September 29, 2008
This woman's pain is remarkably delicious . . .by Kirsten Fleming
"I am undercover in a world of Democrats. No one could imagine I think Richard Nixon is as cool as designer Phillip Lim," says Kirsten.IF you are my friend, by the time you finish this, you might not be. I understand. Can't say it hasn't happened before. But I am not a baby-roasting Visigoth or even a tax-dodging cheat. I am, simply, a Republican. (And yes, I've already heard that they are the same.) This supposedly tolerant city is more open to drug addicts and criminals than someone who has an elephant for a mascot.
According to the New York Board of Elections, Manhattan's 100,750 registered Republicans are dwarfed by the Democrats' population of 643,683. Add to that the city's assortment of nondenominational lefties, and the disparity looks something like the fashion world's ratio of fat to skinny girls. Republicans don't hold demonstrations along Fifth Avenue. Their mere presence in New York City for the '04 convention was so intolerable to liberals that more than 1,800 of them spent the night in jail in protest. It's righteous to be a Democrat. It's just plain imbecilic to be a Republican. That's why many of the Republicans I know live in the closet, admitting the truth to only close friends or random barflies after too many tumblers of scotch.
There's now a movement by indie filmmakers on Truththroughaction.org, whose goal is "to engage voters and provide them with…entertaining content that reminds them that being a Democrat is cool." The videos show a half-dressed young woman refusing to sleep with a bar conquest because she found a signed John McCain photo in his apartment while looking for a condom. The blue-balled Red Stater is left to contemplate why he can't get laid in this town.
I get it. You Democrats are cool and hot. We Republicans are high britches–wearing dorks. You have George Clooney and Scarlett Johansson. We have Heidi Montag.
Working in a creative industry—fashion and lifestyle journalism—I feel like I am undercover in a world of Democrats. They unknowingly bring me into their inner sanctum, lambasting the right without even considering the unthinkable: that I could be part of the cult of stupidity. No one could imagine in a million years that Richard Nixon and Ronald Reagan are, for me, in the same echelon of coolness as cult fashion designer Phillip Lim. I am a vegetarian. I wear Vans instead of the standard-issue closed-toe pumps. I don't have a wardrobe full of boxy Anne Taylor suits or even a briefcase. But because I believe in fiscal conservatism, reduced taxes and smaller government, I am a female Alex P. Keaton in hipster clothing.
And since the election has been getting hotter than Bill Clinton's libido, daily reminders of my minority status creep their way into my life. I see so many Barack Obama pins on the subway that a foreigner would be excused for thinking the MTA had endorsed him. I have yet to spot a McCain pin displayed on a lapel, but I guess I'm just hanging out in the wrong places . . .
more:
http://www.nypost.com/pagesixmag/issues/20080928/Elephant+Room