It’s sad to hear that the cuffed pants, no-see-em socks and visible-ankles look might be going away. It was, in this writer’s opinion, one of guys’ better looks. And we’ve had some looks over the years, haven’t we?
Who could forget bleached tips? Or cargo shorts? Or pleated pants? Laugh all you want at that last one, but it could be coming back with a vengeance in a year or so. Personally, my least favorite might’ve been v-neck T-shirts. That was one of those styles that, at the time, you thought was totally awesome, but now that you’re a little older and wiser you realize made you look less like Chris Hemsworth, and more like Chris Penn (rip).
Eh, whatever. Chris Hemsworth is lame anyways.
“The Last Gasp: Scumming It in the Few Bars in America Where You Can Still (Secretly) Smoke”
Since famed Surgeon General C. Everett Koop released his seminal 1986 report titled “The Health Consequences of Involuntary Smoking,” America has been on a fast track to outlawing all smoking in bars. Currently, 28 states have total bans on smoking in all-indoor workplaces, another 12 states have semi-total bans and Illinois is the lone state to have banned smoking indoors outright. That said, there are still bars skirting the rules, and for patrons, employees and ownership, the laissez faire approach to lighting up inside comes with some significant headaches. READ MORE
Call the Fire Brigade
Of the nearly 30,000 fire departments in the U.S., 83 percent are “all” or “mostly” volunteer. C. Brian Smith traveled to Bodega, a small town north of San Francisco with a population of 500, to commune with the farmers, bar owners and coffee-shop waitresses manning hoses at the Bodega Volunteer Fire Department — and to find out what it’s like to work a deadly job where the only hazard pay is respect and admiration from the people whose lives you’re saving.
The Chainsmokers Are Good, Evidently
In a piece seemingly pointed directly at me, Tracy Moore writes that The Chainsmokers, the fratty DJ duo who dabble in casual racism and sexism when they’re not creating paint-by-numbers dance beatz (in my humble opinion), actually make good music. And that hating on them is as basic and dumb as the basic and dumb pop the rest of us accuse them of pissing in our ears. Is her argument convincing? You decide!
Rich, White and Poly?
Roughly 20 percent of Americans say they’ve engaged in some form of a consensually non-monogamous relationship such as polyamory, swinging or opening up. If TV and pop culture are to be believed, that 20 percent is educated, liberal, metropolitan, well-off and gainfully employed — and, on the whole, white — a combination of privileges that affords them both the time and energy to engage in those whimsical, mysterious non-monogamous situations. But sexual taste and orientation isn’t dictated by race, or socioeconomic background, which means that people of color and/or of limited means are mixing things up, too. We just don’t hear about them, for myriad reasons.
Au Revoir, Male Ankle
The male ankle, or “mankle,” has, for a few years now, been getting some much-needed time in the sun thanks to a style trend in which guys wear cuffed pants with no visible socks, in any kind of weather.
But all good things must come to an end, and Ashwin Rodrigues spoke with a number of NYC style experts who predict that 2019 might just be the mankle’s swan song.
We’ve all got that one go-to dish that, when we’re feeling sad, lonely, tired, hungover or all of the above, it’s the first thing we make — or, if you’re like me, order on Postmates. For Matthew Kang, a Korean-American food writer and editor-in-chief of Eater L.A., that dish is kimchi fried rice. Kang sat down with Eddie Kim to discuss the providence of his love for one of Korea’s most cherished comfort foods, the memories it evokes, and most importantly, his favorite recipe for making it.
Chug, Chug, Chug, Chug
How is it that shotgunning a beer allows you to chug faster? For the answer to that question, you need only thank the magic of physics. Higher atmospheric pressure acts against the gravitational drainage of the can — which, in layman’s terms, means punching a hole in a tallboy allows gravity to shoot beer down your gullet.