This weekend as I walked along Broadway on the Upper West Side, I came upon the cleavage-adorned windows of Victoria's Secret. (When I was a kid, if you wanted to see similar amounts of skin you have had to man up and actually buy a copy of "Playboy.")
There were posterized breasts everywhere, ready to pop like over-filled water balloons. And shapely keisters the likes of which I've seldom seen outside of Cameron Diaz. The keister posters were advertising something called "yoga shorts" and the headline blared that the shorts were "cute."
Cute is a word, I believe that afflicts us.
Aren't my nails cute?
Look at those cute shoes?
I love that cute haircut.
My boyfriend is so cute.
These shorts (back to the Victoria's Secret window) are cute.
What's happened is that as a society we have all learned about personal branding. We have bought the dope that if we wear "cute" things, we too will be cute.
We have forgotten about steak and sell, instead, a persistent sizzle.
As a culture we have forgotten pretty is as pretty does.
We, therefore, adorn ourselves with logos.
Everything from our eye-glasses to our flip-flops are branded.
We think by associating ourselves with popular, rich, successful and sexy brands we will be popular, rich, successful and sexy.
Those cute shorts won't do shit to an ass that has the topography of the Andes.