Hah, no, we're not. No, instead NYM is just exposing this kid—who goes by "Maximilian" of course—to the ridicule and vitriol of people like us, who decorated their own dorm room with empty whiskey bottles and cigarette ash.
This kid, though! He is going places! Really terrible places!
Maxamilian, voted "preppiest in class" at Choate, "has a sincere love for Stubbs & Wootton slipper shoes and melon-colored pants."
Look at everything about this paragraph!
When other 15-year-olds were going to lacrosse camp, Sinsteden worked for David Easton, a neoclassical decorator in the Albert Hadley/Bunny Williams school. After his first year of college, he interned for Moss and still works for her one day a week. "I finish her sentences," he says. "And she reads my mind."
No, New York. That is not what "other 15-year-olds" were doing. Other 15-year-olds were playing Xbox and texting lewd photos of themselves to one another and getting high and maybe working at the ice cream stand at the park. Also, Maxy, anyone can read your mind. Your mind is a 30-year-old novelty book. Look, we're reading your mind right now: "I'm a tool."
Still, we cannot fault his one gesture toward the sacred duty of a guy not to be THAT fucking guy:
It's not unusual to find twenty friends crammed into Sinsteden's room, enjoying the contents of his well-stocked bar.
Ah, college. Anyone with liquor or drugs is tolerable for a night!
Make sure to check out the slideshow! It features this immortal phrase: "The tie-backs are repurposed ascots."