Dana Vachon is parlaying his short-lived stint at J.P. Morgan and brief moment in the literary spotlight into a career writing about Wall Street for women's magazines. Take this month's effort, a 5-page spread in Marie Claire called "A Field Guide to Wall Street's Women": the Social Commando, the Ivy Beleaguered, the Nuptialista, and the Big Swinging Chick. What does each of these women tell us about Dana?
The Social Commando "disarms with charm." Her decor features an "oil painting of her mother as a debutante, oil painting of herself as a debutante, framed photos of her and her mother with last summer's boyfriend on the Dalmatian coast." This is a girl whose sole purpose on Wall Street is "to have So Much Fun while avoiding anything that might be Ugh, So Not Fun," and "her 20s expire in a blur of So Much Fun, a swishing memory of body glitter and hiccups, the seasons marked only by a steady recursion of weddings—the last of which is often, and to everyone's surprise, her own." This is the girl so lionized by Jay McInerney, the one so hated by the women on Sex and the City (remember the episode where the girls go to the party in Connecticut thrown by their formerly fun friend who now has two kids? She's this girl). She is old money. Here, we detect a certain longing in Dana's voice, a recognition that while he may mock this character, he knows that, on the eve of his 32nd birthday, he too will settle down with her.
"The Ivy Beleaguered" has a "tunnel-like focus"; she "has no life at all"; "fluent in Mandarin and Spanish, she had a 4.0 in economics and two summers' worth of internships at the best venture-capital shops in Palo Alto." And, most tellingly, "she shops at Club Monaco and Express" and rarely goes out except on sultry summer nights to "hunt for that Indian businessman." Uh, okay! Here's some casual racism and classicism at work. Dana is at once jealous and contemptuous of the Ivy Beleaguered. She is new money, and probably of Asian descent. She has to work hard for what she gets, and Dana hates that she's smarter than he is. He consoles himself by telling himself that she has no life. She would never join the other analysts at the strip club!
"The Nuptialista" has "awesome cocktail party banter"; her signature cocktail is a "vodka Southside at Round Hill Club." Now, let us pause for just one moment. How many of Marie Claire's readers are aware of the existence of the Round Hill Club, the exclusive country club in Greenwich, CT? We're going to go with... maybe 7? Is Dana just fucking with the magazine and its readers, letting them know that even though he deigned to write for them and take their money, that he's still more privileged than they will ever be? Well, unless they marry up, of course. The Nuptialista is of the right social breed for Dana, but when it comes down to it, she's just a little too Charlotte for him—"what she seeks is someone who can promise her a future filled with her past: large houses, green lawns, social prominence." Also, she wants to get married too early. But Dana will definitely be at her wedding.
Finally, there's the "Big Swinging Chick," the only woman in Marie Claire's spread who's wearing a pantsuit. The subtext? She's a big lez, or at least, she's totally emasculated her husband. Dana is friends with this woman, certainly, but is also secretly scared shitless of her, even as he assumes a kind of loveable scamp place in her worldview. She's way too successful, though, for him to ever be really good friends with. Then again, she doesn't seem to have any friends.
A Field Guide to Wall Street Women [Marie Claire, not online]








Comments
Spin City called... Michael J. Fox wants his face and wardrobe back
He's just pissed because their dicks are bigger.
I was just wondering if Dana and Michael J. Fox had been separated at birth.
@HeyThereKiller:
I know, right? Weird.
So this is who Aleksey Veyner will be one day. Fantastic.
This column from Vachon drips with all the painfully awkward nonauthenticity of that time Stephen King wrote about sports for Entertainment Weekly.
Dana, there are certain topics on which you should rightfully hold forth: literary ingenuehood, the virtues of Catholic nasal features, how Justine Bateman was such a tease back in the day, etc.
Topics you have no business expounding upon: women, particularly of the Wall Street variety. Also: Wall Street.
A Field Guide to Wall Street Men.
"Pink Shirt Guy" is from Connecticut or Westchester. Secretly wants to sleep with his mother. Went to some prep school you've never heard of and is in banking because of his insecurities.
"Blue Shirt Guy" is from Long Island or New Jersey. Secretly wants to sleep with his sister. Went to public school and is in banking because of his insecurities.
Both are total douchebags.
:(
He left out Wall Street Woman type I fall into... 'The Other 99%' ... we hate men like Dana Vachon.
That douchebag.
Morz like tihs plz.
What a douche.
I would have pegged him as more of an Alex P. Keaton type. Either way he's douche-tastic.
... that he makes ties out of old beach umbrellas?
I think he's longing for a membership at the Round Heels Club.
Aren't Dana Vachon and Choire BFF's? Color me suprised then that Dana was offered up for "sacraficial douche" treatment normally reserved for Julia Alison.
@KarenUhOh:
Did you mean the Grab Your Ankles Club?
I though a social commando was when you don't wear panties to a tea party.
He's pretty knowledgable for a guy who worked in the mailroom.
@mcginstein: "I would have pegged him?"
It's starting early, folks! Line forms on the right.
Life is short and so is he?
Field guide to Wall Street men, with demographics!:
99% "Dana Vachons" - wannnabes who were always aggressive and intelligent, but have 0 capabilities in finance and are begrudgingly used as cannon fodder by management. Obsessed with the "Wall Street lifestyle" to the detriment of their humanity.
1% "Normal Gifted Human Beings" - People genuinely fascinated with finance who pretty much think that Dana Vachons are unsuccessful pricks with delusions of grandeur and importance.
Zeroes before the decimal point create some weird personality disorders.
to his credit, he also writes very well about swimming nude at social clubs and wearing breeches to Shakespeare In The Park.
Dana's painful descent into male/female dating archetypes will slowly lead him here.
I'd like to see the Big Swinging Chick strap on a rough one and fuck this neo-cliche hack in the ass.
Oh, did I just type that out loud? Sorry.
The new Braunstein.
It's times like this I bet you wish Nick would spring for a scanner.
And to further scare Vahcon, I'll bet each and every one of those women has a copy of "Girl Get Your Mind Right!" in her bag.
Vachon is a publicist's puppet, designed to revive a glossy Brett Easton Ellis image but w/out the advantage of zeitgeist, or the talent & originality that gave B.E.E. depth. This article about women told from an "in the know" point of view feels like he's trying too hard and the affect is silly, like a 7-year old stomping about in his father's dress shoes. Then again, this is Marie Claire.
He looks like the kind of pervert that goes to the public library to look at porn on the computers and giggle when people notice.
for starters: next time you want to write about how women are and what they think, maybe consider asking one? or even letting them ghostwrite it?
@nyobserver: What? Actually inform oneself? Nah. and people wonder why Wall Street is tanking....
Sometimes I think I am being unfair and unthinking when I hate the spoon-fed rich merely on principal, and feel I am committing just another version of Manhattanite prejudice against all Queens-folk as "Bridge and Tunnel--as if we all have Gotti-kid hair and wear striped, untucked dress shirts. I reflect that to judge any member of any class by their class alone is to use a very blunt instrument, is as nasty a form of prejudice as any other, and that it is unbecoming to anyone who would like to think that they're a generally accepting sort who wants to understand and explore the true nature of people and things without the muddying influence of his own intellectual shortcomings--though he may have harbored them all his life.
And then the progressive society to which I have pretended serves me a Dana Vachon. That rich, infantile, clueless, cushioned, incapable-of-honest-reflection, Vaseline-assed, fucking cunt.
As a person with a vagina, who, in 8th grade, kissed a poster of Michael J. Fox as Alex P. Keaton goodnight each and every night AND wrote him a fan letter in which I noted a) our shared Canadian heritage b) the fact that we "totally have the same sense of humor" and c) our exactly identical heights (5' 4") -- I must vigorously protest to comparisons between this vaguely boringly attractive, probably well-intentioned, casually racist/sexist, victim-of-his-own-hype, who-was-that-one-guy-with-that-book-last-summer-you-know-the-one-that-will-take-like-75-years-to-earn-out-its-advance? Lit Boy Du Jour and my former beloved. Just wanted that on the record. Thank you for your time.
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