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We Hate More Than We Like, Where's the 'Hate' Button

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You know Frank—he's been writing about menswear, sales, television, new shops, the recession, Lisa Loeb, the Golden Girls and getting blasted for Racked for over a year. Well, we think it's time you got to know him and his quirky-irreverent views on life and fashion even better with his brand new column: Love, Frank. Taking the form of an open letter and always signed with love, Frank will rant about whatever style-related conundrum he encounters in a given week. So buckle your two-toned leather Moschino belts, folks, it's going to be ? Something.

Dear Internet,

It's come to our attention that those Facebook 'Like' buttons are popping up pretty much everywhere. Obviously, when a person is physically logged-in to Facebook he can tell a friend that he 'Likes' a new profile picture or the fact that someone's mom is visiting or someone else is making homemade soup. And he can do it without typing a word.

But that 'Like' icon—it's flown the Facebook coop. Look down and around—now it's all over blog posts and photo galleries and honest-to-god news articles and every, single e-commerce page. And, when the button isn't there—take a look at the user comments. We can almost guarantee some inter-troll with delusions of clever will have typed 'Like' and hit send.

Let's just say it's starting to grate.

Obviously, if the post is a lookbook you're really feeling or the announcement of a hot new collaboration you're willing to wear Target for—great. But, what's to 'Like' when a post is about the a pilled-out swimwear designer getting allegedly murdered in a posh hotel room? Or an iconic design duo reportedly being investigated for tax evasion? Not a lot—unless you're one of those misery-misers who get off on that sort of thing.

Yet, the button is still there—it's always there.

So, we have a suggestion. If we have to live with 'Like' buttons spangling every aspect of our virtual lives, what about the addition of a 'Hate' button?

Now, we don't necessarily consider ourselves true misery-misers; but we have come to terms with the fact that we probably 'Hate' more things than we 'Like.' Call it what you will (we prefer fastidious or discerning to bull-headed, bleak, or hateful); but, frankly, we tend to have more to say about any one thing we 'Hate' than we do almost all the things we only sorta 'Like' put together.

A 'Hate' button would be succinct, time-saving, the right kind of blunt, and—hopefully—an inane conversation deterrent.

On Facebook: End the discussion before it starts. Status updates about great parties a person went to the night before, while you were cleaning the bathroom? 'Hate.' Pictures of frenemies all dressed up at events you weren't invited to? 'Hate.' Relationship status updates—good or bad? 'Hate.' Pictures of other people's babies or dogs or ATVs or new shoes or boats or Christmas trees or weddings or new decks or vegan cupcakes or family reunions? 'Hate' times ten.

On the internet: Not fond of that writer? 'Hate.' Not fond of that designer? 'Hate.' A promo-code for Kohl's? 'Hate.' Anything having to do with Aéropostale? 'Hate.' No need to prepare an argument when you can just 'Hate.'

And, omigod, in real life? Constantly useful. Think of all the girls in glittery Bebe tees; all the guys with pants tucked into their boots; or the drunk, past-prime frat boys reeking of Axe body spray and Under Armour having chin-up contests on your subway car—just hit your portable 'Hate' button. Out shopping—no need to try to sell me that knit tie, that fleece anything; we've already hit 'Hate.'

In closing, we understand if you wish there was a 'Hate' button right here on this post.


· Love, Frank [RNA]