html xmlns:og='' xmlns:expr=''> Lounging at the Waldorf: The Brief, Sweet Life of CondeElevator


Wednesday, September 7, 2011

The Brief, Sweet Life of CondeElevator

About a month ago, a certain sassy so-and-so started Tweeting quotes overheard in the Condé Nast elevator.

Woman #1 
[to Woman #2 holding an omelet]
What's the occasion?

Woman #2

Woman #1
I would need an occasion to eat that.

Condé Nast, of couse, is the magazine publishing company responsible for Vogue, The New Yorker, Vanity Fair, Women's Wear Daily, and the man-bible of the '80's: GQ.  

Speaking of GQ. of you think the women are the only ones verbally smacking each other in the Condé Nast elevator, think again.

Old Dudeitor
You goin' to that thing tonight? 

Young Dudeitor
What thing? 

Old Dudeitor
Ah, guess not.

Without a doubt, the tweets are vapid.  Yet oddly sincere.  And that's what draws me to them. When we have that passion, we have that capability.  It's just like O.J. Berman says about Holly Golightly in (the charming yet frighteningly racist) film Breakfast at Tiffany's:

O.J. Berman
She's a real phony.  You know why?  
Because she honestly believes 
all this phony junk she believes.

I think it's only natural.   When talking about the thing you love - whether it's analog synthesizers, vintage dresses, holy scripture, or bisque figurines - you sound like you just drank the Kool-Aid...because you did.  And unless your passion is providing clean drinking water for all, you just may end up sounding hollow.  Passionately-living-out-your-fantasies-on-the pages-of-the-glossy-magazine-in-your-head hollow.

The person or persons who wrote behind the moniker CondéElevator began tweeting on August 8th.  Three days and 36 tweets later, she, he, or they had over 90,000 followers.  It seems the devotion was to career, to self, and not the snark.  On August 11th, this final, freaked out message was sent:

Girl or Guy #1 
[in elevator alone]
This got really crazy. Love my job. Better stop.

Passion won.

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