protagonist fashion

Love Me Tinder: (Online) Dating in Tinseltown

noreply@blogger.com (Courtney) — Thu, 09 Jan 2014 22:08:00 +0000

It's been a year and four months since I've posted to this blog. I guess life got hectic (I also broke up with my boyfriend, meaning my resident photographer was no more). My revival post is not fashion related, though fashion is (briefly) mentioned.

I'm submitting the following essay about online dating to the "Modern Love" column of the New York Times, and would love to hear your feedback. Enjoy a break from work and (hopefully) a laugh or two about my experience with the virtual dating scene.
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I refused to ever do it in Los Angeles. Online dating in my hometown meant running the risk of virtually bumping into people I went to high school with, who I knew from around town, or who I worked with. Plus, I didn’t need to do it in LA. I had my crew, meaning I had plenty of wing-people to help me meet guys organically.

I had done it a couple years back when I was in grad school in Boston. I quickly realized grad school was quite different from my undergraduate years, and that people were not looking to get their party on mid-week. Plus, my best friend from class had a boyfriend (who is now her fiancée), and the few others I knew were equally coupled up. Joining OkCupid in Boston seemed like an easy choice: It was free, meaning I wouldn’t meet anyone dying to be married tomorrow, and I was far away, meaning no one I knew would see that I was on a… err… dating website.

On OKC, I met a guy in the closet, a few Boston bros who pretended they weren’t, a cute neuroscience Ph.D. student who loved his thesis more than the idea of dating me, and a nice teacher who I had to end things with after his kissing didn’t improve (subsequently, my friend began messaging him on OKC and luckily, they had better kissing chemistry).

A Master’s degree and one serious relationship later (a guy I met at a bar in LA), I found myself in my first Los Angeles apartment ready to try out the dating scene again. I went out a lot with my girls and gays, and met a lot of people. Some I made out with. Some I gave my number to. Most were pretty lame.

For a few weeks, I lived vicariously through my female coworkers who were online, browsing strangers’ profiles and remembering my days in Boston of the long-winded messaging and ultimate date initiation, only to end up disappointed that the chemistry was lackluster and the laughing courtesy, at best.

But for some reason, I joined again. Maybe it was my coworkers’ encouragement combined with my boredom during the slow season at work. I kept my information short but helpful, trying to avoid having the elusive “too cool for school” profile I’d heard about, where curtness comes off as borderline bitchy.

I went on a lot of first dates. During my OKC mishaps in Boston, I quickly learned that it’s easy to have good banter with someone via planned out message exchanges, and that the only way to know if something is real or not is to meet them in person. So, much to my coworkers’ confusion, I was having a lot of mid-week drinks. If I thought he was attractive and we exchanged a couple messages that proved he wasn’t a total idiot, why not go for it?

A few noteworthy dates: the recovering heroin addict who invited me to bottomless mimosas only to order an espresso and reveal his checkered past; the hippie who loved music and psychedelics and men and women, who raved about his ability to smell when a woman was ovulating; the comedian who I had no chemistry with who texted me two weeks later to get drinks, to which I replied, “Thanks, but I didn’t think we were a match,” to which he replied, “I totally got that vibe, just making sure.”

So OKC wasn’t working out, but there was another dating website waiting in the wings. My coworker had met someone on “Coffee Meets Bagel,” a site that sends you one match every day at noon (so there’s no aimless browsing), and she was determined to get every woman in LA hooked on this new online dating model.

Bagel was better. I met a cute Midwestern boy who I had a few dates with but who ultimately liked his beers and bros better than being an adult. I met an attractive lawyer who convinced me that he wasn’t a boring lawyer, only to unconvince me of that fact four dates later. I met a creative type with a real job (jackpot!), but quickly realized that if you’re nick-named after a jungle animal, the possibility of something lasting is slim, to say the least.

I was discouraged. I had been single for about a year (and yes, was having a lot of fun), but I was really ready to commit myself to someone. So I did what any single girl who was looking for a meaningful relationship would do: I joined Tinder.

From its induction into the online dating scene, Tinder was known as the “hook up app.” It’s easy to use and is rooted in a location-based “hot or not” platform, where you can swipe through dozens of people to find those nearest to you whom you find most attractive.

I can’t remember what put me over the edge and got me to download this seemingly superficial app. I asked my coworker if she could remember, to which she replied: “Likely because, why not? It was easier than OKC and Bagel, and I think it was just during a time when we were all trying whatever was out there.” I think that’s right. It seemed fun and easy and I had heard about more and more people joining it (and even having success beyond just hook-ups!), so I thought I’d try my thumb luck.

And tinder was fun. It was fun at bars when you were bored with your girlfriends. It was fun to show to people who had never heard of it before. It was fun when you saw people you went to high school with, and it felt less taboo than when you saw them on a full-fledged site. Some of the guys I recognized from the dating sites I had been on, others had the shirtless flexing pic I had heard horror stories about, but a lot of the guys were actually pretty hot.

It was fun when you found someone worthy of swiping right for, especially when the “It’s a Match!” popped up on your screen. I made a rule for myself that I would swipe with ease, but that I wouldn’t initiate any messages.

The plan was working pretty well. I met a superhot DJ/entrepreneur who was working on opening a wine bar in Hollywood. When he picked me up in his vintage Jaguar and ran into about five girls he knew between the walk from the car to the bar, I knew a committed relationship would never be in the cards with this dude. But the kissing was fun.

Then I met someone who I thought did have real potential. A design engineer from Stanford, he had the creativity and the smarts I had been looking for. It was also reassuring to know that cool, smart, attractive people were unabashedly using this app.

We hit it off immediately. We met on Sunday, and were already meeting up again on Monday for a show. I began travelling for work and we texted often, sharing a similar sense of humor and appreciation for the LA art and music scene.

I was excited about our budding relationship, and was confident we were on the same page. His avid texting, even when I was away on business, was surely a sign of his interest, right?

Apparently not. Things were great when I got back but quickly turned sour. He began acting very withdrawn and when I immediately confronted him about it, he blamed work. Disappointed and confused, I gave him an out and told him to be straight up with me. Still no truth. Alas, why men say one thing and do another is another post for another time. I continued along my Tinder journey.

Work got busy and I was traveling a ton. After Stanford, I decided to just have fun and let whatever was supposed to happen just happen. Tindering while traveling proved to be pretty entertaining, and while I never actually met up with anyone, I did send some pretty funny “Tindering in Detroit” pictures to my coworkers back home.

On my last trip of the year, I received a message from Nick, a cute lawyer with a good beard who I had swiped right on about a week prior. Like the lawyer from before, Nick also played the “I’m not a lame attorney” card, saying that his coworkers made fun of him for his tailored pants and fade. He was impressed when I guessed he did IP transactions, (the only “cool” law I knew of) and I promised to not judge him based off of my previous experience with a seemingly against the grain lawyer who turned out to be anything but.

We met at 7 and Grand, a whiskey bar in Downtown LA. I spotted him immediately—I had asked him how tall he was (being 5’9 ½ myself, I always round up to 5’10), and he told me he was also 5’10 (I later learned he lied—he rounds up too, but he’s only 5’9 ¼ ). He was leaning against the bar sporting those nicely tailored pants he spoke of with what I thought was a hipster-cool carabineer for his keys sticking out of his back pocket (I later learned it was a hook). I assumed he was arrogant.

I tapped him on the shoulder to say hello, and immediately went to the bathroom to have an internal pep talk with myself. I told this guy I wouldn’t pre-judge him based off his profession and my past experience with know-it-all lawyers, but that’s exactly what I was doing. I vowed to have a good night. And I did.

Nick and I have been dating exclusively for about two months. Yes, we are in the very early stages of our relationship, but it feels good. We are both strong and independent people who somehow complement each other quite well. He likes that I call him out on his shit; I like that he has perfectly mastered the art of being confident but not cocky. It doesn’t even bother me that he’s ¼ inch shorter than I am.

I can’t predict the future, but since meeting Nick, I can say that Tinder has worked for me. In the beginning, I had wished that we had a better story like some of my friends do—selling him a piece of furniture on Craigslist or meeting at an art gallery opening—but I decided to own our Tinder reality. We quickly learned that we have some mutual friends—a coworker of mine was a good friend of his in high school, and we found out that while in college, we both did a program in Washington, DC at the same time. We certainly could have met through one of those scenarios, but it was Tinder that finally brought us together. And I think that’s romantic in its own right because after all, what’s modern love without a modern introduction?

(end of) summertime sadness

noreply@blogger.com (Courtney) — Sat, 08 Sep 2012 03:07:00 +0000

My coworker, Corey, is a very talented photographer... so when he asked me if I wanted to shoot some photos on my roof, I was stoked.

I bought this rag & bone dress at Cusp on sale for $110.00 (originally 350.00) and was excited to get to wear it, especially with my also-on-sale Alexander Wang heels from Barneys Co-Op.

The sun is slowly starting to set earlier and earlier, so we raced home from work to catch the last bit of light. Though this may mark the official end of summer... I'll continue drinking wine on my roof at least until November.

laborless weekend

noreply@blogger.com (Courtney) — Wed, 05 Sep 2012 06:54:00 +0000

This past weekend, we celebrated Tessa's birthday in the desert, complete with a mid-century modern home, pool rafts, and ice cream sandwich-vodka ice blendeds. While there isn't a whole lot to do in Palm Springs, we certainly made our own fun... which consisted mostly of tanning, eating, drinking, napping, and a bit of ukulele playing.

Not much fashion in this post... mostly just skin.

half the crew

carpool

ladiez

gentz

hold tight

inside out banana

pucci poo

ice queen

...until next time.

WINTER DREAM

noreply@blogger.com (Courtney) — Wed, 22 Aug 2012 05:21:00 +0000

At the very last minute of (our) American summer, I decided to take a vacation down under to experience my first Australian winter (if you can even call it that). I never thought I would be one of those people who, three weeks before intended departure date, books a flight to the other side of the world. But there I was, seven unused vacation days staring at me in the face and my window of opportunity shortening. So book it I did... all the way to Brisbane, Byron Bay, Newcastle, and eventually, Sydney. It was random, financially irresponsible, and so much fun.


fresh off the plane and feeding the roos

Mama and her Joey

Brisbane Wheel

Byron Bay


Smiling Alpaca


Newcastle

(yes, my feet are totally disproportionate to my size)

Bondi Beach

Bondi

A Bondi Winter

Sydney, you're magical.


...and I leave you with this.

I love this country/continent/island.

HAPPY PRIDE

noreply@blogger.com (Courtney) — Tue, 26 Jun 2012 02:19:00 +0000

It's no secret that I love gay culture... the men, the music, the mischief... it all makes me happy. So, when Patrick rounded up the troops for PRIDE SF 2012, I was there.

I went to LA Pride this year and last, and I must say, SF does it better. In LA, you get Santa Monica Blvd. In SF, the whole city becomes a gay playground. There's also something magical about being reckless in the city of free love where our parents' used to get into trouble.

The always stylish Tessa of Chan Luu

Saturday in Dolores Park, SF

After clocking in some solid hours at the park, we found ourselves in the middle of the Dyke March, a celebration of love and passion amongst women.


The pink wall in the middle of the march was too good to pass up. [zara jacket and top, vintage belt and shorts, ally pin]

The next day was the parade! We walked from Powell to Civic Center and saw some interesting sights (to say the least). Most of the fun pictures would probably get this blog classified as a porn site, so here are the tame ones...

Allies [vintage top, gap 1969 cropped legging jeans]

I feel so lucky to have such fun and free-spirited friends (even though no one wanted to go to Berkeley with me... so hard to be that close and not go for a visit!). Already looking forward to next year! Happy summer.

a view from the top.

noreply@blogger.com (Courtney) — Sat, 16 Jun 2012 01:05:00 +0000

One of the selling points of my apartment (aside from its great location) is the amazing rooftop! I'm looking forward to some summer happy hours up here...

I got this dress from the Ocean Park Merchants Mart two years ago and I still love it. I really like the vintage style and color.
While I usually wear it with tights, I thought I'd have a little fun.


My very first pair of stilettos.


Love the color blocking of these heels. [Zara]

HAPPY WEEKEND!!

VELKOMMEN TIL SOLVANG

noreply@blogger.com (Courtney) — Tue, 05 Jun 2012 06:01:00 +0000

This past weekend, I ventured up north to the Santa Ynez Valley to the little Danish town of Solvang. Located about 30 minutes north of Santa Barbara, Solvang is home to some good wineries, tasty pastry places, and the Hans Christian Andersen Museum. In other words, libations, sweets, and culture... what more could you ask for on a Saturday afternoon?

The first stop on our way into town was Shoestring Winery. My favorite of the ones we tasted was the 2007 Sangiovese blended with Cab Franc. So smooth and amazing with dark chocolate. A close second was the Syrah Rose... perfectly refreshing for the summer. My Dad's birthday happens to be today so it was a good excuse to nab some bottles.

Grapes

Shoestring Tasting Room

After we had a few glasses, we decided to explore the grounds. Walking down this path in the valley sun was truly amazing

Making friends with the locals

After Shoestring, we drove a few minutes into the actual town and checked out Sevtap Winery. The vibe was totally different but just as fun. A little more Euro than Napa. Arturo, the owner, and his South African buddy cracked jokes and gave us one too many heavy pours. At one point, I was behind the bar, serving up the wine and, in a moment of wine jubilation, sipping from some random dude's glass. Arturo didn't appreciate that.

Here's Arturo and I in a prom pose. Obviously.


Last stop was Sort This Out Cellars... a unique, 1950s pin-up inspired tasting room. Unfortunately, I have no photographic evidence of S.T.O.C., but I remember loving their dessert wine. Driving a few hours but feeling thousands of miles from the city is such a treat.

#summerstart

noreply@blogger.com (Courtney) — Tue, 29 May 2012 18:16:00 +0000

This weekend was very relaxing... and the amazing LA weather definitely contributed to that.

Friday began with beautiful hydrangeas... Saturday was spent cleaning my apartment and doing errands, but I did head to the valley at night for a surprise party and some quality time with my oldest friend Sammy.

Sunday, I checked out the Silverlake Jubilee and sampled lots of food truck delights... including lobster tacos from the Lobsta Truck and a brisket sandwich from the clever Shmuck Truck (the guy manning the truck [aka schmoozing] was straight out of New York and has only been in LA for 4 weeks).

Memorial day was spent in true LA fashion... hiking Griffith Park with Tessa in the morning and spending the afternoon with Patrick in Manhattan Beach.

Summer, I've missed you.

Wish you could stay forever

purple kicks

talk to the hand ma


Lenny was spent after a day in the sun

Valencia filter. How appropriate for my friend from the burbs.

Patrick looking tan (and ripped) in his top man tank.

LA: View of Downtown from Giffith Park/Manhattan Beach Pier

D-LAND

noreply@blogger.com (Courtney) — Fri, 25 May 2012 20:42:00 +0000

Yesterday, we had an office retreat at Disneyland. It was definitely nice to get out of the cube for a bit, eat some really unhealthy food, and laugh at my fear of Space Mountain.


Waiting for the Buzz ride with my coworker, Jomar. Tim (AKA the DEAN) and Lisa (AKA Assistant Dean) photobombing in the background.

Marc Jacobs bag [similar]. Ex Nihilo t-shirt. Stella McCartney glasses [here].

I sported my new
Ex Nihilo t-shirt,
designed by my
friend Marcus.


The weather was pretty overcast, which made my ging Kenley happy. No sunscreen!

Overcast photo of the group.

Enjoy the long weekend!!

Angelino Heights

noreply@blogger.com (Courtney) — Mon, 21 May 2012 03:41:00 +0000

In March, I found an amazing studio apartment in an area of LA called Angelino Heights, which, admittedly, I had never even heard of until I started my search.

Tucked away behind Echo Park, Angelino Heights is one of LA's oldest neighborhoods and one of its first suburbs. It's also home to Carroll Avenue... a preserved street containing tons of Victorian manors. It's quite amazing to walk my dog alongside some of these 19th century beauties...

zara dress. h&m hat. stella mccartney glasses. vintage boots. turquoise chan luu bracelet. vintage cartier watch.

POUR VOUS

noreply@blogger.com (Courtney) — Wed, 16 May 2012 21:45:00 +0000

Last weekend, I went to Pour Vous with my best friend Tessa and her boyfriend Gabe. The French-chic bar is yet another creation from brothers Mark and Jonnie Houston (Harvard and Stone and La Descarga) with the oh-so-common mixologist vibe. What hasn't been done before (at least not that I've seen) is the drink I ordered. A Vadouvan Lassi to be exact... with rum, lime, coconut, falernum, bitters, and CURRY. It tasted like a delicious Indian dessert.

Tessa was smitten on the Moulin Rouge... vodka, aperol, citrus, orgeat, strawberry, bitters and bubbles. In her words: "I asked for a vodka drink and they gave me a jamba juice."

Overall, the scene is more hollywood than hipster (spotted many a lady in a sparkly dress), but nonetheless, a definite come back to. And, the smoking area is an old train car. Gimmicky maybe... but I loved it.

Yes, that is a band-aid on my leg.

COACHELLA (sorta)

noreply@blogger.com (Courtney) — Tue, 17 Apr 2012 04:26:00 +0000

How fitting that my first "real" blog entry would be a recap of my pseudo Coachella weekend...
We decided last minute to drive down to the desert to enjoy the
festivities despite the fact that we didn't actually have tickets to the festival.
By some fluke we scored a room at the Parker on very short notice. Designed by
fellow Jew Jonathan Adler, the hotel was quite lovely, aside from the kitschy
"DRUGS" sign in the lobby.

I hit up Buffalo Exchange on Friday after work for some Coachella garb and scored
these outfits (hats excluded).
The grounds were beautiful and lush, despite feeling somewhat like a maze.

Two small but intimate pools, an award winning spa, and of course, a croquet area.

On Saturday, we checked out the Hard Rock/Belvedere party at an estate in
Bermuda Dunes. My friend Patrick was working the event so he was able to get us
in (mostly) hassle free. Needless to say, I wasn't the only one there with a camera.

PRIMO

noreply@blogger.com (Courtney) — Mon, 09 Apr 2012 18:05:00 +0000

Welcome to PF! This blog wasn't really supposed to be a blog at all.. Protagonist Fashion was actually an idea that my friend Dan and I had to bring recycled fashions (think Buffalo Exchange and Wasteland) online to create our own profitable little business. But then life happened... I got a full-time job... Dan moved to Israel... and the whole idea sort of fell by the wayside.

But alas, months later, I decided to turn Protagonist into a sort of fashion/ideas/reviews/thought piece. It mostly fills my need for a creative outlet (my 9-5 job in higher ed doesn't really do the trick), but if people decide to tune in, sweet.

That's it. Enjoy!

PS- This is my dog, Leonard. I adopted him in November and he's the best. Leonard, meet the blogging world.