Some twentysomethings aren’t sweating the recession, reports The Phoenix from a Boston club. Those with no children and no mortgage — and with supportive parents — see unemployment as a long vacation.
Nestled in a corner banquette are Senam, 25, and his friend Khushbu, 24. Senam’s dressed in cashmere and khakis, not a pore in sight. Khushbu’s all in black, fondling a BlackBerry. He’s in architecture, she’s a lawyer. Both sip white wine and seem happy to confide in a fleece-clad interloper.
“I was laid off last week,” says Senam, stretching like a happy feline. He grins and drinks. “Looks like it’s time for a vacation to Puerto Rico!” He smiles even more broadly now, revealing a perfect set of exceptionally white teeth. Khushbu giggles, smoothes her long black hair. “I lost my job a month ago,” she says calmly. “Here’s to the economy!” They clink glasses.
. . . Cara, a 25 year old with a background in international relations and journalism — who is also currently unemployed — is equally unfazed. “The economy better pick up soon!” she says, laughing. “But if it doesn’t, well, I’ll just have to try [looking for work] longer.” She shrugs and goes back to her drink. “I think the economy is just making people spend smarter,” adds Beth, who works in the restaurant industry. “Maybe I won’t go out to eat at a mediocre restaurant or spend a lot of money just going out for a beer. If I spend money, I want it to be amazing.”
In New York City’s Williamsburg neighborhood, parents are telling their heavily subsidized children that the money is running out, reports the New York Times.
Luis Illades, an owner of the Urban Rustic Market and Cafe on North 12th Street, said he had seen a steady number of applicants, in their late 20s, who had never held paid jobs: They were interns at a modeling agency, for example, or worked at a college radio station. In some cases, applicants have stormed out of the market after hearing the job requirements.
“They say, ‘You want me to work eight hours?’ ” Mr. Illades said. “There is a bubble bursting.”
Famed for its concentration of heavily subsidized 20-something residents — also nicknamed trust-funders or trustafarians — Williamsburg is showing signs of trouble. Parents whose money helped fuel one of the city’s most radical gentrifications in recent years have stopped buying their children new luxury condos, subsidizing rents and providing cash to spend at Bedford Avenue’s boutiques and coffee houses.
Then there’s the LA Times story on the “funemployed.”