Maybe you just moved here. Maybe you’ve lived here all your life. Maybe you’ve never really known any better.
At last night’s AFI 40th Anniversary screenings at ArcLight Hollywood, ten films were presented by some very big names. There were searchlights circling the skies, and the red carpet was out for the arrivals. Tickets for the screenings were $25 each - more if you had to scrounge eBay or Craigslist. The mood was festive.
Yet, something was missing. Class.
Somehow, this generation missed out on the class gene. It’s the gene that enables you to behave like a gentleman or a lady. It gives you the power to be seen without making a scene. It tells you how to dress.
Last night was the 40th Anniversary of the American Film Institute. There were people in jeans. T-shirts. Flip-flops. If you were one of the handful that arrived in a suit or a dress, congratulations. You are showing your respect to film, a great organization, and yourself. You are Old Hollywood. You get it.
If you were one of the countless others who did not dress the part, here are a few pointers for your next night on the town:
- A clever T-shirt does not impress anyone.
- You’re not going to the beach. Wear shoes.
- Jeans are for working on the railroad.
- You’re not that important. Leave your Blackberry in the car.
- Be polite to others. You never know who are they are today, or who they’ll be tomorrow.
Filed under: City Life |
love this. why don’t people here “get it?” i miss my grandparents…
They even sent an email out ahead of time asking people to dress up a little.
That said, had I gone I’d have worn jeans and a t-shirt anyway.
Was not this year’s AFI event sponsored by Target, the new K-mart (and great seller of “jeans and t-shirts”)? I recall the junction beneath Atlantic-Pacific (in Brooklyn, to you non-New Yorkers) being all but bought by Target, and all those ads that you angelinos see now on teevee, were already getting dusty on the walls I usta sprint past going up nad down the steps between the N/R/Q, 3 and even the B/D (folk go all the way past uptown these days, I hear).
Oh, wait, I “get it”—this is eLAy, not a real city.
My apologies.
BusTard