Can you buy coolness—and change your life forever?
Wednesday, March 28th, 2007
I was never the cool kid in school (big glasses, a unibrow, and a barely noticeable mustache might have been part of the problem), and it seems, thanks to my lame area code, I will never be an It girl, which is too bad since I now have two eyebrows and no mustache. So what’s the deal you ask?
Well, I have a 646 area code. According to an article that appeared in The Christian Science Monitor today, a person can literally have a better life if they have a 212 area code.
Man, imagine being able to rewrite your personal story.
Example.
With my current 646 prefix: “Hi, my name is Kathy and I live in Queens and I like to watch Paula Deen and The Hills.” Boring.
Now, if I had a 212: “Hey there, I’m cool and sophisticated. My friends call me Katia and I travel to exotic locations, eat sushi, and only hang out in the LES—I would never go to Queens, UGH!”
And to prove my point further, Frantz Fils, a party promoter who was quoted in the piece says this: “people–whether they realize it or not–just assume that you’re better off… The boss is always in Manhattan. It’s the city of bosses.”
FYI, Fils lives in Brooklyn.
Of course, pretending to be fabulous isn’t cheap. A 212 can run you around $250, which is why I will stick with my boring 646 prefix. Tragic.
You can read the entire piece here.
I can relate to this pain, especially since I have an even worse area code….the dreaded 347. To make matters worse, I live in Queens and work in the Bronx so I am not even hip enough to work in the city, much less live there.
I love my 347. It helps me maintain my Brooklyn mystique even though I’ve absconded for Soho.
After growing up a 201 and spending seven years as a none too shabby 718, I pretty much assumed I’d get a 646 when we moved to Inwood last year. I was IRRATIONALLY happy when fate handed us 212. I live on the bumfuckest end of the island, but dammit, I have a supermodel’s area code.
It’s disheartening discovering one’s own shallowness. It’s like realizing blondes do have more fun.
A 212 cell phone?? That’s like, giant-panda rare!
wow. it’s like the seinfeld episode where elaine got a new phone number but it wasn’t a 212 area code so a boy she liked decided he didn’t like her anymore because he didn’t believe she lived in the city.
except it’s not seinfeld. it’s smith.
crazy!