Trending Twinkie (Hostess, Twitter)

Friday night, former MTV VJ Dave Holmes posted a story on his Tumblr to mourn the liquidation of Hostess Brand Inc. Although we now know that Twinkies will probably survive after the dissolution of parent company Hostess (as well as the upcoming apocalypse), you have to remember that on Friday, we were all uncertain about the fate of our favorite artificial-ingredient-based cake product.

Mr. Holmes's little vignette was about his friend/fellow air jockey Jancee Dunn, who in 2001 was trying to pitch her first story to The New York Times Style section. And while we've always assumed that most trend pieces are born more out of temerity than truth, apparently they are sometimes also created from a throwaway comment your friend makes about Twinkies before your pitch meeting.

From Mr. Holmes' Tumblr:

One afternoon long ago, I was walking down 1st Avenue with my friend Jancee, who was getting ready for her first interview with one of the editors of the New York Times SundayStyles section. She went over some story ideas she wanted to pitch the guy, we discussed them, we stopped at a bodega to get some water, I picked up a 2-pack of Twinkies on a whim, and we split them. It had been years since I’d eaten one, and we agreed it tasted like childhood. “I want to have a party and serve only Twinkies,” I said (apparently). We parted ways.

At the interview, she pitched her best story idea. The guy wasn’t into it. Then another. No sale. Another. Pass. In a panic, she blurted, “My friend is going to have a Twinkie party,” and- on the spot- improvised a trend piece about comfort food at swell parties.

Later that day, Jancee called. “Remember the Twinkie party you were going to have?” I did not. “Well, could you have it? Could it be next Friday? And would you mind if I came with a photographer?”

And thus was born Jancee’s first byline in the New York Times SundayStyles section. Read it here.

I have not eaten a Twinkie or appeared in the Times since.

The article in question is from 2001--"NOTICED; Yesterday's Junk Food Is Today's Party Food." It begins:

WHEN David Holmes, an MTV video jockey, recently learned that his roommate was moving to Europe, he sought inspiration for a going-away party. In Aisle 5 of Key Food, it struck him with the force of a produce sprayer: he would glorify the American treats so scarce, and so reviled, on the other side of the Atlantic.

How better to send off a good friend than with Twinkie the Kid? he reasoned (...)

Lately, at myriad gatherings around the city, refined partygoers are increasingly being tempted to forsake smoked salmon and caviar for Hostess, the Colonel or Popeyes, as comfort food -- remember when it was called junk food -- fills buffet tables. Guests confronted by the foods of their youth may scornfully hesitate, but when they grow hungry -- or tipsy -- enough, it's ''The Day of the Locust.''

To her credit, Ms. Dunn was able to find two other people to prove her point ... one of whom happened to be a pre-Bon Appetit Adam Rapoport, who was serving up White Castle at a loft party while still editing GQ.

Just more evidence that most trends are made, not found, by the writers who report them ... something to keep in mind the next time you see a story about all those trendsetters hoarding Twinkies to sell on eBay.

Surprisingly, not a trend story. (The Onion)

Poor Justin Peters. The Slate scribe probably hadn't heard about The Times Is on It Twitter account when he signed up to do what most of us would consider the impossible (or at least the super-foolish): Try to "embody" seven trends created discovered by the NYT’s Style Section, to become the most stylish man in New York. (Except, obviously, Brooklyn.)

So what did these seven trends entail? Growing a beard ("Oh, to Be Just Another Bearded Face," May 30); using cockney slang ("Americans Are Barmy Over Britishisms," Oct. 10); putting 30 pillows on the bed ("A Nation Lulled to Sleep," Feb 10); a happy hour dance party/gym class ("Would You Like a Cocktail With That Workout?" March 7); wearing a man-bun and imitating gap teeth with tooth-black ("Generation Gap: Look Who’s Smiling Now," Feb 15 and "Spare a Hair Band? A Man Bun to Go," Jan. 25), and getting a "he-wax" ("A He-Wax for Him," April 10).

Luckily, those seven trends weren't done simultaneously, or else we doubt Mr. Peters would have survived the ordeal. (Getting a genital wax while working out with energy shots? Blimey!) He did, however, yell at several non-bearded men at Brooklyn Flea, harassed exhibitors at the Agenda: NYC trade show, and had a really good night's sleep (among other things). Conclusion? Trying to keep up with trend stories will make other people think you are insane, or an idiot, or a writer. Like when Mr. Peters tries to mock a beardless gentleman, because according to the Times, some men now "face ridicule" for not having facial hair.

We just want to know: Where does he stand on wearing pantyhose with Spanx? Skirts? My god, there are just so many things we need to know about, trend-wise!

The Jitney: White whine included (HamptonsJitney.com)

Spring skirt trends have given way at The New York Times to the more topical issues facing Manhattanites: like how to escape from New York City and get up to the Hamptons.

Three stories in two days debated the relative pros and cons of train, bus, and air travel upstate, but we're still left with a nagging question...do we have to go? (That's rhetorical, obviously, yes, you have to go to the Hamptons. Every weekend. All summer.) The only thing missing is an in-depth profile on seaplanes.

So for a quick refresher course--just in case you don't have time to read a 1,000 word piece on how much alcohol 21-year-olds consume on the LIRR, we've summed up The Grey Lady's stance on each method of getting your tuchus to Montauk.

 1. The Jitney

Dissected in: "To The Hamptons, and Step On It!" (July 13)

White Whine:

"They should hand out Xanax,” said Julia Kirchhausen, a communications consultant, after taking the Ambassador on a Friday afternoon....One woman asked for two snacks. The attendant said no. The woman asked for two newspapers: The New York Times and Dan’s Papers. The attendant said she could have one or the other, not both.

The Upshot: "Most of the time...the ride is almost library-quiet."

The Takeaway: If you can't bear the traffic, get drunk on The Ambassador, which serves...what else? White wine.

2. The Long Island Railroad

Dissected in: "The Hamptons Party Starts on the Train Tracks" (July 14th)

White Wine:

Some riders carve islands of civility amid the packs of partyers. On the Friday train that carried the Johnsons, Hunter Brooks and Nevin Shetty, both 28, sat with a wooden chessboard balanced between them on their knees. “Do you have to party on a train?” Mr. Brooks said. “It’s nice to have a conversation.”

The Upshot: "I don’t want to get out there completely sober and everybody is already crunked up at the pool."

The Takeaway: If you're looking to get wasted, definitely check out the 5:09 on Track 18. Just don't go after midnight, when it's illegal.

3. Helicopters

Dissected in: "Sparing No Expense for a Copter Ride to the Hamptons" (July 14th)

White Wine:

It is also expensive: the charter fee for this flight — there is no scheduled helicopter service to East Hampton — was $3,400. The Eurocopter seats six, so if full, it costs about $567 per person.

Upshot:

This was a moment for gloating: below, the cars on the Long Island Expressway were inching toward Exit 53, where Fire Island-bound crowds headed onto the Sagtikos State Parkway.

Takeaway: If you are a rich, deaf person (the noise is so bad that a new federal regulations will require copters to fly a mile off-shore) who is not afraid of heights, than pack your Dramamine and try not to fall out!

Skirts: the new (old) trend story (Getty Images)

"Fashion is a form of ugliness so intolerable that we have to alter it every six months," Oscar Wilde once famously quipped. He was almost right. When discussing trends in fashion staples, very little is altered...not even the copy. Such is the case of The New York Times and its obsession with skirts.

"It seems parrotlike to go on repeating the statement that short skirts are fashionable," wrote The New York Times fashion reporter Anne Rittenhouse, "but it is amazing to observe their progress toward a complete sweep of the field."

Ms. Rittenhouse (a penname for Ms. Harry-Dele Hallmark) must have been looking into a crystal ball: she was already exasperated by the skirt trend stories back in 1909, when the novelty of a hemline was that it was no longer attached to a dress. Her item was titled: "What the well-dressed women are wearing; The Skirt With Separate Bodice the Correct Styles for Smartly Dressed Women This Season."

With that, The New York Times pronounced that skirts were "in." And twice a year because it lines up with Fashion Week: long skirts come back for fall, short skirts for Spring, with an almost clockwork preciseness, the parrotlike Grey Lady announces that once again, skirts are fashionable. Yes ladies, free yourself of those dowdy knickerbockers and put on a skirt...they're back in style!

The only problem? No one has ever made the argument in the last 100+ years that skirts were somehow not in vogue. Even when The New York Times was reporting on trousers and slacks as a feminine workplace alternative to skirts, they were running concurrent articles about "miniskirt mobs": women rebelling against conservative groups telling them to lower their hemlines.

The most recent example of the "skirt trend story" trend was found in a Thursday Styles piece mid-March. In "Only the Half of It", Ruth La Ferla made a passionate argument for the attire, saying "its very multiplicity, emblematic of a fashion landscape in which no single style or trend prevails, is acting as catnip to consumers, who are combining skirts, long and short, slim and wide, plain and patterned, with pieces varying from tank tops to mannish shirts, from turtlenecks to blazers."

There's even a quote from Marshall Cohen of the research firm NPD Group: "The skirt has become the new hot toy for women to play with in fashion."

Ms. Ferla's column begins with a young MTV executive whose choice of attire makes her feel left out among colleagues who wear leggings (confusing, since leggings--like tights--aren't fashionable unless you wear something over them...or are an Olsen twin), and ends with the definitive last word on the subject: “Skirts are a statement for sure.”

Really? Are they?

Even fashion insiders seem to think that the the never-ending skirts-are-in story seems dubious.

"Are you wearing a skirt right now?" Kelly Cutrone, of PR firm People's Revolution and America's Next Top Model, demanded over the phone. "Are you wearing leggings?" No, we were wearing jeans...then again, no one has ever accused us of being at the forefront of fashion.

"I will guarantee," she continued sardonically, "that in the summer people will be wearing skirts, shorts, and bathing suits." She broke into  hysterical, throaty laughter. "And no, they won't be wearing leggings, because those are cotton-poly blend and don't breathe."

Jennifer Wright, editor-in-chief of fashion and beauty blog TheGloss.com, put in her two cents as well when asked by The Observer where skirts had gone that necessitated these "Return of Skirts" trend stories.

"Where did skirts go? They went into your closet. With the rest of your spring/summer clothes. Because it was 30 degrees out. Every spring they come out again. Because it's warm again."

Now, one could make the case that most skirt stories in The New York Times have not really been about the novelty of the item itself, but the styles in which people wore them. Throughout the century, there have been endless debates over the mini, the micro-mini, the a-line, the midi, the maxi, and the pencil. But even these pieces tend to have a Groundhog Day quality to them.

In December of 1991, Bernadine Morris wrote that designers were trying to find a way to have longer skirts catch on with the public after 20 years cropped styles. "Still, the mini will not disappear," she wrote. "Designers will do their best to keep a balance."

That seemed reasonable, if that just two years prior, Ms. Morris had written almost the exact same story. Her June 13th, 1989 piece, "Summer Comfort, in Long Looks" ended with a very similar line. A woman walking down Seventh Avenue told Ms. Morris, "We don't want to invest in good clothes that cost a lot of money and then be told we can't wear them more than one season. I feel comfortable in long skirts and in short ones. I plan to wear them both.''

Of course, The New York Times isn't the only offender. Across the seas, Harriet Walker wrote in The Independenton January 17th, 2011 that long skirts were indeed making a comeback, without acknowledging that they've apparently been in the comeback stage for over two decades.

"The long skirt has, understandably enough, gained something of a reputation for being for fuddy-duddies—a bit droopy, a bit (apologies here) 'art teacher," Ms. Walker opined, before ending her piece in the style of her predecessors with a quote from Caroline Evans: "Fashion is defined by rapid style changes. It never stands still ...After all, nothing is less fashionable than the recently out-of-fashion."

"Saying that skirts are in trend is like saying pants, t-shirts or jackets are in trend," Houghton Creative Director and stylist Katherine Polk told The Observer.

Now that's a good idea for a Styles Section trend story if we've ever heard one: "T-shirts: What the well-dressed women are wearing."

All it's cracked up to be.

On a charming August night, The Observer was sitting on our fire escape with two friends, having cigarettes, having beer. We had brought out an iPhone dock, a diminutive speaker machine that plays music right from a mobile device, at a decent, but not offensive-to-the-neighbors, volume.

Then, with a jerk of an arm, there came a crash. The iPhone dock, nudged at, spun down four stories and smashed unceremoniously on the Houston Street sidewalk. Still affixed to the dock’s protruding metal slab was our iPhone. A retrieval trip downstairs found a young woman holding the mess of technology. She handed it sympathetically back to us.

We examined the damage. Not good. It had been crushed to a pulp. The frame had cracked considerably, the SIM card sputtered out like a rancid animal tongue and the once-sleek corners were marred beyond help.

But I was hardly the first victim of a battered iPhone.

Let’s play a game. Do you have a cracked one? Have you been careless enough to go caseless, a state of the phone where a single mishandling can lead to a nasty slit across your screen? Look at your phone, turn off the backlight, and rotate it slightly to catch a good reflection—maybe you haven’t even noticed, but there’s quite possibly a spindly wisp of a line running horizontally from left to right.

For the last few months, more friends and acquaintances have revealed the imperfections on their phones. They might even reveal with with pride—there’s a sort of community emerging.

We have been privy to the following conversation, with little variation, rather frequently of late.

“Oh, yours is cracked, too,” said a friend to a young lady, over dinner at a small French restaurant on Orchard Street in July.

“Yeah, it is!” she replied in solidarity.

He was getting her number when the recognition hit. They both had gashes in their glass. They took the phones out to compare and the faults nearly matched up, like two touched-together palms with lifelines of the same size.

“What happened?” said the first friend

“I dropped it,” she replied.

“Look at that,” he said.

Never fear, this is not cause for mourning, not a moment to lament these blemishes to the vaunted work of the industrial-design gods in Cupertino. The thing is: cracked iPhones are cool now! The splinters displayed as a badge of honor here in New York. You have your demolished jeans, you have your beat-up apartment in deep Bed-Stuy. Now you can have your tough-looking mobile personal communication device.

(Can iPhones come pre-cracked, to save time? Sure. Why not.)

Adjusting to the new reality, we found ourself newly in possession of a blighted device, the dark face that once sprang to life with a single click blanketed in a spider web of broken glass, chunks of the sharp stuff falling out as we turned it over in our fingers.

But you know what? It looked pretty awesome.

“I’ve noticed that some iPhone users see cracks as street cred,” a writer told me. “Like, I was balling out with my phone so hard that I dropped the thing, cracked it, and I’m STILL using it.’ A cracked iPhone is clearly superior to any other type of phone that doesn’t have a crack in it.”

We had put out a notice on Twitter—how iPhone-appropriate!—asking those who’ve carried around a shattered phone in their pocket to come clean. Some replaced them out of shame, others sucked it up.

“[I’m] on my 4th iPhone,” one said. “Parents said the cracked one(s) made me look poor.”

“Psh I’m still on smartphone I think lucky #13,” tweeted another. “Maybe this one will last more than 5 months???”

“Oh man, mine was shattered and the butt of jokes for MONTHS but then it got stolen,” said one more. “Does that count?”

Yes, that counts.

Oftentimes it’s just laziness keeping New Yorkers from fixing their phones. Brian Phothimat, a tech fixer-upper who claims to be able to replace your screen in “5-35 minutes,” said with discernable dismay that he knows people who wait inexcusable amounts of time to get new screens.

“I have clients who sometimes wait 2 to 3 months because it’s not that important to them,” he said

(He then noted he was on the phone from Hawaii, on vacation. In the event of a dropped phone in the next week, well, his clients would be flat out of luck.)

“It gets really bad—when they try to slide it in they cut their hands,” he went on. “Your cell phone is your livelihood! It’s not good to look at. I cracked my iPhone three times and I had to get it fixed right away!”

Well, evidently many others feel differently. After talking about this for a while, we started getting tips, unprompted, from friends. There would be cracked iPhones at parties, cracked iPhones at the office, cracked iPhones on buses in and out of the city.

On a recent Sunday afternoon, our iPhone buzzed with a text from a close college friend who had just finished brunch in Brooklyn with four male acquaintances.

“Playing Taboo at a beer garden,” the text read. “One of them has a cracked iPhone.”

“Noted,” we typed back.

Another ping.

“Apparently there’s a background that is a picture of a crack.”

That is true, but cracked backgrounds are only the beginning. At this moment, just a few single clicks and you will be in possession of cracked iPhone wallpapers, cracked iPhone screen savers, cracked iPhone apps and cracked iPhone games.

Not all cracked iPhone apps are made equal, mind you. Being thrifty, we first picked up “Crack Me Up Lite”—it was free—which does little more than let you browse through none-to-convincing pictures of impact-heavy glass, and then blow them up full screen. Boring. So we ponied up a dollar for “Shattered Screen Joke,” which added one key element of a cracked iPhone app: the high-pitched exaggerated ka-pleesh! sound that attempts to intimate what it sounds like when an actual accident occurs. A nice touch, but nothing close to the real thing.

The full version of “Crack Me Up,” however, is pretty stellar. When you load one of the backgrounds, you can shake your phone to add more and more cracks, each shatter accompanied by a satisfying crunch. If you don’t have the courage to scuff your iPhone up on the ground, this would no doubt suffice.

But how could The Observer even test these apps out, when our phone lay dormant and unblinking after the four-story fall? The day after, we ventured to the Soho Apple store, where the air was thick with discontent. Every five minutes, another citizen approached the genius bar with a crack, or an iPhone that wouldn't turn on, or a model gashed badly on its bottom USB dock.

The estimate for fixing our phone was $150, and we declined.

Luckily, a friend had an old phone he was set to donate. We met in Williamsburg to complete the exchange. He handed it over at a busy intersection, and as we headed off toward brunch, the sun bounced off the screen and through the blinding rays we saw, across the top, a big visible crack. We thanked him and slipped the phone into our pocket.

nfreeman@observer.com