Dave Schilling 

American Psycho’s morning ritual: would Patrick Bateman’s routine work today?

The film and novel is a pop graveyard of the 1980s – littered with references to brands, nightclubs and cultural figures that didn’t quite make it out of the decade
  
  

Crazed narcissistic Patrick Bateman sees virtue in his vanity.
Crazed narcissistic Patrick Bateman sees virtue in his vanity. Photograph: YouTube

American Psycho is 25 years old – but like any true classic no one would know. The novel, film and now the musical are far-fetched satires of America during the 1980s: consumerism if off the hook; Wall Street’s excess is infecting the rest of New York City, and Patrick Bateman, the story’s protagonist, is a crazed narcissistic banker, who sees virtue in his vanity.

In other words: almost nothing’s changed. But there’s another way to read American Psycho: as a postcard from the 90s. The novel is a pop graveyard for the ephemera of that time period – littered with references to brands, products, restaurants, nightclubs and cultural figures that didn’t quite make it out of the 80s.

Take the famous washing scene, for example: Ellis takes readers through Bateman’s morning routine, listing the luxury products he uses as markers of status and wealth.

I tie a plastic ice pack around my face and commence with the morning’s stretching exercises. Afterwards I stand in front of a chrome and acrylic Washmobile bathroom sink – with soap dish, cup holder, and railings that serve as towel bars, which I bought at Hastings Tile to use while the marble sinks I ordered from Finland are being sanded – and stare at my reflection with the ice pack still on. I pour some Plax antiplaque formula into a stainless-steel tumbler and swish it around my mouth for thirty seconds.

Reading that scene today, suddenly the story feels dated. Any GQ reader fancying himself a modern man would squirm at the sight of a Vidal Sassoon shampoo bottle. We compiled the other brands Bateman proudly name drops throughout his ritual. Would any Wall-Streeter be able to navigate them today?

Washmobile sink: Bateman washes his face in a Washmobile sink every morning. A quick Google search for “Washmobile” brings up a couple of car washes and a torta stand in Tijuana, Mexico. If I search for “Washmobile sinks”, the first result is a YouTube advert for a mobile sink used by doctors.

Hastings Tile: Hastings Tile & Bath has a functioning website. That’s promising. They have one showroom on East 58th Street in midtown Manhattan. I checked to see if you could buy a Washmobile sink on their website. You can’t.

Plax: You can certainly still buy Plax anti-plaque rinse, but the Patrick Bateman of today would try to find something a tad more organic to clean his mouth, I think. Maybe not Tom’s of Maine, but close. At least, something more expensive than Plax.

Rembrandt: The website for Rembrandt toothpaste looks fake, like one of those placeholder sites for when someone’s domain name expires.

Listerine: Wait, he uses Plax and Listerine?

Probright tooth polisher: A search for Probright brings up an Oral-B electric toothbrush. Is that the same thing?

Interplak tooth polisher: Still exists. Is this guy really going to keep brushing his teeth?

Cepacol: Cepacol’s website offers not only the mouthwash Bateman uses to finish off the waterboarding he’s performed on his teeth, but also throat lozenges. They are “extra strength” and come in cherry, honey lemon, sugar-free cherry, and something called “mixed berry” flavor. I personally don’t approve of berries mixing. Let’s keep our berries separate, but equal.

Vidal Sassoon: Vidal Sassoon, if it ever was a high market brand, is no longer. Today, it’s one of the cheapest shampoos and conditioners you can buy. They sell it everywhere. Oh how the mighty have fallen.

Gruene Natural revitalizing shampoo: No such thing any more, but there is a district in the town on New Braunfels, Texas, called Gruene. New Braunfels is the home of former baseball player Lance Berkman and Ferdinand Lindheimer, who Wikipedia refers to as the “father of Texas Botany”.

Bloomingdales: Still around

Bergdorf’s: Still around

Foltene European revitalizing treatment for thinning hair: Still around. In fact, I just bought a whole case of the stuff … for my dad.

Vivagen hair treatment: Vivagen is an offshoot of the Redken brand, owned by the L’Oréal Group. You can buy Redken products at JC Penny, which Bateman would not be caught dead visiting.

Aramis Nutriplexx: The most I could find on this was a 1987 LA Times article about how hair thinning treatments don’t work.

Ralph Lauren: Yeah, still around. Let’s move on.

Pour Hommes: It means “For Men”! In French! Whatever the brand was, it doesn’t exist, or it just doesn’t have a website. Which is a bad idea in 2016.

Clinique: As a man in his 30s, I can tell you how important it is to moisturize. Especially here in LA. It’s dry, folks. It’s real dry! Lather up, fellas. This is just my advice to you, as a bro.

Baume des Yeux: This is another product from Pour Hommes that doesn’t exist, but it’s an eye balm.

Kent Brushes: Finally, the Kent brush, which Bateman uses to shape his well-considered head of hair. Kent appears to be an English brand and has a very cool, modern-looking site. The lead image on that site is a banner ad for beard brushes, the perfect accessory for the modern American Psycho, roaming the streets of Brooklyn and craving the taste, not of blood, but of artisanal chocolates from Mast Brothers, a quick pint from The Sampler in Bushwick before heading to Terminal 5, or even a bowl of rice pudding from Rice to Riches in Nolita. Sharon recommends the “Category 5” caramel.

American Psycho, now in previews, opens on 21 April at the Schoenfeld Theatre on Broadway.

 

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