After an entire season of having his sleep interrupted by Betty, the baby, and Conrad Hilton, Don finally had to wake himself up. This seemed to be one of the themes of this episode, as Don put all his effort into to saving Sterling Cooper, and came to terms with the fact that he couldn't do the same for his failed marriage.


When his relationship with Connie was severed after the news that Sterling Cooper and its parent company were being sold, Don was justifiably bitter, saying, "You come and go as you please, and you don't care that my future is tied up in this mess because of you." It's ironic that it completely escapes Don that he just verbalized exactly how Betty feels about their marriage.

Connie replies, "I've got everything I have on my own. It's made me immune to those who complain and cry because they can't. I didn't take you as one of them, Don. Are you?" He's not. And Connie's speech was the horse kick in the head Don needed to stop feeling sorry for himself and start feeling empowered as a man who is actually in control of his own destiny.

Like Connie, Don is immune to those who "complain and cry" at the idea that they don't have something of their own—namely, Betty.


But unlike Connie—who took a shine to Don because he saw a piece of himself in the creative genius—Don, at times, resents in others what he does himself. Seriously though, didn't you reflexively rubberneck and think, "Who you callin' a whore?" It isn't even a pot/kettle situation: Betty hasn't even consummated her relationship with Henry Francis yet. (And yes, she did fuck that guy in that bar that one time, but her extramarital bedpost is still relatively intact compared to Don's, which has been whittled down to a toothpick at this point.)

More ridiculous was Don's insistence that Betty should see a doctor because she hasn't been "herself". The fact of the matter is that she hasn't been herself during the entire marriage—and possibly for her entire life. She's been the woman she was told she should be. The change Don has seen is evidence that she's actually been getting in touch with herself and her wants and her needs, and she's realizing that Don doesn't fulfill them. She was right when she said she deserved more.


But Don was right, too. Betty built herself a life raft in order to jump ship from her marriage. Don wasn't exactly the whole problem—depending on him to make her happy was. And now she's going to depend on Henry. Will she have to go through a second divorce to realize that what she wanted and needed was independence?


Which brings us to Peggy. Earlier, Roger told Don, "You're not good at relationships because you don't value them." Don's relationship with Peggy in this episode mirrored that of his relationship with Betty. He doesn't ask, he just assumes that she'll follow him around "like a nervous poodle," and everyone thinks he does all her work, even him. He's taken her for granted, saying, "There's not one thing that you've done here that I couldn't live without." She lets him know that she's had other offers—just like Betty.


But unlike his interactions with Betty, Don tries hard to win Peggy back. Like many people, Don subconsciously places more importance on the work that Peggy does more than the work of a housewife. It's interesting how in every scene in his office, Peggy always sat on the right, and Don—in the power position—on the left. Now their roles are reversed. And he says everything to Peggy that he should've been saying to his wife, like, "I've been hard on you, but only because I think I see you as an extension of myself. And you're not."

Perhaps Don took Roger's comment about valuing relationships to heart, because he stresses to Peggy, Pete, Lane, and Roger how indispensable they each are. He seems to know exactly what to say to everyone to make them feel valuable—except for his own estranged wife.


Or his children, for that matter. Although he does try.


Still, his efforts are paying off in some ways. Peggy needed that validation from Don, and now she's sure of her worth—and it doesn't involve fetching coffee for Roger.


Joan—and Roger—however, always knew exactly how valuable she was, and is.


Trudy's pretty valuable, too. She's becoming a Lady MacBeth of sorts, and is proving to be instrumental to Pete's success. It's yet to be seen if he knows this.


Unfortunately, though, the eldest Draper kids are merely afterthoughts. Are they really gonna live with Carla for those whole six weeks that Betty is in Reno?


At the end of the episode, the closing song included the lyrics, "The future is much better than the past. In the future, you will find a love that lasts." Betty's face seems to imply otherwise. Like Don said, "Something happened—something terrible—and the way that people saw themselves is gone." We shall wait and see.

We see our heros and heroines in odd situations: Betty sensual, Peggy naked in bed with an unknown man, and Don face-down on a hotel floor.


Back at the office, Don tries to impress Conrad Hilton by ordering his secretary to hold his calls. The look on her face is priceless.


Betty's fellow Junior Leaguers have read the recent blockbuster environmental book Silent Spring, and invoke it in their fight against an ugly water tower in their neighborhood. Also: "It's not adorable to pretend like you're not adorable," apparently.


Betty sneaks a call in Don's office with Henry Francis, her new father-surrogate. Notice at the end, she pulls on the Don's always-locked Bluebeard drawer to see if he left it unlocked, and then gives up.


"Can I keep it?" Duck tries to woo Peggy to his new firm with the lure of an ugly Hermes scarf.


A Melba Toast box! A callback to Betty's complaining that all the Melba Toast was gone.


Betty's all over herself in that sundress — about to cheat on the vibrating clothesdryer, perhaps?


Betty tells crush Henry Francis "We all have skills we don't use."


Sally's teacher thinks she's so hot, and tries the "hitting on you by pretending you're hitting on me" trick, but Don blocks her advances by telling her "I'm not bored."


Roger Sterling: the Kramer of this show.


Don, seeming to forget that she knows where the bodies are buried, is a total dick to Peggy. "Every time I turn around you've got your hand in my pocket. There's not one thing that you've done here that I couldn't live without. You're good, get better, stop asking for things." Funny how Cooper could say the same thing to Don!


New email signature: "I wanna take you in that bedroom, lock the door, take your clothes off with my teeth, throw you on the bed, and give you a go around like you've never had."


Betty knows Don's contract with Sterling Cooper is a proxy for his contract with her. "Where do you think you'll be in three years?"


Don meets wholesome draft-dodgers Doug and Sandy, and takes the red pill(s).


Oops, the red pill means Don has to watch his father tell a dirty joke about hillbillies. Worst Matrix ever!


The hippie robbers called Don "Cadillac." So his ensuing injuries are, of course, a "fender bender."


Betty gets the fainting couch of her sex dreams.


Cooper reminds Don that he's in no position to fight the contract, because of what Cooper knows. You might even say he's lucky to even get to sign a contract like that, when plenty of full grown men who are who they say they are would be happy to sign away three years of their lives to Sterling Cooper.

One minute Grandpa Gene's here, the next there's a baby living in his room. One minute you think you might be moving to London, the next you find you're not. One minute you think your husband's about to be a chief resident, the next you find he'll never be a surgeon. One minute you think you're running a glamorous New York office — the next you're howling over a bloody, shredded appendage.

Last night's episode began with Sally voicing her fear of the dark. Or, as she put it: "I'm afraid of what's going to happen when you turn the lights out." It's not that she's afraid of the unknown: She's afraid of her worst fears lurking there, in her own house.

When Betty was cuddling with the new baby, Bobby asked, "Can I pet him?" Sally, on the other hand, stayed far away. Later, Betty told Don, "She won't even go in his room." Change is not always easy.

At Sterling Cooper, we learn it's soon to be Joan's — Mrs. Harris' — last day. But when her husband comes home late — and drunk — Joan finds out that he didn't make chief resident. "You're not going to be able to leave your job," he says, but she replies, "that's done." Things have changed: Joan thought she was leaving the job behind and starting a whole new life, but now she realizes she'll have to alter her plans. Her face before turning out the light was amazing: Sadness, anger, weariness yet strength and resolve, all in that one moment, one expression.

The arrival of The Brits at Sterling Cooper was also a sign of change. Sometimes change comes in a neatly wrapped gift. But just as inside Layne Price's "gift" box was a snake and the message "We're sending you to Bombay," not all change is welcome. Earlier, Bert Cooper - who seems to be woefully out of touch - hinted that Don might be transferred to London, but at a meeting, dashing newcomer Guy McKendrick informed the department heads that things will, for the most part, stay the same. Or, as Pete explained it to Harry: "They reorganized us and you're the only one in the room who got a promotion." Sometimes change sucks!

Meanwhile, Betty was trying to change Sally's mind about the baby, using "fairies" and a Barbie doll. Sally, an astute realist, declared: "Baby Gene can't write." The doll seemed to know that she was also a snake in a box, so to speak, and couldn't even look Sally in the eye. (Related: Could Sally's disinterest in the Barbie be evidence of a growing disinterest in all things "girly"?)

One thing that was odd — when dashing Guy McKendrick addressed "Mrs. Harris"…

…Joan — who always keeps it together — broke down and cried. For a change.

Thinking that it was Joan's last day, Peggy made the effort to tell her that she appreciated Joan's efforts, although, "It's just we can't all be you." But Peggy's heartfelt expression of gratitude was interrupted by the creatives getting splattered with blood. The dashing Guy McKendrick's foot! Mangled by a riding mower! Peggy fainted — in Pete's arms — but Joan! Joan was grace under pressure, quickly making a tourniquet (perhaps she would make a good doctor!). Surely having her hubs fail at the hospital while she managed her keep her composure while covered in blood was no accident on the part of the writers. In any case, the foot-mangling: How can something so horrible be so hilarious? One of the best lines in this episode was actually Roger Sterling, later saying, "Somewhere in this business, this has happened before." (Plus! the title of this episode is basically a joke: "Guy Walks into an Advertising Agency.")

While the Brit was on the verge of bleeding to death, Don was taking a meeting with Conrad Hilton, the famed hotelier whose first wife, Mary Adelaide Barron, had a son named William Barron Hilton — Paris Hilton's grandfather. (Conrad's second wife? Zsa Zsa Gabor.) Conrad — Connie — and Don had met previously; and when Connie asked the loaded question, "So what do you want?" he was disappointed by Don's answer. Connie scolded: "The next time someone like me asks you a question like that, you need to think bigger." Don, who'd gotten his hopes up about a job in London only to be quietly let down, had a comeback for that, and it involved more snake imagery and the moral: "One opportunity at a time."

But change really was the theme of the episode, and Joan had a great little speech at the hospital: "One minute you're on top of the world, the next some secretary's running you over with a lawn mower." She was referring to the dashed hopes of the dashing Brit, but also to her own dreams of quitting her job, which she would now have to abandon.

Sally's Barbie ended up in the bushes, where she meant for it to be: Out of the house.

Don returning it to her room made her scream, and Sally finally explained her fear about the baby and her dead grandfather: "He's called Gene, he sleeps in his room, he looks just like him…" Valid points! But instead of talk of "fairies" — like she got from her mom — Sally got a declarative "there's no such thing as ghosts" from her father, as well as some actual physical contact.

Don finally gave Sally what she really needed: Some reassurance, some parenting, the hand-holding that a child requires when going through a big change (without the bribery of dolls, or "fairy" talk). And maybe we all need someone to gently walk us through change? 1963 was full of change — in this episode there were references to Iwo Jima and the draft — and it's only July. In August, Martin Luther King, Jr. delivered his "I Have A Dream" speech — marking a huge, public moment of a wave of change.

Earlier: Mad Men: Blood, Sweat, And Tears
Mad Men: "It's A Dead Man's Hat. Take It Off."
Mad Men: "I'm Peggy Olson, And I Want To Smoke Some Marijuana"
Mad Men: "Just Don't Get Pregnant."
Mad Men: Ann-Margret Gives Master Class In Womanly Arts
"His Name Is Dick - After A Wish His Mother Should Have Lived To See"

There will be blood! In fact, the increasingly unhinged grammar-schooler, we quickly learn, has taken her acting out to another level: assaulting a fellow pupil, Becky Pearson - "Sally told me she's a bruiser," is how Betty describes this female version of Golding's "Piggy" character - and shoving her head into the faucet of a public water fountain during gym class. This scene, of course, sees the return of Sally's flower-childish schoolteacher, Miss Farrell - Suzanne Farrell, for those familiar with dance history - who has called Don and Betty into her classroom to inform them of the situation, and to make clear to audiences (as if we hadn't already noticed) that every adult in Sally's life besides her parents seems to actually pay attention to her. Betty for one, is too busy hiding from reality while simultaneously regressing to a childlike state: The soon-to-be mother who needs to be mothered? Sure, but I, for one, am beginning to tire of her mild hysterics.


Back at the office, the resident British bean counter, Layne Price is on an alliterative, cost-cutting tear, much to Don's chagrin. I loved how he arrived late... and left early.


Is it just me, or did this brief glimpse of Joan's eyes give the appearance of barefly-contained amusement?


After setting Price straight with an offer of spirits and a well-crafted sales pitch in defense of his creative team, Don returns home to a strangely-empty home and a ringing telephone. On the other line: Sally's apologetic teacher, Miss Farrell. Where she seemed appealingly adult and self-possessed (compared to the Drapers, that is) earlier that day, here - replete with cradled cocktail and fallen bra strap - she comes across as not only flirtatious but fragile, as if she is somehow mirroring the delicacy she spied in Betty that morning in order to gain Don's attentions. ("I don't even know why I"m calling," she says. Ha! We do!) However, I'm not sure that Miss Farrell's dancing - literally and figuratively - will lead to any sort of dalliance between her and Don: despite telling Betty that it was "no one" on the phone, he seems bemused, not besotted. Perhaps he's realizing that, to every woman but his own daughter, he's a sort of father figure.


The episode's labor and delivery scenes will no doubt be the most discussed. I've never given birth, so I can't speak for the realism - or lack thereof - of Betty's experience of the stages of childbirth, but I found her rapid descent into a helpless, mildly-psychotic, hallucinatory fugue state annoying at best, insulting at worst, if only because, as Peggy says later on in the episode, the Drapers are "old hat" at this. Are we to really believe that Betty would fall apart so profoundly at the very moment her mothering instincts are most needed? Perhaps, but it's such a far cry from the self-awareness and possession she displayed in previous seasons that it rings a bit false to me, even with the added trauma of her father's death.


To further underscore this helplessness, Mad Men producers inserted this brief scene of Betty - - stuffed into a desk, of sorts, that she can actually fit into - struggling with a pen and her hospital admission papers. (As for that "pineapple" line, the tropical fruit was apparently considered an abortifacient.)


Teacher knows best.


To be honest, I wasn't particularly intrigued by the scenes between Don and his new hospital waiting-room buddy, first-time dad and prison guard Dennis Hobart. After a few swigs of Johnny Walker Red (and a few puffs on a cigarette) Don pushes back at Dennis' insistence that the criminals in his charge at Sing Sing have only their parents to blame - "it's a bullshit excuse," Don says - but the parallels between the particulars of Don's birth and Dennis' own fears for his wife and baby ("If something happens to her...how could I love that baby?" were interesting, as was the beginning of an assertion that would be repeated by Don throughout the episode (to Dennis, to Sally, to Peggy) that everything will be "fine". Oh, and did anyone notice Lisa Simpson made a cameo as the nurse?


As Don is engaging in his strange getting-to-know-you session with Dennis down the hallway, back in the delivery room, Betty's psychosis is stepped up a notch, either because or despite of the 25ml of Demerol that have been added to her IV cocktail. "I can't do it," she protests while writhing on the table, having abandoned all sense of personal agency. "I'm just a housewife. Why are you doing this to me."


Those 25 mg of Demerol, of course, lead us into another drug-induced fugue sequence, in which Betty goes in search of her father, finding him in the kitchen of her Ossining home, mopping up blood. "I left my lunch pail on the bus, and I'm having a baby," she informs him in her girly voice. Her mother, and, presumably, a mortally-wounded Medgar Evers - just one of many nods (Admiral televisions! Ebony; Jet; Hollis the elevator operator; Roger's snarling sarcasm with regards to Martin Luther King) to the racial tensions and realities of the period - also make an appearance. "You're a housecat," Gene tells her. "You're very important and you have little to do". Adds her mother, holding up a handkerchief soaked with Evers' blood: "You see what happens to people who speak up?"


Back in the real world, Duck Peterson has not only reappeared, but is actively courting both Pete Campbell and Peggy Olson to rival agency Grey. I saw this scene less about the Pete/Peggy relationship - although I love how quickly Pete pivoted from disavowing a "secret relationship" between himself and Peggy to accepting congratulations for the pair's supposed "focused ambition" - than about Peggy's idea of her own importance. The confidence seen in her pot-smoking session has quickly given way to insecurity. "I don't know," she answers when Duck asks her, "You're a freewheeling career gal with great ideas. Am I wrong?"


He's not wrong, of course, and, armed with the ammunition that is Duck's attention, Peggy drops in on Don to ask for a raise: Her secretary, she says, does not respect her because of her low pay; Paul Kinsey makes more, yet doesn't do as good work. And, then there's the little issue of the equal pay act. Don's rejection of Peggy's request- and, by extension, her - is swift, and her disappointment palpable, punctuated by the yearning for what he has and she does not. (Notice how she fondled those baby shoes?) And then this: "You're gonna be fine, Peggy." She doesn't even hear him - why should she? He's been saying it so often, it's hard to believe it anymore.


Back to the baby! Despite Don's veiled disapproval over the idea of naming his newborn boy Eugene, thanks to a quick glance at the birth certificate - someone alert World Net Daily! The longform birth certificate has been found! - we see that Betty not only gone ahead and named her new son, but that she is referring to herself by her full Christian name and maiden surname. Just as I worry about Betty, I worry about the baby: "Is he going to sleep in Grandpa Gene's room?" asks Sally, raising the specter of retaliatory violence. And another baby may have met an untimely end: For whatever reason, when Don passes Dennis and his wife in the hospital hallway, Dennis averts his eyes - and there is no newborn to be seen.


The significance - if any - of Eugene Scott Draper's birth date has yet to reveal itself. According to a quick perusal of Wikipedia, nothing particularly notable happened on the day and year of his birth (we ran his birth date though an astrology generator and came up with this - anyone want to analyze?) although, perhaps coincidentally, on that date, a year later, Americans saw the murder of civil rights activists Andrew Goodman, James Chaney and Mickey Schwerner. I would like to explore the themes of race, civil rights and violence more in this episode - particularly the connection between Evers and the dearly-departed Gene Hofstadt - but that will have to wait for another day.

One of the most notable scenes took place between three generations: Grandpa Gene, Don Draper, and Bobby. As Gene showed Bobby a Prussian helmet with dried blood, Don said, "Bobby, it's a dead man's hat. Take it off." This was such a layered statement: Not only was Don trying to wrestle the parenting role away from Gene and exert his authority over his, but Don's actually the one wearing a dead man's "hat." Name, identity, etc. A father's warning to a son not to make the mistakes he made?

The episode began with a great segment showing Grandpa Gene teaching Sally how to drive. The gorgeous smile on her face says so much: It's not just that she's having fun; it's not just that she's proud that her grandfather let her take the wheel. She loves being loved, craves the attention that Grandpa Gene gives her — and which she rarely gets from her parents. (An aside: My grandfather taught me to drive and this scene made my heart swell.)

In addition to time and attention, Grandpa Gene tells Sally: "You're smart… You could really do something. Don't let your mother tell you otherwise." Wise words. Parenting from a strong father figure — which Sally clearly relished.

There were parent issues of another sort going on in Peggy's life: She told her mother that she planned to get an apartment in Manhattan, and her mother did not take it well at all. "Family's cheap," Her mother spat. "Someday both of youse is gonna feel this — this broken heart I'm carryin… You'll get raped, you know that." Peggy's sister Anita tried to diffuse the situation, telling Peggy, "The whole Father dying situation… that was hard on her." Lessons are learned through parents — even if that lesson is learning when to walk away (or move out).

Of course, Sterling Cooper was dealing with Fatherhood, as the company's new client, Horace Cook Jr., was looking to spend $3 million of his dad's money on promoting jai alai in the U.S. At a lunch with Don and Pete, Horace talked about being the "father" of the sport, and impressing his father someday by giving him a team. Pete, who has dad drama of his own, was on board for making sure Horace got what he wanted, telling Don: "So he was born with a lot of money> He has a dream and it's out job to make it come true." But in a meeting between Don, Bert, Lane and Horace Sr., Horace the elder said: "Should you be lucky enough to strike gold, remember that your children weren't there when you swung the axe." Quite an interesting take on inheritance and passing things on to your kids.

The crappy parenting Sally's been getting was on full display when a cop arrived at the house to inform Betty that Grandpa Gene was dead. Sally was, quite literally, left out.

Sally's outburst when the adults were laughing while mourning Gene came as no surprise, but its worth pointing out that while Betty brushes Sally off ("Go watch TV"), Sally doesn't move until she gets a silent, motionless okay from Don. Even though Don spends so much time away from home, the thread between father and daughter is somehow strong, trusting, understanding. And when Sally did go watch TV, what she saw was more death, namely, the now-iconic image of Buddhist monk Thích Quảng Đức self-immolating in protest of South Vietnam's treatment of Buddhists.

Of course, it wasn't all doom, gloom and daddy issues on Sunday night:

Don broke the ant farm! Is it the end of the "gynocracy"? Ant colonies need queens to survive…

…And Joan killed them all. Dead.

Joan taught Peggy a thing or two about copywriting.

The Patio commercial was ear-piercingly awful…

Although Peggy's "I told you so" look was amazing.

And watching Sal act out the Patio routine was hilarious, even if his poor wife suddenly realized the truth about her marriage.

Earlier: Mad Men: "I'm Peggy Olson, And I Want To Smoke Some Marijuana"
Mad Men: "Just Don't Get Pregnant."
An Open Letter To Jon Gosselin From Don Draper
Mad Men: Ann-Margret Gives Master Class In Womanly Arts
"His Name Is Dick - After A Wish His Mother Should Have Lived To See"

Bitter much? I don't blame her. The latest episode of Mad Men opens with a musical number from the 1963 film version of Bye, Bye Birdie in which a wide-eyed Ann-Margret flirts shamelessly with the camera while Sterling Cooper's male members look on, enraptured. The occasion for the screening: Inspiration for a new ad campaign for "Patio,", a Tab-like soft drink that will later become Diet Pepsi and is meant to keep 60s ladies looking svelte and feeling sexy. When Peggy expresses disdain for the idea, she is quickly shot down by the men, who have not quite shaken off the shiver that went up their legs minutes prior. (Shorter Ken Cosgrove: You may be skinny again, and therefore attractive, but your opinion still means shit.)

The focus on women's weight turns out to be a recurring theme. Back in the Draper household, Don chastises Betty over the missing melba toast - "Jesus, Bets. Have some oatmeal. That baby is going to weigh a ton." - and the first thing out of Joan Holloway's mouth later that day is praise for Betty's baby-bump. ("Other than Wilma Flintstone, I haven't seen someone carry so well." A few minutes later, Roger Sterling weighs in: "Oh look, Princess Grace just swallowed a basketball.")

Uh, thanks?


The Drapers have more pressing issues to deal with than Betty's expanded belly, of course. Betty's ailing father, Gene, has been abandoned by his wife, and her brother, William, is angling to put him in an old folks' residence and acquire his rightful prize: the ancestral home. Betty, who has invited her extended family for a visit is, in her own passive-aggressive way, having none of it. Pregnancy, you see, is a "condition" that works in a woman's favor when appropriate.



But back to Peggy, the real star of this episode, and, I'd argue, the series itself. As the opening scenes make painfully clear, the scrappy copywriter's dealings with men need an update. Luckily, Joan Holloway - Harris? - can, as always, provide assistance:



As can the previously maligned Ann-Margret. Being 25 and acting 14 is apparently easier than it looks at first glance. It broke my heart to see Peggy defaulting to this type of performance so quickly.



In what was perhaps the episode's most painful scene, Peggy goes over the soda campaign with Don, whose awe for Ann-Margret seems in direct proportion to his disgust for a strongly-opinionated woman. "You're not an artist, Peggy; you solve problems," he tells her after she speaks of her disdain for the Patio pitch. "Leave some tools in your toolbox." Somehow, coming from Don, this sentiment doesn't seem nearly as benevolent as Bobbie Barrett's "it's a powerful business" iteration.



Peggy, however, is nothing if not a quick study. Hot on the heels Don's minor smackdown - and a strange encounter with Roger Sterling in the office elevator - she decides to test out some of those previously neglected tools at a Brooklyn watering hole near her home, where she reels in a well-meaning, but fairly bland young student with the very same line she saw Joan deploy so masterfully earlier in the day. I was alternately fascinated and disappointed with the manner in which Peggy both took control of this seduction and summoned her silly-girl side. "You're funny," says her suitor after she makes a grab for his burger. Yeah, I guess you could call "funny". "Phony" would be another word.


Back at the Draper home, the situation regarding Gene, Betty and William has become increasingly untenable, and Don, in an tour-de-force of emasculation, reads William a riot act that is reminiscent of Pete Campbell's own Drapered humiliations.


Betty seems both surprised and impressed.


The episode closes with a dreamy Maypole dance scene near the Drapers' home in Ossining - Don seems taken with the young elementary school teacher, but it was hard to tell if he is responding to her sexually (her free-spiritedness reminds me of Don's bohemian ex, Midge) or reacting to what she symbolizes. As Don says in his lunch meeting with one of the MSG men, "Change is neither good nor bad, it simply is. It can be greeted with terror or joy, a tantrum that says I want the way it was or a dance that says, look, something new."


Random notes: Is this a literal sign of things to come? Also: Speaking of rape, did anyone catch Joan's comment that once her husband finishes his medical residency she's better "watch out"?


As for this lady, Lane Pryce's wife, what was with her comment regarding the number of "Africans" and "insects" in her new Sutton Place neighborhood?


And did anyone else note the date on the wedding invitation for Roger Sterling's daughter?

It says something when the industry theoretically geared towards reading and determining the collective psyche is, at the creative level, overwhelmingly male-dominated, particularly at the higher (yes, Don Draper) level. According to a piece on AdAge, this was "a hot issue" at the magazine's annual "Women to Watch luncheon," whose very existence in 2009 is somewhat telling. While women are well-represented at the executive level, they're still lagging in "creative," and fewer women go into that end of things. In a video from the event, Tiffany Kosel, creative director and VP at the Crispin Porter & Bogusky agency, paraphrases one woman's explanation: the issue, she says, is the classic "tightrope" : "be confident, speak up, get respect, while still being feminine enough that we're not seen as overly aggressive."

And she ends with an eerie and perhaps unconscious paraphrase of one of Mad Men's more memorable lines, the savvy Bobbie Barrett's sage advice: "(N)o one will tell you this, but you can't be a man. Don't even try. Be a woman. It's powerful business, when done correctly." While in the context of the show, there's the ever-present implication of sexual power and a set of weapons no more at a woman's disposal than a man's overt power to sexually harass his assistant, it's essentially Kosel's message: women bring something different to the table - in fact, the perspective of more than half the population, which would seem to be a valuable commodity in an industry largely geared towards selling to that percentage.

It's interesting that the discrepancies should exist in creative, rather than executive spheres: it seems like the issue is exactly what that one woman elucidated, that of balance. A woman can be business-minded. She can be soft and creative. But the two are still not reconciled in our culture. Take the heroines of most movies: ethereal free spirits and uptight control freaks pretty much cover the waterfront. Advertising is one of the businesses that's always mixed commerce and creativity most overtly, and from the beginning: and the industry, of course, perpetuates and crafts these continuing perceptions. In a sense it would be peculiar if that industry itself didn't cleave to the same standards. There was a really interesting quote on the estimable Media Commons blog dealing with Mad Men: the show, the authors averred, is essentially "about subjectivities in the making: how men construct identities for women and how women struggle for narrative space in and through those representations." I'd go so far as to apply that construct to most creative industries, a lot of life, and certainly the business of selling image.

Creative Directors And Gender: Why The Male Domination? [AdAge]
Why Women Don't Get Ahead In Advertising [Media Commons]

Related: "You Can't Be A Man. Be A Woman. It's Powerful Business, When Done Correctly."

Because it's impossible to go a single day without contributing to the Mad Men Frenzy, here are some quotes from a new interview with Elisabeth Moss in the new Black Book. There are no big huge revelations, but I like how you can almost hear her speaking in her careful, measured way. As usual, she sounds very smart and very down-to-earth. I just wish they had asked her about her relationship with the Church Of Scientology, because I think a lot of fans are curious about that aspect.

On Peggy Olson and Don Draper not having (yet) done it:

"On any other, lesser show, you would have had that happen on the first season, but with us, it's touched upon in the very first episode-and then completely buried in favor of a far more interesting sort of friendship, more protégée-type relationship."

On AMC being unlike any other network (that I've heard of, at least):

"We know everyone at the network; we're actually friends, and we've seen them and hung out with them and been with them from the beginning, so it feels like it's a much more familial relationship."

On what she wears in real life. It's almost anarchic!:

"I'm a huge proponent of Urban Outfitters-I adore them and adore their website and consider it my personal closet much to the detriment of my checking account. I don't have a lot of time to go shopping honestly, and when I do, I'm not a huge designer girl. I'm very like I like the Gap and J. Crew and Urban Outfitters."

On her movie with Sarah Jessica Parker:

"I've done two films this year. One's Did You Hear About the Morgans?- it's a romantic comedy, I play Sarah Jessica Parker's assistant. It really fun to do that kind of comedy, which I've never really done-very light, snappy, you feel like you're in an old 40s movie. I'm a huge fan of Sarah Jessica Parker's, so that was a dream come true to work with her. "

On working with the Apatow gang on Get Him To The Greek:

"Mad Men is so minimal, and nobody ever really says anything-you have five lines, and it's all very quiet. Then you go to doing 10-minute takes of something that's so comedic where everybody's improv-ing and coming up with ideas ... it was so black and white."

And the part that bugged me!:

Black Book: "Before season two of Mad Men started last year, I was talking to costume designer Janine Bryant; at the time, she described Peggy's look as a "schoolgirl in the office" who is "buttoned up" due to her conservative nature. One of the questions I asked her about each character in turn was what she thought a contemporary version of that character would wear. What she said for Peggy Olson was "Marc Jacobs ... Maybe a little bit of Burberry."

Elisabeth Moss: "Oh, that's very good."

Black Book: "What else would the Peggies of 2009 wear?"

Elisabeth Moss: "I could not possibly improve on that. Maybe a little bit of Calvin Klein mixed in ... just the sort of simplicity and professionalism of it, but that's wonderfully put. In fact, there's a dress that I wore this season that seriously could be Marc Jacobs. You could sell it off of the rack."

Ugh to that part. First off: Peggy Olson is in no way known for her sense of style in the world of the show (remember that totally ridiculous gay guy makeover scene?), and since the show took place before irony, she couldn't have been doing that trying-to-look-frumpy-on-purpose Marc Jacobs thing. It's just a really circular argument. Marc Jacobs is inspired by dowdy ladies from the 60's, not the other way around! But it's not like she could disagree with the show's costume designer. Anyway, I love that Elisabeth Moss, the famous movie star, shops at The Gap and Urban Outfitters and J. Crew, and I actually believe in this case it's not a sneaky celebrity trick to sound relatable.

Don will hear a familiar canine whimper during a smoke break. Is it— could it be— Chauncey?


Betty will stand by her (super) Man.


The Sterling Cooper gang will prepare for their network-synergy dance-off with the cast of Breaking Bad.


These men will be old.


Peggy will be smug.


Betty will become disillusioned with material possessions.


Really disillusioned.


Like, "Who am I, really, inside?" disillusioned.


Joan will wonder why all the good-looking men are either married or rapists.


Sal will wish he could just find the right lady to settle down with.


The guys will prepare for their skill-matched dance-off with the cast of The Big Bang Theory.


And, finally, an actual spoilery-type-thing: Don and Sal will have dinner with stewardesses (for Don) and a pilot (for Sal)!

I tried to be as self-appraising as possible, and it does actually look like me! Except I dress like Juno and I recently quit smoking (but the smoking-lips choice looked so much, you know, cooler.) At the end, the application lets you choose from a variety of settings and unceremoniously plops you into them.


If I ever had the chance to toast with Don Draper, you'd better bet I'd be levitating and staring off into the middle distance.


I call this one "Lonely Picnic."


"Let's just stare at that drunk new girl until she goes away."


"Fuck you and your tea, Birdy. I need the hard stuff."


I call this one "Lonely Bedroom."


Wait a second, I thought I chose the "Joan Holloway" body. Why does she get to be so much thinner? Is that in her contract? No fair.


Here I am giving a presentation about to get an intervention.


Andrew Wyeth's little-known masterpiece, "The Drunk Avatar's World."

[These avatars are based on the brilliant illustrations of the artist Dyna Moe.]

That's what it was like when I saw this Excedrin ad with Mad Men's Elizabeth Moss (aka Peggy Olson). S. Epatha Merkerson's ad for blood pressure medication is definitely a spokesperson kind of thing, but it's hard to tell with this Moss spot. I'm thinking it was probably just an acting gig, because it would be weird to be known for her migraines, but you never know.

The author quotes statistics about the rise of drinking among young women — "more than 48 percent acknowledge having had at least one drink in the past month (up from 42 percent in 1992). But beyond that, the women who drink are drinking more. The number of women who identify as moderate-to-heavy drinkers has risen in the last ten years, while the number of women who say they are light drinkers has declined" — and then uses anecdotal evidence from her peer group to show that upwardly mobile urban women are the ones who are doing all the drinking, out of wanting to do well at work or wanting to express the fact that they cannot be controlled by social mores.

Full disclosure: I am quoted in the article, and this site generally and two editors specifically are mentioned as examples of the fact that "drinking has become entwined with progressive feminism." I don't really think that's true at all, and say in the article that drinking in and of itself is not a feminist act.

Indeed, much of the New York social world revolves around drinking, but it has, well, pretty much forever. Tales of Dorothy Parker getting shitcanned at speakeasies in the 20s are part of writerly lore. Rather than increased hard drinking having much to do with gender, I think it has more to do with career and circumstance. New York describes a woman named Kate, who works in finance, and started drinking with her colleagues after hard days of work so she could be "one of the guys." The anecdote seemed so dated, and reminded all of us of the scene in Mad Men when Peggy goes to the strip club so she can ingratiate herself with the boys.

But wouldn't a male teetotaler feel much of the same pressure to be included if he worked in the same industry? Somehow, I doubt that medical students and residents, male or female, feel any of the same social pressures to booze it up, since their work colleagues are not indulging in the same way. This is New York Magazine, and so they are only talking about New Yorkers, but I also find it difficult to believe that the drinking of urban upper middle class white women is the only reason drinking has gone up for women across the board. The article doesn't even mention the fact that the writer interviews only young, childless, unmarried women: i.e., the kind of women who have the extra time on their hands to hit the bar on a weeknight... and are young enough to be able to work through an alcohol-induced haze more easily. There must be more complex issues (like the marketing of booze that the author mentions) than just a desire for some sort of misguided equality.

Gender Bender [New York]

[New York, November 5. Image via x17]