A Guide to Never Growing Up (Only for Men)

Why Are Men’s Hobbies Economic Systems?

This is a quick little ramble I wrote on a cold February morning while lying down on the most uncomfortable sofa bed to have ever existed in our East Village sublet.

Last night, I was watching MADOFF: The Monster of Wall Street with my husband and thought to myself, "Investment banking is a cult." I’d also watched a couple of episodes of HBO’s hit show Industry and constantly found myself thinking, “What the fuck are they talking about?” “Half a yard, done, four cents…” I’m not going to use an emoji in my article to uphold some journalistic integrity, but just know—my left eyebrow is hiked up high in response to that jargon.

Derivatives, arbitrage, liquidity risks, alpha generation! Aren’t boys the cutest? Making up words and playing pretend with money.

I think men’s reluctance to grow up is kind of genius—because they managed to build entire industries around their pastimes, all while preserving the original desire: to stay playing.

When children play pretend, it’s serious to them, they get into the role. Men carry this attitude well into adulthood, even when confronted with reality. Like Madoff… baby, what the hell did you do? Baseball cards become derivatives and hedge funds, but the structure remains: convince enough people something is valuable, and suddenly—it is.

Investment banking? A video game where they collect and trade imaginary assets.
It’s a boys’ clubhouse with secret words and made-up rules.
Cars? Expensive Hot Wheels collections.
Sports? It’s recess forever, only now they get to bet on it and call it “strategy.” Don’t even get me started on fantasy football…
Poker? High-stakes Go Fish.
Crypto? A virtual playground where men invented fake money and convinced other men it’s real.

A bunch of guys caused a worldwide economic crisis in 2008 by making up value and trading fake things but they did it in suits and drank super old whiskey—so it’s serious business, you know? Is investment banking really a career, or is it role-playing? Make-number-go-high-now!

If it goes wrong? It’s an economic downturn, not a scam, silly goose!
They didn’t mean it. An unfortunate financial misstep. Write a book about it so other men know how not to get caught next time, and all is forgiven. Memoir that shit.

It’s interesting how most men think of themselves as too smart for groupthink or cult-like devotion. All the while, from another room, I can hear the voice of Stephen A. Smith coming from my husband’s computer, passionately screaming about the Anthony Davis and Luka Dončić trade.

I put on a little makeup at 31 and my dad says to me, “Aren’t you a little old for that?” You’re right, Dad. It’s time I put down my pretend makeup brushes and pay the piper.

I get so much shit for being into astrology, recognizing patterns, making predictions…
Can’t I just Texas hold ’em with the stars?! I’m just tryin’ to get like you, my boy!

I think I should be able to pretend that my ex is texting me because Venus is retrograde—if you can pretend “market sentiment” is the reason your fake money disappeared.

If we’re all playing pretend…