Being Ironic vs. Being a Joke

I own a Hilary Duff T-Shirt.

Some people ask, "Are you wearing that shirt 'ironically,' or do you actually enjoy her music?" Of course, I'm put in a difficult position there: you've given me two choices, and if I blatantly admit to wearing it 'ironically,' then where's the irony? So I have to admit to enjoying her music, at which point you can either say, "Oh, he's being ironic," and laugh with me, or you can say, "This is a grown man who admits to liking Hilary Duff's music to the point that he wears her T-Shirt in his mid-twenties. What a joke." At that point, you're laughing at me. I know, that's a cliché, but it's important that we recognize the difference.

Here is the story of how I obtained said Hilary Duff T-Shirt:

When I was in 10th grade, my dad opened a restaurant in Las Vegas, which he decided to name after his eldest son "Giorgio." The restaurant was located between the Luxor and Mandalay Bay hotels on the Las Vegas strip, and, because the restaurant was named after me, I was given partial ownership. In Los Angeles, I was just a short, scrawny high school sophomore who still collected comic books, but in Vegas, I had my own restaurant. It's impossible to bring that up and not sound arrogant, so you have to milk the irony: "Oh yes, they decided to make me co-owner of the restaurant at age 15 because I'm just that awesome."

The restaurant ended up being a very big deal for my dad. There was a movement of "celebrity chefs" and "celebrity restaurateurs" that were beginning to dominate the Vegas strip, and by opening a second restaurant there, he had proven he could play in the major leagues. Of course, to anyone who actually knows anything about restaurants, my dad has always been a major league player, but Vegas was a whole different ballpark, the scrutiny of which went beyond food and hospitality. The hotel made trading cards with photos of my dad and gave them to hotel guests. Sometimes parents of my classmates would come to my dad at school events and ask him to autograph a trading card.

...and my dad attained that level of celebrity through this restaurant, which was named after me, and which I was "co-owner" of.

Around this same time, my brother Giampiero met Hilary Duff at a screening of Agent Cody Banks. He claimed that he had dropped trou in front of her and had asked her to sign his boxers. Oh, hell no. My brother was NOT about to move in on Hilary Duff. He could have Lindsay Lohan or one of those Olsen sisters, but Hilary was MINE. Besides, did my brother have a restaurant in Vegas named after him? No, only I did. So I figured, whenever Hilary performed in Vegas, I would work my connections and get backstage passes to her show. I would NOT walk up to her and drop trou (I didn't have game like my brother). Instead, I would invite her to my restaurant, which I owned.

So I got the tickets and the backstage passes, along with a round trip plane ticket from LAX to Vegas. The show was in February, four months away. That meant I would have to wait 1/3 of a year before I got to meet Hilary and make my move.

In the life of a teenager, a lot can change in 4 months. I matured emotionally and became (slightly) more rational, so when the time actually came to see the concert, I had accepted there was no way Hilary Duff was going to go out with me, and at this point, I didn't really care. I was dating Celia Hollander now, the coolest girl in school. Plus, Hilary Duff was kind of played out. Lindsay Lohan was poised to make a big comeback with Mean Girls. It was all about Lindsay now. Oh, and even with all the connections that came from being a 15-year-old Las Vegas restaurateur, it turned out I still couldn't get backstage.

Whatever, though. I would still go to the concert...ironically. And I would buy a T-Shirt and wear it...ironically. And when people would ask me why, I would reply, "I just really like her music. It's just so real to me. The lyrics just speak to me in a way that no other musician can." If you couldn't hear the irony in that, you weren't listening. If you didn't get the joke, that was your problem.

...but in reality, I was the joke, and even though I eventually accepted reality, the fact remained: there was a time in my life when I actually thought I had a chance with Hilary Duff. I thought that my newly acquired Vegas swagger meant I was a star, just the same as she was. I could play it off like I was "being ironic," but kidding aside, when I was 15 years old, I thought that the biggest teenage star of 2003, who had dated the likes of Frankie Muniz and Aaron Carter, might have dinner with me if I just went to her concert, told her who I was, and asked her out. For that, I deserved to be laughed at, not laughed with, and to honor that, I have kept the t-shirt and still wear it today.