RIP: Where Rejected Pitches Go To Die @rejectedinpitches - Tumblr Blog

Every Rose Has Its Thorn...

As much as I hate to admit it, I can’t deny that I am sort of a part of “Bachelor Nation.” I have been watching the Bachelor franchise with my hometown friends for years and at this point, I can't stop even if I wanted to. (You could say that I’m in too deep.) The upcoming season of The Bachelorette is being hailed as a very big deal because ABC has a black bachelorette for the first time ever. The network is promoting this move as “historic” and I won’t dispute that fact because it took 33 seasons to make this a reality. Prior to Rachel Lindsay, a black contestant was lucky if he or she made it as far as the Top 10. (I’m not even joking, they used to never make the cut for the first rose ceremony.) I remember thinking that the options wouldn’t get better than “complicated” contestant Jubilee Sharpe on Ben Higgins’ sappy season, but then everyone’s favorite villain Nick Viall had a record high of eight women of color (which included the show’s first-ever bisexual) cast for his sham of a season.

Following the releases of Get Out and Dear White People, this season of The Bachelorette has me on edge as a black woman. The entire time that Rachel Rachel was competing for Nick’s heart—which I’m still confused by to this day—all ABC would have them talk about was race. Was Nick comfortable with dating a black woman? Had he ever even dated a black woman? My favorite moment was when Rachel brought Nick home to meet her family and he went to her all-black church and said that he had been to church before but “not like this” as in completely surrounded by black people. We get that being a interracial couple is full of obstacles like racism and that Nick wouldn’t have to deal with that if he chose any of the other (white) women, but we didn’t need to be reminded of it every single time they were on camera together. Plus, Nick pretty much claimed to be colorblind whenever he would state that he cared about who Rachel was as a “person” more than anything else. That said, I’m concerned that this is going to be the outline for Rachel’s entire season of The Bachelorette.

When I found out that Rachel was selected as ABC’s next bachelorette, I was genuinely excited. I couldn’t think of a person from the past four seasons more fitting for the role, especially after we were forced to watch Nick take his fourth shot at the reality show. The timing of the big announcement was way earlier than usual though—ABC didn’t wait for The Bachelor: Tell All, let alone the season finale. I didn’t read too into it at the time, but my mom pointed out something that I didn’t even consider: the network probably revealed it sooner to gauge viewer response.

I think I speak on behalf of most of Bachelor Nation when I say that none of us believed that Nick needed to be on another season. Following that lack of approval, ABC needed to make sure that their next choice was a real winner. Rachel was a risk for the most obvious reason, but Bachelor Nation loved her anyway—they just had to make sure that everyone else would too. Once that was out of the way, ABC would set everything else in motion almost a little too fast.

During the live reunion, Rachel was completely blindsided when OG host Chris Harrison decided to surprise her with five of the contestants that would be competing for her heart on the show. One of them—a white man named Dean—had the audacity to say, “I'm ready to go black and I'm never going to go back." Never in my 24 years of life have I cringed so hard; I’m pretty sure that I screamed at the television and my friend immediately refilled my glass of red wine. If I had been Rachel, I would have sent this fool home right then and there. (Boy, bye!)

It worries me that these are the types of things that Rachel is going to have to deal with for an entire season and she doesn’t deserve that. Yes, she is a beautiful, black southern belle, but she is so much more than her physical appearance—Rachel is a civil defense litigation attorney and she has a hell of a lot more to bring to the table than most of the past contestants that have held the title in this godforsaken franchise. (The only other accomplished individual prior to her was Andi Dorfman, a former assistant district attorney and the first-ever Jewish bachelorette.) She is an accomplished and successful woman and I’ll be damned if she isn’t given the most suitable candidates for her season. My greatest fear is that Rachel will be embarrassed on national television for the sake of ABC boosting ratings and keeping Bachelor Nation entertained on a weekly basis. I’m scared that Rachel is going to be forced into triggering situations for the purpose of cooking up drama on the program, and I’m worried that the viewers won’t empathize with her if the race stuff get too heavy.

Depending on how things go down, I am also concerned about the backlash Rachel could receive if she doesn’t wind up giving her final rose to a man that isn’t white. For the first time ever, a surplus of people of color are going to be tuning in to watch The Bachelorette. I find myself returning to Dear White People often and how it presented the exaggerated pettiness within POC communities when Samantha White’s black friends could not accept the fact that she was dating a “woke” white man. Imagine what type of responses could be generated from Black Twitter if Rachel makes this same choice. There is going to be more pressure on her than any bachelorette or bachelor that has come before her. We’re all rooting for Lindsay for our own reasons, but will she be able to live up to the high standards that ABC has set for (or against) her?

All of Rachel’s contestants have been revealed ahead of the premiere so we can get a glimpse at who we’ll be watching for the next 10-12 weeks, and she seems to have some diverse options as far as ethnicity is concerned but that might not be enough. Don’t get me wrong, I am happy to see progress being made on the program but I need for ABC to do it with dignity. Hopefully, Rachel isn’t used as a prop to fill a diversity quota and will guide the network in the right direction. I don’t want her season to serve as a test course for ABC.

Despite all of the anxiety that is building up inside of me, I’ll be tuning in every Monday night to support Rachel with a glass of wine in one hand and my fingers crossed on the other.

Gap Is Reviving Its Iconic '90s Collection, But I Feel Some Type Of Way About It

A repressed member of Generation Gap speaks out

Many brands that were hugely popular during the '90s have been reviving their most iconic collections. Calvin Klein and Tommy Hilfiger have been the leaders of the throwback pack, and now Gap has announced that it will bring back its classic '90s collection in the form of the Archive Reissue.

“The ‘90s is having a sartorial moment and we have an archive of pieces that set the tone for that decade commercially and culturally, so it seemed right to re-issue some of those pieces and the stories that come with them,” Craig Brommers, Gap's CEO, said in a press release. “‘Generation Gap’ came together in a celebration of who was with us then and who we are with now—it has, at its heart, that simple truth that we can take from the past but also celebrate our future.”

I am a part of Generation Gap. But for me, it goes deeper than simple nostalgia. During the golden days of my childhood in the late '90s, my mom worked part-time at a Gap store in our local mall and she used her employee discount to provide me with clothing from Gap Kids. For years, my classmates would relentlessly taunt me about wearing apparel and accessories from the retailer though. I heard everything from "You know that Gap stands for 'gay and proud,' right?" to "Wow, you must be really poor if you aren't shopping at Limited Too." By the time I reached second grade, I resented my mom for refusing to give me control of my wardrobe. I was so ashamed of the brand that I insisted on wearing items that didn't have the logo on it so I might be able to avoid a confrontation passing through the hallway or on the playground during recess.

This torment went on until fifth grade and when I reached middle school, I never wore anything from the Gap ever again. (Those years are a dark period of terrible clothing choices that I destroy all photographic evidence of.) Eventually when I went on college, I found myself digging through boxes of my old clothes during breaks in-between the semesters. Surprisingly, most of the Gap jackets, shirts, dresses, and skirts still fit from my elementary school days. "Did I ever wear this? It's so cute," I would say to my mom. She would then tell me that it was in mint condition because I never touched it for reasons she would never understand. However, she never let herself get rid of the clothes—she always recognized their value, so each item remained tucked away on a shelf in the back of the closet.

Now let's fast forward to the present on this day in 2017. It really bursts my bubble that the same bullies who used to make fun of me for wearing Gap will probably be the first customers lining up to purchase pieces from the Archive Reissue on February 7. The limited-edition collection will bring back all the classics we've come to love and hate like the 10-button tee, mock tees, sleeveless icon shirts, oversized jean jackets, pullover hoodies, khakis, denim, and so much more.

Gap is cool™ now because normcore is a dress code, and Naomi Campbell, Chelsea Tyler, Lizzy Jagger, Rumer Willis, Evan Ross, Coco Gordon, and TJ Mizell are repping the American brand. I'm sorry Mom—you were only doing your best and meant no harm on your mission to have the best dressed child in town. If I could go back in time, I would tell prepubescent me to trust what's in my closet. Better late than never. You best believe that I am going to deck myself out in Gap, loud and proud.

Excerpt from my short story "Prom Weekend" that has been a work in progress since 2011

She sat next to him on the couch. The room was full of smoke, empty beer cans, red cups, and Cheez-Its. At first it reeked of weed, but after sitting there awhile, she became accustomed to the scent. Of course, once Stacey entered, Barry was finished blazing up. Even though this wasn’t her scene, she actually enjoyed everyone’s company despite the fact that she loosely knew them all, with the exception of Barry.

Gradually, people began to make their way out of the room, some departing the house all together and others filtering into additional rooms within. Midway through conversation, Stacey felt the urge to touch something. She high fived Barry’s open palm, but she wasn’t ready to let go. She carefully slid her fingers between his and lightly squeezed his hand, immediately expecting him to release her. But for some reason, he didn’t. He kept her hand in his. It was exactly what she wanted, yet something didn’t feel right about it. Perhaps it was the fact that he had a girlfriend or that he was high out of his mind or that other people were around the room, watching them. But if he didn’t care, why should she? It was simple- two friends sitting on a couch together, holding hands. They were doing nothing out of the norm. They even turned it into a joke, giggling and swinging their hands up and down like a weight until they grew too tired, eventually just leaving their arms and interlocked hands in-between them on the couch.

This was something new for them, but it wasn’t weird. It was awkwardly comfortable; it was the way things should be. But Stacey couldn’t admit this to Barry. It was bad timing. At one point, they were left alone in the dark room. They now sat face to face, hands still held, but they were closer. Barry quickly got up, rushing to the bathroom and Stacey took this opportunity to lay fully out on the couch. When he returned, she expected him to move her legs, but instead, he stretched them over his lap. She slightly squirmed on the couch which caused her feet to accidentally brush his arm. He carefully grabbed one of feet and massaged it, but she didn’t feel the need to stop him- she liked the way it felt.

Handling Rejection On Your Career Path

Receiving a rejection email from a company that you wanted to work or intern for is similar to getting broken up with by a boy because they both never directly explain what it is that they don’t like about you, but dismiss you without further ado anyway. I mean, at least they bothered to inform you at all, right?

You wonder if you’re actually cut out for this career. I mean, maybe all these rejections are a sign that this industry isn’t for you. You eat your feelings for a bit, then decide that the only person stopping you from accomplishing these things is yourself. So you go at it again, but still, no luck.

Maybe the timing isn't right? You sigh, temporarily defeated, but not discouraged. You will try again the next morning, and the next day, and the next week, and the next month until someone responds to your inquiry.

A tribute to Ludwig Bemelmans on the 75th Anniversary of Madeline

In an old lot in Arlington, covered in leaves and vines, is the grave of Ludwig Bemelmans amongst thousands of marble lines / PHOTO BY SYDNEY GORE

Far out in Section 43 of the Arlington National Cemetery stands the grave of Ludwig Bemelmans, beloved author and illustrator of Madeline. 2014 willl mark the 75th anniversary of “the smallest one” who lived in that “old house in Paris that was covered in vines.”

For a man who wrote so many stories that Americans associate as a part of their childhoods, so little is actually known about his own.

Born in Austria and raised in Germany, Bemelmans emigrated to the United States when he was 16-years-old after a lifetime of rebellion and frustration with the German educational system. Similar to his father Lambert Bemelmans, a Belgian painter who left him and his mother at a young age, he worked in the hotel and restaurant industry as a waiter at the Ritz-Carlton in N.Y. This was the beginning of his elaborate system for standard living.

In 1917, Bemelmans enlisted in the U.S. Army and served in World War I, where he achieved the rank of second lieutenant. He documented his experience during the war in his book, My War With the United States. The next year, Bemelmans was naturalized as an American citizen.

“He was colorful. He lived his life…and he lived in a different time period,” said Louis Parrinello, principal of Briarcliff Elementary School. “The world was at the brink of war and he was this young man growing up in that environment, and it’s good that he came to America. It saved him…He became so prolific.”

Link to the "About Me" page because some trolls are too lazy to type out /about

Real or Myth: The elastic band theory?

Four years late, but relevant nonetheless, I decided to watch "Angus, Thongs, and Perfect Snogging". Not only was this 2008 flick entertaining, but I could easily relate to it, both in terms of remembering days from my teenage youth, and also some of the ways I shamelessly behave now. (I'm still not boylingual yet...) So during the climax of the movie, Georgia is dismayed when her super huge crush, Robbie doesn't call her. Suddenly, everything spirals out of control and Georgia's social life plummets to the rain soaked gutter. In an effort to boost Georgia's confidence, her mother gives her a book about male anatomy and introduces the " elastic band theory". Upon doing more research, I discovered that the elastic band theory is more commonly known as the "rubber band theory" and actually comes from John Gray's book, Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus.

The year will be 2029.

I will be 35 years old and hopefully have fulfilled my dream of working at a magazine in New York City. (But the way things are looking these days, I'm not so sure if I really want to do that anymore though. Maybe I'll be queen of the online editorial team though.) I don't know for certain if I will be married, but I might have a kid. One day, that kid is going to stumble upon my CD collection. And from that day forward, nothing will be the same.

"Mom, what is that thing?" my child will ask me with wonder in its eyes.

"It's a compact disc, it's what albums and EPs used to be manufactured on before MP3 crafted the way for digital music," I'll say.

I will open a door for my child into the wonderful world of music. One day, I will drop my kid off at my parent's house to spend time with them-- hopefully they will live somewhere else that is not South Jersey anymore. My Dad will take my kid under his wing and show it his music room, where his massive collection of vinyl awaits. My kid is going to become obsessed with music because it's a trait in our genes. This will excite me until a grim reality hits me: I won't know where to buy physical music. I will search for a local record store, but it won't exist because our suburban town is too basic. I will find places online like Amazon, but it won't be the same. My kid won't have the pleasure of driving to Tunes or Princeton Records after school with it's dad. My kid won't know what it's like to browse through a bin of cheap CD's and randomly select a purchase based on the cover art or name of the artist. And then a dark thought will settle in as I remember that there is one place I can go:

Urban Outfitters. I will sigh heavily as I drive my budding tastemaker to the mall. As we walk to the store, I will start telling it about how I worked here when I was in college and it was my first official job. I will explain how good it used to be, or at least in my mind anyway, and probably bring up some of the ridiculous scandals, though I'm sure my kid will be so smart and overly-informed that it will be aware of this information. We will enter the store and my kid will freak out when it sees the vinyl section. (Unless it's a cassette section by that time? I'm not sure…)

I will sadly shake my head in the corner and let out another long sigh before being approached by a hip sales associate that knows I'm too old to be in here. I will tell him/her that I used to work here when I was their age. The associate will probably roll its eyes at me and maybe chuckle in disbelief. "Yeah right, lady," they'll say. My kid will run up to me holding a stack of vinyl with artists I've probably never heard of. I will take them up to the register and be disgusted at the ridiculously overpriced sum I'm paying. But hey, my kid will like music so it's not as important where it's coming from…right?

I mean, at least it won't be shopping at Abercrombie & Fitch. If that's not shut down by then, we did something wrong as a society.

Trending Blogs

Recently Viewed Blogs

RIP: Where Rejected Pitches Go To Die