The Art of Seduction, the Mad Men Way


So Don Draper’s silver screen days are over with. No more introspective nights by the television, nursing an “Old Fashion”, thinking to yourself: “I was born too late.” Long gone are the epochs where, once in a year for 6 to 12 glorious Sundays, you could slip into a fedora, light up a Lucky and casually let the breeze wash over you. Tunes of sweat harmony, light jazz, cleansing you of the day’s hokum, hooey and horse-feathers. “Away into the night, ye of Bad Blood who constantly wants me to Shake It Off.” The Rat Pack, Nina Simone, Miles Davis, all the greats allowing you to live vicariously through the magic of projection. Nope, sorry, just like Walter White, Don’s a specter of your BluRay collection. Still, the legacy strives on, the man perjures. No matter what Jon Hamm does, for the rest of his existence on terra-firma, he will always be the stable of cool, of debonair, of chill to the umpteenth power.

The man could, with a magnetic gaze, snatch the most frigid of harpies from a block away, without even breaking a sweat. And frankly, that’s his greatest appeal for the Y chromosome bequeath to us.
What was Don’s radioactive super power? What cosmic disturbance took shape or God like blessing had to occur in order for the “IT”, in the man’s swagger to manifest itself and attract supermodels, like flies to golden nectar?
In a very superficial way, the now pop icon was without a doubt a collection of vices. He drank too much; smoked even more; ate things that would have had Elvis Presley crossing himself; considered infidelity to be an intricate cornerstone of any worthwhile marriage; constantly danced around the borders of sexual objectification and misogyny… Yet, for all his ill repute and condemn-able actions, women not only loved him but threw themselves at his feet. So what’s the secret, you ask? There is no one password or alchemist stone, let alone a finite key that will transform you into Don Draper. Nope, sorry, I’m not a miracle worker. It’s more along the line of a set, an anthology, of crucial elements.

1. He’s sophisticated:

There is no deny it, the man was as smooth as silk. Double cuff shirts with embossed cuff-links. Immaculate suites, perfectly tailored to his frame. He knew how to rock a sombrero. No beers for this hombre; he drank aged scotch from crystal decanters. Plus, let’s be honest, driving around in a Cadillac de Ville ’65 sort of gives you an edge. Above all, he was true to the vision he had constructed of himself; he never wavered from that artifice.

2. He’s Mister “Misterioso”:

One can’t help but think that Draper was an antisocial, at the very least highly reserved perhaps even shy; a, dare I say it, wallflower. Gasp. He hardly spoke, and when seducing his latest flame, his tactics revolved around the premise of “a little less talk and a lot more action.” He took the reigns of any relationship, professional or private. Always posturing himself as not only the Alpha-Male but as the man who had all the answers. What tiny sentences he gesticulated, were succinct and brilliant. Just goes to show you, if you can’t say anything worthwhile, then slip into the shadow and practice your brooding facade. One way or another, in the words of Chevy Chase: “We’re all getting laid tonight”, … or I’m I missing the objective?

3. He’s Humble:

Although he’s incredibly wealthy, Don rarely shows it. He’s not Floyd Mayweather ostensibly uploading pics of his cash stitched comforter. He’s not Scrooge McDuck dunking head-first into his pile of gold doubloons. Aside from his penthouse and his convertible, he’s a man with simple tastes. The lesson being: “if you have it, don’t flaunt it.”

4. He’s Strong:

Aside from a mild cold, every-so-often, the guy’s as healthy as an ox. Despite the nasty, noxious and harmful lifestyle that he lives, Don rarely, if ever, shows his weaknesses. He’s the steadfast pillar, the one constant juggernaut. Once more, proving that Darwin was, partly correct in his assumptions.

5. He’s a leader:
He’s the office’s security blanket. He is the gung-ho sort of fella’ that shoots first and only asks questions during reload. He possesses his own atmosphere of tribal chieftain. Whenever there’s a problem to address, a dinner tap to square or a pair of knickers to disrobe, Don’s there at the gate. He is the pioneer, the first one out.

So, there you are. The five reasons why Don could pull any bird with the flick of a finger. What, you don’t have a Cadillac? Your wallet is sort of moth infested? You still live with your mom? Well, here’s the final wizard’s trick:


He wasn’t real, not even in the show. He was a fake, and so he faked it. He came from a poor upbringing, hiding from military desertion, didn’t have even a passing education, nothing. Dick Whitman never even finished high school. Don Draper was Dick’s most proficient product. His crowning achievement. That’s the real lesson, go out there and sell the best version of yourself.

Dress to kill – at the very least own one power suit; don’t go shooting your mouth off. Think every word through. When you hit it big, act cool and natural. Hit the gym every now and then. Lay off the Cheetos, and finally, stop acting like a dullard and procrastinating through life. Take the bull by it’s horns and ride that bronco to your dream.

I think I mixed my metaphors there -screw it.

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