Absolutely nothing, until last week, when Woody Allen sued American Apparel. The Woodman, Reuters reports, is the star of the clothing company's new ad campaign without his consent. He says in the lawsuit he never endorses products in the U.S., and is seeking at least $10 million in damages.
Now, which ad exec at American Apparel thought it was a good idea to have a man best associated with frantically anxious sex would match well with a company best associated with raunchily carefree sex run by a man best associated with being the defendant in a few sexual harassment lawsuits and eschewing pants around the workplace? (OK, American Apparel CEO Dov Charney also runs a "vertically integrated, made-in-the-USA, sweatshop-free enterprise," the Web site says, whose simply designed clothes are very popular among a certain subset of hipsters -- and, these days, more suburban teenagers than Mr. Charney would like. And the Woodman left his longtime partner, Mia Farrow, in 1992 for her adopted daughter, who he later married -- not exactly upstanding.)
My girlfriend countered that both Allen and the image American Apparel likes to promote are always thinking about sex. But when Woody thinks about sex, it's something like, "I'm sorry for making that advance. I should be probably just leave. Was that joke earlier funny? No, don't answer, I know it wasn't funny." And when "American Apparel" thinks about sex, it's something like, "Why would I wear a shirt while also wearing tight, electric-colored spandex?" or "Oh, I just walked into an apartment to find a woman only wearing a hooded sweatshirt, let's have sex," and they do. (And you don't have to visit American Apparel's lingerie section -- I visited for research! -- for the raunchiness to bleed through. I'm typing on my parents' couch and when my mom glanced at the homepage a few minutes ago, she shrieked, "Aaron, what are you looking at?")
I don't understand hipster irony sometimes.
Now, which ad exec at American Apparel thought it was a good idea to have a man best associated with frantically anxious sex would match well with a company best associated with raunchily carefree sex run by a man best associated with being the defendant in a few sexual harassment lawsuits and eschewing pants around the workplace? (OK, American Apparel CEO Dov Charney also runs a "vertically integrated, made-in-the-USA, sweatshop-free enterprise," the Web site says, whose simply designed clothes are very popular among a certain subset of hipsters -- and, these days, more suburban teenagers than Mr. Charney would like. And the Woodman left his longtime partner, Mia Farrow, in 1992 for her adopted daughter, who he later married -- not exactly upstanding.)
My girlfriend countered that both Allen and the image American Apparel likes to promote are always thinking about sex. But when Woody thinks about sex, it's something like, "I'm sorry for making that advance. I should be probably just leave. Was that joke earlier funny? No, don't answer, I know it wasn't funny." And when "American Apparel" thinks about sex, it's something like, "Why would I wear a shirt while also wearing tight, electric-colored spandex?" or "Oh, I just walked into an apartment to find a woman only wearing a hooded sweatshirt, let's have sex," and they do. (And you don't have to visit American Apparel's lingerie section -- I visited for research! -- for the raunchiness to bleed through. I'm typing on my parents' couch and when my mom glanced at the homepage a few minutes ago, she shrieked, "Aaron, what are you looking at?")
I don't understand hipster irony sometimes.
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