The Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater has promos up all over town, in which a muscle-flexed male dancer is leaping through the universe in purple briefs. I pride myself on rarely coveting items of clothing, but shit, even I have limits. You would have to be certifiably insane to see these purple pants and not desperately want a pair. If I owned these, I would absolutely refuse to wear anything else for the rest of my life, amen. They're that perfect.
Certain subway ads have a way of attracting more graffiti than others, and Mr. Flexy Purple-Pants has seen his fair share, as I've demonstrated below. The first picture is from the Lorimer L-train stop, and is a little more high brow than the other two (high brow in this instance = no penis involved). The second and third pictures are both from my home stop: the inimitable Bedford-Nostrand, where I've seen two men openly masturbating and one taking a shit off the side of the platform. They both involve dicks: dicks are a big part of Bedford-Nostrand graffiti. After all, it was at my fine stop that I witnessed the zenith, apex, pinnacle of all subway art: Shark Man Penis (pictured below, for your reference). I hope you enjoy the collection of defiled Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater promos I've carefully curated.
Shark Man Penis (for your reference only):
Part 1: Lorimer Stop Flexy Purple-Pants:
It's a little hard to read, so here's a blurry close-up:
A speech bubble has been added that originally said "I won't buy ExxonMobil" but was then revised to say "I won't buy Gitgo," only to be revised a third time into a final, definitive message "I won't buy Bilbo." The last declaration is probably the most reasonable of all three: buying hobbits is truly inadvisable. They are fictional.
Part Two: Bedford-Nostrand Flexy Purple-Pants, Bedford Exit:
Again, you may need a closer look to get the scope of this creative addition:
As you can see, the artist has added an extremely large phallus to this ad, and to clarify (or is it to obfuscate?) his/her intentions, has written the word "molecules" and then parenthetically specifies his statement, adding "(sprem)." Everything here is so lovable; the misspelling of sperm as sprem is one of the funniest things I've seen in subway art, especially considering the artist seemed to be trying to help the viewer out: "these molecules I drew here, coming out of this hairy-balled penis? Don't worry, that's just sp[er]m." And yet, despite the obvious charm displayed here (can I quickly note, I am really, truly in no way being facetious about any of this?) it is not quite my favourite, and I think you'll see why with the third installment.
Part Three: Bedford-Nostrand Flexy Purple-Pants, Nostrand Exit:
As has become customary, a close-up:
Now, this one, to me, is a clear winner. It's so simple. It's what I believe to be a penis coming out of Flexy's bum (it could also be a poo, or a small arm). In contrast to the molecule-(sprem)-phallus that appeared to be about to go into the buttocks, this is some disembodied penis that is emerging from Flexy's rump. Exremely original, visually arresting, simple. It is the masterpiece of Flexy Purple-Pants graffiti.