The best thing about New York is that it’s incredibly absorptive, meaning its residents can easily ignore nearly every large-scale festival or happening that would bring a lesser city to its knees. Fashion Week, which spans approximately eight months out of each year, is one such event. You wouldn’t know about TaskRabbit’s limited “Instagram Husband” offer if I weren’t sharing it with you now, but it is my mandate to ruin your life.
An “Instagram Husband” is an underemployed factotum willing to lease his soul so that Fashion Week drones have someone fetching to perform low-responsibility jobs, like dropping off dry cleaning and picking up flowers. By far the saddest Task advertised by the website is “Photography,” in which a selfie-stick is replaced by a flesh-and-blood beating heart.
There is absolutely nothing wrong with making an honest living, and if some tragic PR company has hired you to snap iPhone photos at their hashtag brand vodka party, all the more power to you. In 2015, New York City reached its lowest unemployment rate since 2007, thanks to the creation of bilious minimum wage jobs like this.
Taskers can step in as your Instagram Husband (or Wifey) and take care of all your behind-the-scenes tasks during New York Fashion Week – from snapping your #ootd and lightly editing photos before you post, to carrying your gift bags and handling your sample returns. Note: Instagram Husbands and Wives are a coveted commodity and are available while supplies last!
(“#ootd” refers to “our ominous total destruction,” in case you were wondering.)
The female corollary of the “Instagram Husband” is the “Instagram Wifey,” confusing terminology considering the copy must surely have passed muster with at least one woman. (Or maybe not.) I would rather scrape moss from crone’s bunion than have any man, woman or child refer to me as a “wifey,” particularly when that heinous term is preceded by “Instagram.”
Anyway, here’s a proposal: TaskRabbit typically skims 30 percent off of wages earned for a “service fee.” There should, however, be a tax levied for demeaning titles, particularly considering the additional profits they’re sure to rake in thanks to a glut of undeserved press. Cut it to 10 percent, and leave the additional funds to the Taskers, who deserve recompense for being forced to endure the indignity of your stupid ad campaign. You’ll sleep better!