Diana Vreeland* and I have one thing in common. We loath nostalgia. I get really pissed off when I hear friends talking about the “good old 90’s”, how much they got laid etc. These are guys in their mid-30’s. Many of them got kids now, a wife or long term girlfriend. And the belly that comes with all that. It started with a nine to six job, then the romance Häagen Dazs on the sofa and then those extra kilos as an act of sympathy for the pregnant girlfriend. What I loath more then nostalgic guys in their mid 30’s is nostalgic guys in the early 20’s.

Dude 1: If you could go back to… 16 years old. Would you?

Dude 2: Would I be the same person? I mean, do I know as much as I do now.

Dude 1: It doesn’t matter.

Dude 2: Huh? I mean, would I pass all exams with ease?

Dude 1: I meant bodywize.

Dude 2: Am I to decide if I would have my 16 year old body with todays head now or back then? I don’t want to go back to high school. I’m think…

Dude 1: What ever!

Dude 2: To me that is a biiiig difference.

Dude 1: Fuck that. Which do you prefere, that (points) or the body you had when we went to Bornholm when we were 16.

Dude 2: I did get laid alot back then…

Dude 1: I sure wish I could go back in time. The chicks. The chicks.

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*Editor of American Vogue in the 60’s and 70’s, and a big fan of leopard skin.

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