Misplaced Appetite. 8.75 inches x 11.75 inches (32 inches x 11.75 inches when hung), 76 pages, concertina with compound bindings. magazine clippings collected when I was a teenager and found by my mother thirty years later, repurposed file folders.
Say you're an individual individual, a 90's kind of guy. What does that mean? It means preparing for a decade that may yet be more conservative than the '50s, more revolutionary than the 60's, more schizophrenic than the '70s, more swinish than the '80s. It means no guarantee of a six-figure salary by the age of thirty. So what? Work for pleasure. (And be sure to get paid.) Be a comedian. Be an architect, congressman, P.R man, police frogman, Hollywood agent, priest, cowboy, boudoir photographer, archaeologiest, fashion designer, props builder, car designer, brewer, human-rights investigator, artist, rocket scientist [pages 52-73]. Or open an ad agency with no clients [page 80]. And, being an individual, dress the part. Make a personal statement, not a personnel statement. Find a white shirt [pages 74-79] that works as well for nine-to-five as six-to-twelve, and an unstuffed suit [pages 88-93] in any shade of black or white except flannel gray. And if you're not able to get off to Jamaica this weekend, dress like you're already there. Details magazine, May 1991
