In case you missed it: The GQ douche

From The Herald’s editorial page board yesterday.

Dear GQ editors,

We’re writing to let you know that we’re not mad. We’re sorry you think we’re douches, honestly. But we’re not mad at you for it. The feeling on campus since the release of your article hasn’t been anger, or resentment. Not even frustration. No, more than anything it’s been confusion.

A lot of people here would like to chat with you about semantics. (Yes, we use words like semantics.) It’s not that your profile of our school is wrong — (many of us ran out to the driveway and tore those peace signs right off) — we just don’t see the connection between being a smart, rich pacifist and being a douche.

Continued after the jump.

As you know, we here at Brown like words. (Hegemony, for instance.) We like dictionaries and definitions, too; according to the Urban Dictionary, one of our favorites, “douche” is defined as 1) “George W. Bush, president of the United States”, or 2) “Product used to sanitize an unpleasant, dirty vagina.”

We don’t really think we fit either of those.

So, since you decided to get creative with your definitions, we’ve decided to get creative, too. We spent some time thinking about what a GQ University would be like — a place where the writers and readers of GQ could meet up and talk about exfoliating body washes, leather jackets and “How to Become a Well-Dressed Rebel in 30 Days.” What we came up with is a “heavily researched, possibly stereotypey, but still accurate” description of the kind of university SDS would try to burn down. With no further ado, we present The “GQ” Douche:

Affectations: The acronym. (Aren’t you guys a monthly?)

In ten years, will be: Out of style and/or working for thesartorialist.blogspot.com.

A peek inside: 50 percent of subscribers make more than $75,000 a year. Which means the “GQ” douche definitely does not hate BMW’s. He mocks BMW’s with peace signs, however, leading us to believe that what he really hates is peace. Tsk, Tsk.

Douchiest course offerings (note: these are actual GQ articles): “Long Day’s Journey Into Dinner,” “A Man’s Guide to Calories: How to Manage, Reduce and (Occasionally) Ignore Them” and “Will You Be My Black Friend?”

Favorite pick-up technique: Prada’s Infusion d’Homme at the Pegu Club, post-midnight.

At this point, we should probably add that we here at Brown do a lot of reading. So much reading, in fact, that we often find ourselves perusing things no one else cares about, like Turold’s Chanson de Roland or GQ’s “Built to Last.” An examination of the latter might better your understanding of the real “GQ” Douche: He’s conscientious, a man who believes that “in tight times, you need to spend wisely.” Unfortunately, he also thinks buying a $19,400 Patek Philippe watch in this, the greatest economic crisis since the Great Depression, counts as “spending wisely.”

“But wait,” the GQ Douche argues, “it’s Built to Last. I can give it to my grandson.” Because that’s the type of guy the “GQ” Douche is — he’d rather his grandkid own a $20,000 watch than a $15 Lego set like everyone else. In conclusion, GQ editors, we’re glad you guys are so good at writing about fashion, because if you ever opened a university, we’d have to forfeit one of the few outright victories we’ve ever had.

Editorials are written by The Herald’s editorial page board . Send comments to editorials(at)browndailyherald.com.

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