So we’ve set up this spare room we had to act as our guerrilla, pop-up human resource department. I personally curated the layout of the interior design. Smack in the middle of the room, I put our seven foot wide, heavy wooden desk we found on the street. It’s wide enough to fit us three hunky men behind it.

Right now, we’re waiting for this guy Preston to arrive for his job interview. Chad, Tony, and I are busy with the final preparations of the room. It’s a nice, classic human resource layout. Dunno whether you’ve seen the hilarious Life’s Too Short yet, but my curation is similar to the setup Ricky Gervais had in his office where Warrick Davis was constantly dropping by. Oh boy, just thinking about Life’s Too Short has me in stitches again. That scene with Johnny Depp was pure genius. Definitely Ricky Gervais’ best work to date. I think the more involved with Hollywood he gets, the edgier he becomes. Getting to know a lot of movie stars seems to have pushed him on a higher artistic level.

BZZZZZZ.

Oops, there goes the door buzzer. That should be Preston. Chad and Tony rush into the room, and we scramble to our seats behind the desk. I take seat in the middle, with the guys guarding the flanks. Everybody makes a serious face, about the same expression we use when we take pictures of ourselves. I push the “Open door” button on this remote controlled door lock we had installed especially for the interviews. We hear the door open, and someone entering the corridor in front of the office. It’s around a corner, so we can’t see him yet.

“Hello?”, we hear someone say.

“Hello, Preston?”, I respond.

“Yeah, it’s me, Preston. Where are you guys?”

“We’re right here. Second door on the left.” We hear his footsteps coming closer.

“Okay, this seems to be the bathroom…” Preston says. We chuckle.

“No no, it’s the second door!”, I say, a little louder. Chad and Tony are struggling to put on a serious expression.

The sound of footsteps again. There he is, knocking on the open door. I get up, walk around the desk, and extend my arm for a handshake. He’s got a nice, firm grip. Good. I can tell he’s really making an effort to hold eye contact with me. Like, in a creepy way. Probably some advice he read on Lifehacker. As he approaches the desk to greet Chad and Tony, I get a good chance to check out his look. He’s wearing an Engineered Garments Olive Bird Shooter from a few years back, a pair of raw denim jeans, and some brogues I can’t immediately identify. Everything is well worn in, and the Bird Shooter even has that worn out button hole which I love so much. Preston sure did his homework. I take a closer look at his butt. Judging from the pocket arcs, I can tell he’s wearing a 2010 Burgus Plus Lot #770 jeans. A nice pair of Japanese denim, but quite a bit cheaper than your Sugar Canes or your Warehouses. I like this choice. Going into a job interview in Burgus Plus rather than in a pair of Samurais is comparable to rolling in with a vintage Jeep Wrangler instead of a maxed out Range Rover. Stylish and classy, but not in-your-face oneupmanship. By choosing the humble route for his interview denim, he is showing me he’s still a down-to-earth guy. Someone who’s still hungry, still seeing areas to improve, able to accept a place low in the hierarchy, and fight his way up from there. Boom. I’m impressed. We all take our seats. Preston looks a little nervous. Part of me wants to say something funny to loosen up the situation a bit, but nothing comes to mind. So I decide to start with the questions.

“Okay Preston, let’s go right to the interview then,” I hear myself say. This is new for me as well. That’s why I prepared a few questions in advance

“Imagine you were running a window cleaning business, and the mayor of Seattle came to you and said, ‘how much do you charge to clean all the windows in Seattle?’, what amount would you quote him? You’ve got one minute to answer.”

Preston looks really dumbfounded.

“Okay, so you want me to calculate an estimate for cleaning all the windows in Seattle, right?”

He obviously is trying to buy time.

“That is correct,” I insist, poker faced and all. I can tell he’s struggling with the answer.

“Let me see. First of all, I’d get the current population number of Seattle and just suppose every person has about one room with a window. Of course, there are also living rooms with windows which are shared, but those will get canceled out by bathrooms and such with no windows at all. Then I’d add fifty percent to that number, because I estimate that percentage of the population is at another place during daytime, like an office with a window, so those people have two windows to clean. Let’s say I charge three bucks for one window pane, I’d calculate the number of people in Seattle times one point five, times three to get a rough idea.”

Preston makes a face like he’s done with his answer.

“Do you want to add anything to your answer? You didn’t give us an actual figure yet,” I say.

“Oh, but I explained how I would approach this kind of problem in a pragmatic fashion, as I thought you surely weren’t looking for an actual dollar amount as this is an unrealistic scenario anyway?”

“We did expect to get an amount from you. You kinda dodged giving us a number by talking about bathrooms and living rooms and people and stuff.”

“Oh…but isn’t this actually a pretty famous interview question which the guys at Google use in their interviews, you know, to assess if the interviewee is able to keep calm and come up with a practical approach to an unsolvable problem? You did get that question from the internet, right?”

“I don’t think we did. Right, Chad?” I look to Chad.

“Uh. No. I mean Yes. I thought that up myself yesterday evening,” Chad says.

“Chad says he thought it up himself yesterday evening,” I say, “and the answer required to contain an actual total price.”

“I don’t think that’s how…well, if you say so,” Preston mumbles, visibly annoyed.

“Hey, Preston, no worries. It happens to the best of us,” I say, trying to get his spirits up, “ready for the next question? Should be an easy one.”

“Sure.”

“Here we go: What is the best way to wear patterns in the summer?”

Preston looks puzzled again.

“Do you mean, any pattern, or a specific pattern, like Camo, or…”

“Sorry, no counter questions please,” I interrupt him.

“So, this is more like a trivia quiz than a job interview then?” he says.

“That’s a question directly related to the tasks you’d have to do if we employ you. I gave you all the information you need, you just need to connect the dots,” I say.

“Best way to wear patterns in the summer…”

I can almost hear his synapses overload. This is fun.

“Okay, the best way to wear patterns in the summer is to make sure they aren’t too dark and dominant, keep things on the light side,” he finally answers.

I push the door button. BZZZZZ.

“Did you hear that? It means, ‘sorry, wrong answer’. Chad, can you give us the correct answer, please?”

Chad is reading out loud from the sheet I prepared for him: “The best way to wear patterns in the summer is…with shorts or pants.”

“With shorts or pants,” I repeat.

Preston looks a bit angry now.

“It’s so obvious when you hear it, right?” I ask him.

“It’s just that, the way the question was put, I didn’t think you were looking for such a specific answer.”

Now I’m starting to get annoyed with him.

“Look Preston, we won’t get far if you keep nitpicking the questions we ask you. Don’t over-think your answers. Try to think like we do, you know, ask yourself, ‘how would a curator answer that question’ and work it from there. Being able to think outside the box is an absolute must-have in our profession. Do you need a break?”

“No, I don’t need a break. Let’s continue,” he says.

“Alright then. I’d like to ask you a personal question. What do you usually do on the internet?”

“Uh. Nothing special, I guess. Check Twitter, read a few blogs, chat a little with the guys on the Greenwich Barber…”

“The Greenwich what?” I ask.

“The Greenwich Barber,” he says.

“Oh, I never knew you were into hairdressing,” I say, pretending to study his job application on the desk.

“That’s just the name. Actually, it’s quite interesting, a bunch of guys chatting about clothes, football, and such. Thematically, it’s very close to what you guys do…”

“I highly doubt that is the case,” I interrupt him.

“No, really, they like the same stuff that you guys feature on your site. Clothing mainly.”

“So you think our site is mainly about clothing?”

“Well, yes.”

I’m really angry at Preston now. Ever since he came in, he’s been giving us this attitude that we supposedly don’t know what we’re doing, and now he even has the nerve to put us in the same category as a bunch of middle aged English guys getting pissed on weekdays and chatting about fucking Six-Eight-Seven-Six jackets on some backwater forum nobody important has ever fucking heard of.

“Then I have to assume that you haven’t really made your homework and do not understand what STOCK ITEMS really is about,” I say, raising my voice.

“It’s about clothing, no?”

“No, Preston, it’s not about clothing. Oh god, where do I start…well first of all, I’m glad you came in today so we can resolve your little, how do I put it, misunderstanding.”

He’s listening, looking startled.

“You see, the clothing items we write about, those are really not of any significance to us. We use those posts about clothing as bait, plain and simple.”

“Bait?” Preston asks.

“Exactly. The truth is, and I think I speak for all members of the STOCK ITEMS family, that we, on a personal and spiritual level, have long transcended all worldly desire to write about trivial matters like clothing, mouse pads, or camping cutlery. Rather, we feel it is our obligation to use our elevated curating abilities for the advancement of art and culture. Don’t say you didn’t notice the great writing about things like photography, art exhibitions, and architecture that we recently put up?”

“Well, I did notice them, but to be honest, I usually skip those. I don’t know, they always feel a bit random to me.”

“Random, huh? Let me tell you then, that randomness you feel is totally on purpose. It is our way of curating culture. Big ideas by great thinkers. That happen to look awesome in black and white photos.”

“So you are like dilettante artists?” Preston asks.

“That’s not for us to judge, but if you insist on an answer, then yes, I think what we do is art. That’s why I was talking about bait. Whenever we write about a new Visvim plimsole coming out, or some Alden collab taking place, that’s simply a lure for all those lost souls out there in the depths of the internet trying to find an identity through external, materialistic means. We get them to the site, give them a little of what they want, but it’s really just pretense to get them interested in art and culture and stuff. I am but a vessel through which culture flows.”

There’s silence now, which makes that last sentence sort of echo around in the room, adding even more gravitas to it. A nice, light feeling encompasses me.

“Huh,” Preston finally says, looking like he’s just woken up from a long sleep, “I never knew you guys were so deep. It’s a bit intimidating, to be honest. Can I ask you a question?“

“Sure,” I say.

“That position you are looking to fill, what would be the primary responsibilities?”

“As you can imagine, especially with the deep insight I just gave you, we’re becoming increasingly occupied with visiting art exhibitions and screening the coffee table book market. That means we’ll need someone to keep up with the Japanese online stores to check for nice new stuff to update the site with.”

“I see. Sounds fun.”

“Fun he said. That’s cute. Be assured, it’s not fun. It’s one of the most serious jobs in the whole blogosphere. It requires you to be up all night because of the time difference to Japan. If there’s a new item on Silver and Gold, for example, even a few minutes can mean a big difference. We rather not blog about something if we can’t be the first ones to do so. We have a reputation to maintain here.”

“Wow. Okay. Anything else I would need to do?”

“The other area of responsibility is keeping an eye on the haters.”

“Yeah, I saw you attract some pretty mean comments lately.”

“Oh, we like to think about it more in terms of ‘any press is good press’. They give us an opportunity to show what a relaxed, easy-going bunch of people we really are.”

“I don’t think I can follow,” Preston says.

“We make it so the joke is on them haters,” Tony chimes in.

“What he means is, we pick up some of those unfortunate comments, and integrate them in our own writing, you know, to show off their ridiculousness. It’s a genius move really. A bit like Kanye dating Kim Kardashian,” I explain.

“In what way?” Preston asks.

“You know, just like with us, there’s a lot of people out there saying mean things about Kanye, like, he’s a douche, or he’s a moron, or he’d be the perfect match for a ditz like Kim Kardashian?”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. But because he’s a total genius, he counters his critics by doing exactly what they expect, like dating a Kardashian. He outsmarted everybody.”

“I’m not sure I understand the reasoning behind that strategy,” Preston says, “because doing so, he both reaffirmed his critics and he’s now stuck with Kim Kardashian.”

Damn. This Preston guy really thinks on his feet. I can’t come up with a witty reply fast enough. Maybe it’s because it’s getting late and I’m craving a latte. But I can’t let him win this argument.

“Okay, let me give you another example. Do you know that Eminem movie, 8 mile?”

“Another hip hop analogy…yes I’ve seen the movie.”

“Then you’ve learned Eminem comes from a dysfunctional family and lived in a trailer and stuff. And when he’s competing in the rap battles, the other rappers always get the upper hand, dissing his family, and shitting over his private life, right?”

“Right…”

“But one day, he realizes that the only way to win these rap battles is to come out clean, you know, rap about himself, thereby taking the wind out of the haters.”

“Take the wind out,” Preston repeats.

“Exactly. So you think you can do that when we hire you? Be brutally honest, turn a supposed weakness into a huge advantage?”

“Uh, if that’s the strategy, sure, why not.”

“That’s great, Preston. I guess we’re done for today. What we’ll do is see a few other people, and let you know next week if you got the job.”

“Don’t call us, we’ll call you,” Tony says.

“Got it. Thanks guys. It was a pleasure meeting you. I’d be really happy to work here. I won’t disappoint you.”

“Of course, Preston. Now if you’ll excuse us, we have to prepare the next interview.”

“I’m gone.”

“Take care, man.”

He gets up and walks out. When we hear the door click into the lock, all three of us simultaneously lean back and let out a big sigh.

“Boy, that was real work,” I say.

“It sure was, Shachou.”

“How many people have we left to interview?”

Tony looks at the schedule.

“Okay, we got your girlfriend coming in tomorrow…”

“Yeah but I already said she won’t get the job because I can’t have my girlfriend working here for obvious reasons. Who else?”

“Apart from your girlfriend, there’s no one.”

“What? Only two people applied? Didn’t you say you got flooded with applications?”

“I thought I did, but when I went through them in detail, I realized they were fakes. People gave names like Bobcat Dickstein. I think it was them haters putting us on again.”

“So only Preston and my girlfriend applied? Come on guys, you have to work harder than that. We’re an internationally known brand. Stylish young men should be crawling over each other to work for us.”

“Of course Shachou. Right on it, Shachou,” Tony says.

“Be serious for fuck’s sake. Chad, get me a latte please. I have to be on the Silver and Gold website in fifteen minutes, because there is no one in this fucking office that knows how to write a paragraph about ripstop fatigue shorts.”

Chad and Tony take off. I lean back and study the tiles on the ceiling. To be honest, I didn’t like that Preston guy. Not one bit. What a shitty day this has turned out to be. I might have to pull the trigger on that nice navy MHL jacket later on. But it’s lined so I won’t be able to wear it before fall. Argh. I think I just need a nice hot soak tonight. Maybe I’ll splurge and use that expensive bath salt I brought back from Japan. Yeah, that’ll probably do the trick.

✳ 6876 ✳ 8 mile ✳ Alden ✳ Burgus Plus ✳ Daiki Suzuki ✳ Eminem ✳ Engineered Garments ✳ Japan ✳ Jeep ✳ Kanye ✳ Kardashian ✳ Kimye ✳ Life's too short ✳ Longwing ✳ MHL ✳ Range Rover ✳ Ricky Gervais ✳ S2W8 ✳ Samurai Denim ✳ Silver And Gold ✳ Stephen Merchant ✳ Sugar Cane ✳ The Greenwich Barber ✳ The Rig Out ✳ Tokyo ✳ Visvim ✳ Warwick Davis ✳ Wrangler ✳ Johnny Depp 

Of all the magazines ever printed in this vast universe, which in the many-minds theory is in itself just one possible reality in an endless number of parallel realities, this one has something about it that’s alright. It’s the renewal issue of Japanese seminal publication “Popeye”, and it really made our eyes pop (aren’t we a funny bunch?) out of our perfectly rugged casual eye sockets. I love it because it’s fierce, I love it because it’s fabulous. But I also love it rough, and Popeye #782 is just that: WAIRUDO DA ROU and also WAIRUDO DA SE. I love it. I like it. Rough. Wild. Nice. The issue’s theme is “City Boy’s ABC”, and it’s a restart for Popeye, which now has the subtitle “Magazine for City Boys” which I think is a huge improvement in terms of catchiness over its former subtitle “Product catalogue for 20-something Japanese narcissists wasting their trust fund on conspicuous consumption in western Tokyo”. It’s freshability feels unpredicted. Get it quick, because I feel it might revolutionize the world of publishing come fall.

(Source: magazineworld.jp)

✳ Popeye ✳ Magazine for City Boys ✳ 782 ✳ Fall ✳ Japan ✳ Tokyo ✳ シティボーイ特集 

• fig. 1 - Shirt (Engineered Garments × Dice&Dice)
• fig. 2 - Jacket (Engineered Garments × Dice&Dice)
• fig. 3 - Shorts (Engineered Garments × Dice&Dice)
• fig. 4 - Sweater (Engineered Garments × Dice&Dice)
• fig. 5 - Boots (Engineered Garments × Dice&Dice)

Normally I don’t get too excited for fall before April, but with the advent of this mother load of Engineered Garments Work Shirts in a multitude of particularly nice colors, I can’t help it. This means I can finally make my wildest dream come true: A full outfit curated exclusively from EG Work Shirts. Whether it’s the town who’ll see me carrying a few kilos of firewood around in it, doing a couple of lines of blow backstage at the Drake show, or fixing the garden hose, these will help me admire myself in the mirror whenever such a busy day allows it.

Despite being iconic stand-alone pieces on their own rights, they always often seem to work well together, and the mix-and-match nature of the materials feels particularly nice to get me in the mood for fall. These are available exclusively from Dice&Dice in Japan, which we had the pleasure of paying a nice visit to during our trip last fall.

✳ Engineered Garments ✳ Daiki Suzuki ✳ Japan ✳ Tokyo ✳ Work shirt ✳ EG ✳ Look ✳ Dice&Dice 

March 15th, 2012 will mark a new era of publication publishing. On this date, the latest issue of Brutus Magazine, the legendary publication will come out, and the specifications are nothing but breathtaking. It opens from the right, is printed on paper made from a nice percentage of real, natural wood, and it also has a nice heft to it. The theme of this issue is “new prep standard”, which is also reflected nicely in it’s cover copy, surprisingly reading “new prep standard”. There are many beautiful men spreading in the editorials, but it is the especially nice “Engineered Garments” editorial which grabbed our attention.

✳ Gibberish ✳ Japan ✳ Kanji ✳ Tokyo ✳ Engineered Garments ✳ Fall ✳ Preppy ✳ Brutus ✳ Mag ✳ Publications ✳ Engineered Garments 

With fall around the corner after the next, and so many socks on the scene, it’s always often nice that climate sees its temperatures rising into the going-outside-feel-close-now territory. Countless women (yuck) have asked us where we usually buy our Limited Engineered Garments S/S 2012 Popover BD shirts from, and this year sees us faced with a selection of materials and patterns that is especially broad. Now, plaid shirts don’t usually get much traffic from our bodies around these shores, but these limited editions Daiki curated for some Japanese shops seem especially rare and full of hardship for you to purchase, so of course the construction and attention to detail will see a lot of mentioning traffic around these shores. Who cares if you wear them to that ambitious evening class, weekend soccer-ish activity, or grabbing a nice latte with the “girlfriend.” Nice.

(Source: nepenthes.co.jp)

✳ Engineered Garments ✳ Pretension ✳ Daiki Suzuki ✳ Fall ✳ Shirts ✳ Popover ✳ Nepenthes 

It’s another busy Monday morning. My muscles are still aching from the big match yesterday, and I’d usually start off such a day with a good coffee and a preliminary analysis of the new items at the Silver And Gold website, but something is different today.

The other guys are already in, and they’re standing around the meeting table, entangled in a heated discussion. They don’t even notice me. I pause my iPod and nonchalantly throw my new SS2012 EG Angler over the backrest of my vintage Eames chair. As I approach the guys, the object of their excitement enters my view. On the table, there’s a wooden piece of furniture I’ve never seen before. It’s about fifteen inches wide and deep, but no obvious function could be deducted from its V-like shape. Chad notices me first.

“Hey Bryan!” he goes, prompting the other crew members to stop talking and turn towards me.

“Yo guys, what’s all the excitement about? Did Alan get his period?” I joke.

“No, that’s not it. We were talking about this bookshelf that got delivered by Fedex today.”

“I was wondering what that thing is. Who’s this from?”

“Remember Eran from California we met at Pity? He’s just started his own shop and asks for a mention on the blog,” Alan says, sober as always.

I take a closer look at the bookshelf. It’s made from plywood, which always is a big letdown, but the design looks especially interesting. Not Dieter-Rams-level-interesting, but if we get the lighting right, it could look good on the website.

“We should curate an aesthetic for it and take a handful of snaps to see if it fits in on STOCK ITEMS,” I say.

“Like, how?” Tony asks.

“Place it by the window and put a handful of books on it.” I marvel at myself how I just entered the office but already are at the top of my creative game. Feels great.

I go to my desk to fetch my Leica. As I come back, Chad and Tony look worried.

“Come on, put the books in it,” I direct them.

“We tried to, but they won’t fit!”

Tony takes his stack of books and demonstrates how they don’t fit into the shelf. Obviously they are too big.

“Have you tried smaller books?” I ask them.

“These are the smallest we could find.”

I look at their selection. A handful of nice design and architecture coffee table books we brought back from Japan.

“Don’t we have any wordy books here?” I say.

“Wordy books?” they ask me, both at the same time, in perfect sync.

“Right. Like written books. With no photos in them. You know, like literature. Those are usually smaller.”

They both just stare at me. I sense this is going over their heads. Suddenly, I remember I still have a handful of smaller books in my desk. I get them and put them on the shelf. Chad and Tony follow my every movement like two cats watching a Tennis match. There, done. The books fit perfectly. Chad and Tony look really happy now, going “whoohoo,” and we exchange high-fives.

Alan approaches. He had been watching us curate the book shelf this whole time, but hadn’t said anything.

“Bryan, can I talk to you for a second?”

“Sure thing,” I say, still busy exchanging high-fives with Chad and Tony.

“Do you really want to show off these books on STOCK ITEMS?”

“Yeah - why not? Look at how the cover textures work nicely with the wooden shelf.”

“They do, but I am a bit worried about the titles. They might use them against us.”

“Why,” I laugh, “what’s wrong with them?”

He goes through the titles.

“‘Doll House’ by Kim Kardashian. ’Raising Kanye: Life Lessons from the Mother of a Hip-Hop Superstar’, written by Kanye West’s mother…”

“Yeah, so what?” I insist.

“Well, I am sure you did an excellent job choosing the best texture of the paper and the nicest cover illustrations, but I fear the haters will have a field day when they see these books on our site. You know how they always suspect us to be shallow narcissists who just pretend to be interested in art and stuff?”

“But these books have truly inspired me. How can it be wrong to want to read about the background of really successful people? How are they different from the Steve Jobs book,” I say.

“I don’t know Bryan, I still think it would be better to use real literature. Make it bullet proof, you know?”

I frown. Is it really so bad to be interested in Kanye’s past? Okay, the Kardashians do act shallow sometimes, but then again, isn’t everybody talking about them? Like my girlfriend. She follows everything they do. Does Alan think my girlfriend is shallow? Damn. Now he’s done it again. Putting doubts in my head. I guess I need to go with my instinct, which is telling me that I usually can trust Alan with the intellectual stuff. Evolution didn’t make him good looking so it must have made him clever. You can usually trust evolution to balance shit out.

“Okay, Alan. Maybe you’re right. How about we call this Eran guy and find out what he would recommend for that shelf? He’s the guy who made it so he should know which books go with it, right?”

“Good idea, let’s do that,” Alan says.

I pick up my 4S and dial the number on the letter Eran sent with the shelf. What time is it now in Cali? Ah, fuck it, this needs to be done now. After a handful of rings, he picks up.

“Hello?”

“Hello, is this Eran, the bookshelf guy?” I ask.

“Speaking. Who is this?”

“Bryan from STOCK ITEMS.”

“Ah, hey Bryan, what’s up?”

“Oh, totally busy as always. Running from meeting to meeting, you know.”

“That’s good. So things are working out for you, yeah? Ha ha.”

“Yeah. Ha ha.”

“I suppose you’re calling about the shelf?”

“Right. Listen, we’re now considering it for the website…”

“Thank you!”

“Yeah, and we were just having a meeting about, you know, how to curate it in the best possible way, like what books would be good for it…”

“Awesome.”

“Excuse me?” I say.

“I mean it’s awesome that you guys think like me. Like, not just fill the shelf with some random books, but really put some thought into it.”

“Well, we prefer a carefully curated look…”

“Great. You know what, Bryan, there are so many haters out there who think it’s superficial to care about the aesthetics of reading. But you know what. That luxury of sitting in a nice reading chair, inhaling the scent from the inside of a paperback from 1954. The ever-teasing, mysteriously luring promise of twelve good, heavy books in a coarsely woven jute tote bag. The never-ceasing amazement of one page turning to another page, over and over again. All that is lost on those smug, intellectual assholes who only judge a book by its content.”

“Uhm. Well, I sure like my books to look good.”

“Exactly. Look Bryan, it’s been ace talking to you, but I got some pasta to drain here.”

“Oh, but what books would you recommend? Eran? Eran?”

“Did he hang up?” Alan asks.

I look at the 4S. The call has ended.

“He did. But he had some pasta cooking, so I can’t call him again.”

“Did he recommend any books?”

“Uhm, sort of. Alright then, let’s go book shopping!”

After taking turns carefully adjusting our wardrobe in front of the huge wooden framed mirror, we’re off.

It’s raining hard, so we take the bus to the city center. Alan says he remembers he once saw a bookstore there that’s specializing in real literature. I usually get all my books from Tsutaya in Daikanyama so it will be my first time going to such a specialist bookstore. I’m nervous.

We arrive and walk in. Tony’s immediately drawn to this huge coffee-table book about rich people’s houses, so I grab his arm and drag him in. We look around. A couple of clerks are busy sorting stuff into displays. All chubby, all somehow lesbian looking, even the men, and all are wearing thick-rimmed glasses that are not even Moscot Lemtoshes.

I walk up to one of the clerks. A nerdy, thirty-something guy with a Beatles haircut and really narrow shoulders. He looks like he knows his books. I don’t feel comfortable in this environment.

“Hey man, you guys have paperbacks from 1954?” I start.

“Sorry?” he goes.

“Like good, heavy books. Real literature.”

“We sure do. Do you have any authors or titles in mind?”

“Uh…not really. You know, like books you would read when getting your photo taken sitting in a nice reading chair? And that will fit into a S2W8 tote bag?”

The guy just looks at me, irritated. He clearly expects me to say something. I turn to Alan.

“This isn’t working,” I say to him under my breath. He steps up to the clerk.

“We usually buy all our stuff in Japan so it would be nice if you could show us some books which are popular with your more discerning customers,” he says. “It would be great if they also came in a nicely textured cover or had an interesting illustration on them.”

“Is this for some kind of movie production?” the clerk asks.

“Yeah, so to speak. You know, we have this cool bookshelf and we want to fill it with books that will look great on photos. Like, real literature,” I clarify.

“Why don’t you just grab a couple of books from the one-dollar bin by the entrance then? Those are all real literature.”

I turn to Alan.

“What should we do?”

“I don’t know. But I’m not so sure if we should just use some random books. That could backfire.”

“Right. We have to curate the whole thing. There’s no way around it.”

I suddenly have an idea. Why not have Eran talk to the clerk and explain what we need? I whip out the 4S and tap to redial Eran’s number. He should be finished with his pasta by now.

“Hello?”

“Eran, it’s Bryan again.”

“Hey man, what’s up?”

“Okay listen. We’re in a bookstore now, looking to buy some books for the shelf. But as we didn’t make that shelf, it’s really hard to explain what we need.”

“Okaayy…”

“So we thought you could talk to the clerk and give him some ideas what we’re looking for.”

“What, like right now? Look, I don’t know…”

I turn to the clerk, who had been listening to our conversation.

“Here, this is Eran. He’s really good with books and stuff. He can explain what we want,” I say, putting the 4S in speaker mode and holding it up so we can all hear what’s being said.

The clerk reluctantly says: “Hello, this is Bookworm books, Christopher speaking.”

I can hardly suppress LOLing when I hear his nerdy-ass name.

“Eran here. Listen, Chris. I make modernist bookshelves, okay? Do you have any Richard Serra novels? That’s the stuff these guys need. It’s not rocket science,” Eran says in a really cocky way.

“Uh, sure. But your friends only said they needed some good looking books to fill a book shelf, I suppose one you made, so I told them to just get a bunch from the dollar bin. No need to pay for expensive books if they’re just used for showing off anyway.”

“Showing off?” Eran sounds really pissed now.

“Here’s some news for you, Christopher. Writers like Richard Serra happen to coincide with modernist design and architecture. The furniture and architecture one reads in is absolutely essential to the experience. But I guess you’re right. All that is lost on a underfucked idiot asshole bookstore clerk like you, you smug piece of shit.”

Christopher’s face is turning very red now. Alan and I glance at our Vibergs in embarrassment. Eran is not finished yet.

“You know what, maybe you should read a book or two before you accuse other people of showing off simply by trying to buy a book that looks nice in a modernist bookshelf, you prick.”

That’s enough. I switch off the speaker. Eran is still screaming abuse at Christopher, so I try to calm him down by speaking into the lower end of the 4S without holding it up to my ear.

“Eran? Can you hear me? Hey, it’s Bryan now.”

The screaming stops. I hold the phone to my ear. There’s some heavy panting on the other end.

“Eran?”

“Bryan…is that you?”

“Yeah, just me.”

“Oh, okay…sorry man. I didn’t mean to make a scene. I don’t know what got hold of me there. I’m just so tired of these smug, well-read assholes. Guys like him are the reason I started my own shop, actually.”

“It’s all good, man. Don’t worry. So should we pick up some books by this Richard Sierra guy then?”

“Yeah, Serra will go nicely with the shelf. Him and also…oh shit, now my nose is bleeding. I gotta go. Talk you later.”

The call ends. Christopher is still standing next to us. I’d expect him to be angry now, but instead he’s giving us this amused look.

“Can you show us the Richard Sierra floor, please?” I ask him.

“Sure. Well, he doesn’t have his own floor actually. Please follow me.”

He walks us to the other end of the store, and points to the Richard Sierra section.

“There it is.”

“Alright! Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. If you have any more questions, I’ll be over there.”

“Great man, thanks again.”

I start to take out the Richard Sierra books, one by one. Just by looking at them, you’d never be able to tell they were good books. Very plain looking, with no special texture or interesting color to them. The title typography is solid, but nothing to call home about. Just as I’m about to give up, my finger tips experience a familiar feeling. The sensation of soft, Horween Color 8 leather. I look at the book in my hands. I am holding Richard Sierra’s “Tilted Arc” book. I open it. It’s a wordy book. Perfect.

“What is this thing?” Alan asks.

“Alan, I don’t know. But this feels wonderful. And it has no pictures.”

“Let’s see it from behind.”

I turn the book around. It reads “Special Leather Bound Edition.”

“Bryan, this looks like Alden…”

“Horween Color 8 leather, I know Alan, I know.”

We look at each other and totally know what each other is thinking: This store is so much better than the Shibuya Tokyu Hands department store.

“There’s six more copies left,” Alan says.

“We will buy them all. Come on, help me carry them!”

We walk to the cashier, pay for the books, and leave the store.

Outside, we put them into the S2W8 tote bag we brought. We still can’t believe the catch we just made.

“I’m so pumped right now. Let’s go to the space and take the pictures.” I say, bursting with energy.

We get on the bus back to the office. I sit down on a single seat and put the S2W8 tote bag on my lap. It’s a twenty minute journey. I grab on to the tote bag really tightly. The musky odor coming from the leather-clad books is titillating, robbing me of my senses. The bus makes its bumpy ride over cobblestoned streets. The lascivious heft of the books inside the tote bag feels really good on my upper thighs. With every bump on the road, the tote bag nudges a bit further up, towards my crotch, sending heavenly tingles through my whole body.

“Oh baby…stop,” I moan. I look around, embarrassed. Did anyone notice? Maybe not. That was close.

I look at the books in my tote bag. They look back at me as if nothing happened. Those naughty little books. Looking all good and ready in their tight, Horween leather dresses. But I can’t give in to my feelings. Not now, here in the public eye. The bus stops. A handful of people get off, allowing the chilly fall air to enter. I finally manage to cool down and lean back in my seat.

“So, this is literature,” I contemplate in quiet, longing euphoria as the bus makes its way through the afternoon rush hour.

✳ Pitti ✳ Richard Serra ✳ Tilted Arc ✳ Japan ✳ Kanye ✳ Kim Kardashian ✳ Viberg ✳ Daikanyama ✳ Tsutaya ✳ Engineered Garments ✳ Alden ✳ Horween ✳ Book porn ✳ Bookshelf ✳ Modernist ✳ Design ✳ S2W8 ✳ Nepenthes ✳ Tote bag ✳ iPhone ✳ Apple