What I learned at SXSW...yet another one

Him: (eyeing my SXSW "panelist" badge) I believe I met with your company's European branch on my last trip to London.

Me: (torn between disbelief, laughter or a swift kick to the groin) I think you have me confused with someone else.

No London office. No private jet. No holier than thou attitude. Just little old me...about to kick your VIP self in the groin.

Before leaving for Austin I wrote about being on the fence about SXSW this year. I am seeing this echoed across the blogosphere. Looks like SXSW could be jumping the shark, making room for more intimate focused grassroots conferences to emerge (eh, hem TribeCon, cough cough). But to quote Marc Nathan I'm not jumping on the ‘down with SXSW bandwagon.'

While I wasn't as fulfilled or inspired as last year, it was a valuable learning experience. A few lessons:

1. Intimacy trumps Popularity: Cool cliques are what you make them. Screw the lines and the lists. Find like minds and congregate. The best party I attended was the NOLA party. The second best was when I led our group of 15 peeps into an empty bar- not a popular decision, mind you- and started a pretty spectacular dance party. All we needed was us. Getting wrapped on on finding the party ruins the party.

2. Focus, grasshopper: Crowded management sessions show that more folks are trying to harness creativity and social media in a measurable efficient way. Process is the new black. Forget followers. (There's a bot for that.) Focus on fundamentals like strategy, goals and accountability.

3. Take this job and love it: I love my job. My clients are the bomb. And one of the greatest things about social media is the ability to even the playing field and pin point opportunity for the little guys to win big. And maybe even stick it to the man.

Speaking of which, what happens when you are the man? How does an anti-establishment instigator create an establishment? Now, that's what I want to learn- management skills for people with problems with authority. I hope SXSW is listening.

SXSW: South By South Wasted?

Confession: I have been on the fence about going back to SXSW this year. Hearing it referred to as SXSpringBreak this afternoon didn't help much. Obviously, it doesn't bolster the matrimonial bliss to have Hubby think I am heading to some hedonistic romp to get crazy naked drunk...at least not without him. But, more importantly, it makes me question the value proposition that I am sacrificing several days of Danger time for.

Last year was a magical experience. I was on the cusp of a new endeavor and surrounded by a bunch of rabble rousing idealists who felt we were making a difference and leaving our mark. I was also naive and admittedly easy impressed by shiny objects. The past 12 months have taught me some hard lessons in looking past the smoke and mirrors to critically assess the BS hidden beneath some big red bows. And, I am savvy enough to know that I can download recycled presentations from conference circuit keynotes on Slideshare without any travel expenses or hefty entrance fee. I might not get a chance to shake hands with Twitterati. My loss.


Don't get me wrong. I am honored to be a part of the New Orleans tech crew taking the city by storm. And my ego is through the roof at being part of a SXSW panel. Not to mention, my schedule is double and triple booked with panels that I am excited to see. Where I look forward to learning something, multiple new things that I can bring back to enhance FSC. Which brings me to the question- Is SXSW still the place to learn from the best of the best?

I've seen some pretty stellar things happening at small grassroots conferences across the country- Big Omaha, Social South and even my little baby TribeCon. Conference that are low on glitz but big on substance. Low on corporate sponsors but big on community. Low on douchebaggery and big on authenticity.

It's no big secret that I kind of like sticking it to the man and rallying for the little guy. Maybe I am just being jaded. It wouldn't be the first time. I promise not to judge or make assumptions based purely on what could just be a successful growth model. I am hoping to have an incredible and magical experience. In fact, I am betting a lost weekend with my favorite people on it. Not a trifling wager.

What do you think? What are some of the reasons you are or aren't going to SXSW?

PS. Be forewarned, Mr. "un-popular in high school and making up for it on Twitter" douchebag person, what happens at SXSW does not in fact stay at SXSW. It perpetuates a swarmy and silly misrepresentation that discredits the merit of the conference. And if you ruin SXSW for me, and for the hundreds of others who are hoping for more than networking with the beautiful people, I will be angry.

It's a Very Brady Wednesday

sap·py (sp)
adj. sap·pi·er, sap·pi·est
1. Full of sap; juicy.2. Slang Excessively sentimental; mawkish.
3. Slang Silly or foolish.

You've been warned. The following contains excessive sentimental content.

Maybe I am just getting to the New Year's point where you take stock of your life. Between the Superbowl (Who Dat!), Mardi Gras and well, life, there hasn't been whole lot of time to be introspective. But, every once in a while it hits me completely out of the blue...Life is good.

I have a job. More importantly for the first time I feel like I have a career, doing what I love with people and clients that are challenging. And not in the "holy hell what now? Just shoot me." way. In the "holy hell what's next? Just pinch me." way.

I have a family. Sure Grandma is a little crazy and Danger got kicked out isn't quite ready for nursery school. But she said "squirrel", hasn't gotten any more colds and her new nanny misses her on the weekends.

Hubby is about to realize his life long dream of owning his own place. A jazz bar with gourmet food. On Frenchmen. Pretty much the place to be. And is Tweeting about it.

I live in a city that is reinventing the American dream. Where douchebags old white guys bureaucracy, hipsters and feisty instigators can coexist.

My BFF invites me over for homemade pate. 7 different kinds of homemade pate. And two days later I get to return the favor with 40 pounds of boiled crawfish.

Sure, there are issues. My waistline being just one (see above re: pate & crawfish). But who am I to complain?

Who am I kidding? Yours Truly lives to complain. But not right now. Right now I am going to enjoy the silly sappy happy feeling of being pretty damn happy.

PS Eff you laundry. Yes, I see you and the dust bunnies silently plotting my demise. You will not kill my buzz. Same goes for you, Mr. Time Sheet.

Who Dat!

American Apparel Hits Bottom

When I came across the American Apparel "Best Bottom" contest I couldn't shake the wave of utter disgust and disdain that I felt. But I also couldn't pinpoint why.


Sure, there is the blatant objectification of women. And the exploitation of amateur models for commercial gain. There's the unfortunate placement of mostly nude women near the innocent toddler touting the "Expanded Kid's line." And, yeah, Dov Charney sends shivers of nausea down my back, with his smarmy workplace ethics and seedy soft core porn ads (Don't get me started on the facial hair).

But, his unconventional creativity has built an empire and he uses his influence to fight some pretty worthy causes, like immigration and Prop 8. I usually respect and admire most things rogue and anti-establishment. In fact, it's kind of my thing.

So where did this passionate hipster disdain come from? Have I gone the way of the over the hill counter culture crusader turned yuppie? Maybe I'm threatened by the next generation of young idealists. It's not entirely out of the question. Yours Truly is not impervious to the occasional bout of petty jealousy. (Hello, Heidi Klum in a bikini? Bitch.)

Or maybe hipsters are the new teenyboppers. A subculture of superficial skinny jeans searching for the shiniest object.

Whatever the case, I can't shake it. But I don't want to close my mind and become a judgmental old coot. I'm pretty sure some of my friends might in fact be hipsters. Possibly even my own father. (Yes, it's true. He is partial to avant garde art and gold lame tights and I love him dearly for it).

So, here's the deal, I promise not to judge you by your tight fitting ironic tee. But, I will not give up my LATFH addiction.

And, I will do my best to not buy anything retail from American Apparel. While I support their fair wage practices and endorse many of their causes, Charney makes me feel dirty. It will be hard, but I will have to find my mesh unitards somewhere else with a little more class. Like PoleDancingClass.com.

PS As a special belated Holiday gift, I present to you the American Apparel Christmas ad. Enjoy.

Out With the Old, In With the New

The first time I heard the phrase "Play with a purpose" I scoffed and put into the Dr. Phil mom-ism category right alongside "Use your words." But lately, it's been playing on repeat in my head.

In painfully stereotypical fashion, I find myself introspective on the eve of a new decade. I even have a new mantra...Perspective. And, I find myself asking,

Am I playing with a purpose?

Or more appropriately, living with a purpose. At work. At home. With friends and family. When you think about it, there are so many tasks and obligations that we robotically perform every day. Do they have a purpose? And if not, why bother?

Resolutions aren't really my style. But, I do love a good What's In/What's Out feature. You know, where they trash last years trends and forecast next years- ie Britney is soooo last year. This year is all about Lindsay. (OK, so I clearly haven't picked up a magazine in 5 years, but you get the point.)

Anyway, for me 2010 is all about Perspective. So, if Perspective is In, then what's Out...

*C'mon. Not only is there always a recurring trend, but Yours Truly is nothing if not passionate.

Don't get me wrong, Independence is still hot. Snarky is kind of sexy. And let's face it, sometimes throwing punches feels damn good. I've been around long enough to know that what's old always becomes new again (Hello, leggings?) and what's In and what's Out is merely a matter of opinion. Or perspective.

So, tell me, what's your resolution, mantra or trend for the new year? I know you have one. Go ahead, use your words:)

I am a Kool-Aidaholic

My name is Tiffany. And I drank the Kool Aid.

Most recently it was the social media Kool Aid. But it goes back a lot further, starting with a junior high discovery of the Sex Pistols. I bought every album. I covered my walls in posters. I died my hair purple, bought combat boots, safety pinned my torn t-shirts and memorized every word of Sid & Nancy. I was punk drunk.

I can't remember all of the flavors and varieties that have since sent me reeling. (Which is probably for the best) This isn't to say that I am fickle, floating about from one shiny object to the next. I've been hooked on some for years. In fact, as a professional bartender, Hubby's is a particularly intoxicating blend that I plan to imbibe in copious amounts for years to come. Because not all Kool Aid is bad. So, how can you tell? That's a question I have been pondering a lot lately.

I am admittedly overzealous by nature, but I think that there a few factors that propel me into dizzy sugary gluttony:

- Peer pressure. I am a glutton for approval.
- The urge to belong. Who doesn't want to find a community of like-minded people?
- An innate passion and enthusiasm for the Kool Aid at hand. This is where it gets tricky.

I am a passionate and enthusiastic person. I get caught up. I get excited. But for every Hubby there are a thousand Sex Pistols. Don't follow? For every good flavor that will sustain you for years to come, there is another that will ultimately leave you with a bad case of heartburn.

I've decided on a few rules of thumb to keep myself in check and avoid sleepless nights.

1. Read the Ingredients
On the back of that Punk Rock Kool Aid package are a bunch of ingredients that still appeal to me. Non-conformity, rebellious spirit, questioning authority, propensity toward profanity, etc... But there are even more that don't. Anarchy, nihilism, loud noise, disdain for yuppie middle America. Turns out that while I will always identify with a certain counter culture ideology, those aren't the traits that define me. My high concentration ingredients don't match up.

2. Sip. Don't Gulp.
Oh, moderation, you cruel beast. I am more of the "Gimme more! Gimme more! Nom, nom, nom." excessive type. Screw the sample cup, I'll take a gallon. But, if you gulp, you miss the nuances of each individual ingredients, both good and bad. And I find myself asking, what's the rush? Slow down. Savor the flavor.

3. Step Away from the Spokesmodel.
Who doesn't love the Kool Aid Man? He's smiley. He's friendly and fun. And...he has no depth. He's a mascot. Over the past 75 years he's changed dramatically to suit the current trends. He shifts based on popular consumer opinion-likely sourced from shopping mall focus groups. Basically, he is a cleverly crafted character created to manipulate you into buying what he is selling. Think used car salesman, but with cartoon charisma. Ah, charisma. I am a sucker for charisma. Flash me grin, give me a compliment and I will gladly buy your neon orange Pinto. Did I say "will?" I meant "would." The jig is up. Go sell crazy elsewhere.

4. Serve to Friends.
Best case scenario, your BFF loves it, asks for a crate and you blissfully discover yet another common interest. But, if BFF takes one sip and spits it out, take note. Now, defend away. To each her own. By no means succumb to peer pressure. It's true that some things are worth fighting for. But, if you find yourself regularly fighting your trusted circle, you have to think that maybe they have a point. Step outside of the fishbowl and get some feedback. It will help you hone in on the faults in your arguments and potential save you from hazardous allergic reactions.

5. Create Your Own Ratio
I love me some social media Kool Aid. Bring on the pitcher! But lately, I've noticed that high concentration leads to negative side effects, so I am tweaking the formula. One part professional, one part personal, then dilute. Don't be afraid to mix. A dash of Sex Pistols here, a dash of Community there. Variety is the spice of life and you might stumble upon an incredible new combination.

So, there you have it. My shopper beware Kool Aid guidelines. Posted mostly entirely to keep Yours Truly from making poor decisions. Added Bonus: I am now comfortable knowing that I have triumphantly beat a metaphor into submission.

Cheers!

*Gulp* (Damn. Baby steps.)