Good God, that was a hell of a year. You got tested for tiger blood. You absconded to Pakistan to take care
of some stuff. But above all else, you were educated in the art of the perfect burger. Here, the most
important stuff of 2011.
This was the year you said, “No more.” Not to whiskey-fueled thrill-seeking, of course, but to the
regrettable mornings after. Instead, you got serious. We’re talking candy serious. And
vitamin-soaked-patch serious. Which might come in handy four days from now...
If you’ve said it once, you’ve said it a thousand times: any scantily clad sunbathing companion of yours
needs to be able to charge your iPhone with her swimwear. This, however, is the first year where that made
any sense to anyone. And it’s all thanks to this bikini. Thanks, bikini.
YOU GOT INTO LEATHER
Boots. Shoes. Wallets. Bags.
There were some stunning developments in the leather world this year. Between these four masters of hide,
you found a bag to pass down (or not) to the grandkids, the platonic ideal of a loafer, elephant-skin
wallets and some boots. You were wise enough to pass on the pants.
All you wanted was an easy way to find the most breathtaking views of the most beautiful places on earth.
Didn’t seem like too much to ask. This site showed you what the view from your Uruguayan coastal casita
would look like before you booked. We enjoyed your postcard.
YOU HAD EDIBLES SENT TO YOUR DOOR
The Wonders of the Mail-Order Universe
Cookies that looked like you. Black Label burgers on your very own grill. The bacon pig. In 2011, the future
was now. And it was all delivered right to your door. (Combining all three into one barbecue was a
stroke of genius, by the way.)
YOU LEISURED, HARD
Jog.fm and Self-Correcting Golf Balls
Between mergers, acquisitions and official business trips to Saint-Tropez, free time was in short supply. So
you made the most of yours with the jogging soundtrack you were born to run to and golf balls that briefly
had you atop the PGA money list. You’ll always have the green jacket.
When the dust settled, and the chaos had ended, and the drinks had been drunk, there was still bacon. And
there always will be. On scones. On brownies. In muffins. You cannot stop bacon. And you’ll never try.