What Your Cigarettes Say About You

After your inevitable move to New York City to further your career of standing outside of buildings to get street styled and then tweet about it, you’ll realize three things:

1. Yes, all these people are assholes.

2. Only stand outside of buildings on cobblestone streets when it’s slightly overcast because that’s the best natural light and cobblestones are just straight up fucking classy.

3. You WILL start smoking.

Every person I know that has moved to New York City to work in fashion has started smoking within approximately 32 minutes. Do you already smoke? HOORAY! YOU’RE ALREADY HALF WAY TO YOUR DREAM JOB! AND EMPHYSEMA! So, what am I here for? I’m here to let you know what your cigarettes of choice say to the rest of the world. Hold on to your black lung, kids, because shit's about to get really real.

Marlboro Red

You are a cowboy. Or from a state that assholes in New York refer to as “the rest of the country," which means anywhere, but NYC and maybe Los Angeles. Marlboro Reds are fucking harsh, man. They don’t call them cowboy killers for nothing. Interesting sidenote: I met a girl during orientation week at college that smoked Reds. We sat outside Regenstein Hall on concrete steps and she casually lit up. I was like, “Whoa, cowboy killers?” And she responded with, “My dad’s a cowboy. In fact, my whole family are cattle ranchers.” My response? "Cool, my whole family aren’t cowboys.” To this day she holds my V-card. So, if you meet a girl who smokes Marlboro Reds she’ll probably take your virginity. Not a virgin? BE CAREFUL. SHE’LL PROBABLY STEAL YOUR HEART.

Marlboro Light

You’re too much of a pussy to smoke Marlboro Reds.

Camel Light

Awww, you just started smoking and you need to prove all the anti-tobacco activists right. I mean, Camel's original advertising was targeted at hooking kids before they could even legally buy cigarettes. What kind of smokes do I want, Mr. Bodega Owner Sir? UHHHH…JOE CAMEL PLEASE! I’VE SEEN THAT SHIT BEFORE IN MY DAD’S OLD PLAYBOYS! IT'S CRAZY BECAUSE HE'S WEARING SUNGLASSES AND A LEATHER JACKET, BUT HE'S, LIKE, A CAMEL! CAMELS AREN'T PEOPLE LOL. So, you get Camel Lights. If you were really cool you’d get Camel Wides.

You Roll Your Own

You shutter through life in various stages of unemployment. You play the banjo and enjoy shit like "folk music". You have no fear of everyone initially thinking you're the man because you’re smoking a joint brazenly in public, only to then realize you are a total fucking dick with way too much time on his hands. You are annoying because when I ask to bum a cigarette I have to then politely decline because I realized you just drooled all over that thing more than you did your 8th grade girlfriend.

Gauloises

YOU ARE A FANCY FRENCH FUCK. Or French Canadian. Or you’re an asshole who spent a semester abroad in Paris 3 years ago and all you talk about is how “Parisian women are just…they’re different, you know?” And when you go out to eat you’re always like, “Americans are soooo afraid of butter and cream. It’s what makes French food so amazing. And how many fat French people do you see?” You talk about Absinthe a lot too, which kills everyone's vibe. Uh, we get it, bro. We've seen EuroTrip too.

Lucky Strike

Americana is still alive no matter what the blogs say. You smoke these with your Vietnam-era Zippo without the slightest hint of irony. You have never met any of your "friends" in person.

Paliament

You are a white girl that was born and raised somewhere that's now the focus of an exploitative reality show.

Virginia Slims

You’re somebody's aunt and you may or may not have "accidentally" smoked meth once.

Marijuana Cigarettes *Dad Voice*

You are more enlightened than anyone gives you credit for. You realize that if you’re going to smoke something directly before and immediately after eating, it should be a substance that makes you more hungry and then more sleepy.

Dunhill

Dunhill cigarettes come in boxes, so whenever you smoke it’s like you’re opening a tiny, foiled carcinogenic present. Street style photogs will flip their collective shit when they see you all disaffected, legs crossed, sitting on a wooden bench, sucking down one of these pretentious cancer sticks. Calmly place the box next to your expensive coffee with the Pokemon ass looking foam that some surly barista made for you and snap that shit directly to Instagram.

Seven Stars

Japanese jawnery extends to the tobacco game, homie. If you get your smokes through a proxy, you are a very rare and expensive individual who is not technically better than everyone else, but you kinda are. You never miss an opportunity to quip, “Oh, they’re Japanese. You can’t buy them here in the States.” You masturbate an unhealthy amount.

Black & Mild

You exist where the Venn diagram of "Classy" and "Definitely Not Classy" overlap. You have been known to creep people out at parties.

American Spirit

Organic tobacco? WHAT THE FUCK IS THE POINT? You are probably in college or you just graduated and have a better job than me. EVERYONE RESENTS YOUR ENTIRE EXISTENCE.

Kool

You do not exist because nobody actually smokes Kools.

Newport

You are a perfect individual—a "menthol king," if you will. The logo is kinda like the Nike swoosh, but not. Your white friends always bitch like, “Ewww menthols stink, man,” but fuck ‘em because they're probably racist.