Whisky Magazine Issue 98
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Dave Broomlooks at the impending death of post-modernism.
Amazing how things come together in seemingly random fashion. Being stuck without luggage in New Orleans necessitated a quick stocking-up on essentials, including, it being as steamy as a sauna, deodorant. In Wallgreen's for some reason my eyes rested on a stick of Old Spice, the epitome of unfashionable old school male fragrance. On the back, it read ‘If your grandfather hadn't worn it, you wouldn't exist'. It went in the basket.
Later that day my friend Charles presented me with shirt suspenders which attached your socks to your shirt tail ensuring the latter doesn't untuck itself from your waistband. I heartily approve of this, standards you know.
Now, sipping on a Sazerac in the Old Absinthe House, I think about how these two incidents are related, of how chapdom is no longer simply a fad and is edging towards the mainstream.
Tweed is making a comeback (though not, I'm relieved to notice, in NOLA), as is facial furniture, tea drinking, classic cocktails and, it would appear, whisky.
Could this, I muse, be part of a wider cultural shift? There's something of a debate among cultural theorists on whether we are seeing the end of post-modernism; I'd read a piece on it by novelist Edward Docx in the August issue of Prospect on the flight over. Now, while this may not be a subject which is keeping you (or me) awake at night, neither can it be denied that pomo has defined art, music, literature, TV, design for the past 30 years. Consciously or not, we're part of the post-m...