Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Tuesday Night Paties: REVISED

So, basically Tuesday 'hotspots' change like... well they change very frequently!

A new column I've started


It's called W2W2, as in; What to Wear to... a particular New York City bar or party.

It was inspiration drawn from friends always asking me what they should wear to a particular place (which is usually absolutely anything in the city), but out of towners are especially squeamish.

This particular installment is for the Six Six Sick party on Tuesday nights at Happy Ending in the LES.

Things I love Well

A stream of inspiration




























Monday, June 29, 2009

old school party crashing tips

who is the IS? I dont know, but I'd like to. Here's her very first post.

Thursday, April 28th, 2005

How to Crash a Party:

1. Know where you’re going, and dress the part. Don’t wear jeans to a Bergdorf thing. Don’t wear a dress to Hiro. If you’re pretty, overdress to get noticed. If you’re not, underdress to look wealthier. Always carry a small status bag. Always carry a small flask.

2. Learn the names of the hosts; drop them at the door. Sometimes just saying, “Fabian told me to stop by” or “Aimee told me to come - go grab her if there’s a problem” is more than enough, especially if you say it very calmly, as if of course you’ll get in.

3. Pretend you’re Press. Bring an official looking camera (ie: not a dinky digital one) and say you work somewhere with great party pics - BlackBook, Vice, New York, Nylon - apologize if you sent them an email too late. You can also pretend to be with Patrick McMullan or Last Night’s Party, but that’s not as fun as pretending you’re a Nylon photographer, and you probably won’t get laid if anyone hears you.

4. Or pretend you’re The Help. Go through the back door, say you’re late for coat check, say you’re doing George’s makeup, say you’re dropping off a little bag for Lindsay. This is also useful for sneaking backstage, especially at small rock clubs, or clubs like Marquee when they pretend to be small rock clubs and hide Kelly Osbourne backstage so she can drink wine without anyone seeing her. Perhaps this is too much information.

5. If all else fails, throw a fit. This doesn’t always work, but it’s really fun and a good way to get noticed. It’s best to do drunk, hence the flask part of Rule #1. And it actually works - I remember last month, at the Bloc Party thing at Pianos, this random publicist marched up to the door, said, “What do you mean I’m not on the list? Don’t you know who I am? Tell Carlos I’m here, for fuck’s sake!” They let her right in. Meanwhile, The Killers couldn’t make it past the coked out bouncer.

6. Make friends. I was somehow seated at the Roger Vivier dinner because I started talking to Jane Lauder at Saks and wouldn’t stop. She still has no idea who I am, but the poor publicists at Emilia Fanjul think I’m like her BFF. And the steak was lovely, though I would have chosen a bolder wine.

7. Be me. I’m the imaginary socialite, and I was born to crash. In fact, I hear an expired bottle of Valium calling my name right now…

air kisses!

love The I.S.

Thursday, June 25, 2009

in vesting


cant wait to go home next weekend to find my old awesome vest and wear it into fall...

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

If You Like Giving Blow Jobs, Perhaps You'll Like This Seven Incher




When I think of Burger King, memories of my childhood come rushing back. Every Sunday afternoon we would have a lunch date with Dad, my sister and I climbing into the car as Mom waved good-bye and made Dad promise to take us somewhere healthy. Dad would agree, winking at us as we pulled into the fast-food utopia, and all the Club Kids, plastic wrapped crap toys, and condiments a kid could want. What a wholesome, Whopper of a good time! Now when I think of Burger King, blow jobs have replaced this innocent memory, thanks to this ad running in Singapore, hailing the arrival of the new BK Super Seven Incher. I don't know why the minds behind the meat thought that burgers were best as phallic symbols, this advertisement shouldn't only confirm masculinity and all things manly- women like meat too! Even though this ad is obviously directed at men, I am quite certain that there are many women out there that could not only down the full seven inches, but would be happy to do so! And before I continue on with this ridiculous innuendo, here are a few more risque ads that make me feel bad about my childhood.






Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Fourgy on Houston and Lafayette




Read about Calvin's orgy billboard...

Wednesday, May 20, 2009

Artseen


Not too much of a SCENE but Art was Seen... Get it??

Those art worlders in-the-know, whomever they may be, have been touting a new frontier. These economic times have paved the way for regenerating new interest, and new artists ... the big-time artists’ chips are down, and the once-stuffy galas and galleries are forgoing their usual $900 plates and frivolous to-do’s in favor of cocktails and casual bids. The end result is at once despairing and opportunistic; as new players enter, many important and recognized artists are rendered anonymous by a fledgling crowd. Take last night’s ARTSEEN, an auction held at the Friedrich Petzel Gallery to benefit NYFA, featuring “affordable art” at bidding prices starting under $400, posh sips by Bubble Lounge and a mix of predominantly young bidders, many of whom were unable to identify iconic artist Andres Serrano even though they were really stoked about the Real Housewives of New York City, namely Alex McCord and Simon Van Kempen.

Read more!!

PS, my outfit looked MUCH better before I saw it in photos...



xxHG

It's been too long

So let's get caught up with the late night happenings..

Starting with last night's Supper Club Event!

Charmed. That was the overall feeling that lingered after exiting Tamsin Lonsdale’s Supper Club opening party for the Hudson Sky Terrace last night. To be frank, I was not expecting it to pan out this way. Upon arriving (on time, which apparently is not the thing to do at Supper Club events), I was greeted by ethereal servers dressed in cultish white with freakish Eyes Wide Shut smiles—unnerving for a girl who had never been to a Supper Club event, who was brazenly going solo, and who had arrived to a near-empty terrace on the 15th floor of the Hudson Hotel.

Read More...

xxHG

Tuesday, November 25, 2008

The Interventionist- Nicole Fiscella


It’s the time of year in which you-know-who is making his list and checking it twice. Despite playing Isabel, the conniving and calamitous sidekick to the naughty Blair Waldorf on CW’s Gossip Girl, Nicole Fiscella is quite nice. It's part two in our 'Interventionist' series.

She walks into the Eldridge, a portrait of composure in real time. Her hair is loose and natural, complementing her classic oxford shirt and jeans, you would be shocked to find Fiscella was at one time a raver-girl. Although she plays a minion of the devilish Gossip Girl Queen B and co. Nicole is no follower--until it comes to fashion; usually discounting her own sense of style for the safety of a seasoned stylist. “If someone else thinks its ok, I’ll take it,” she says as we paint her eyes a pale shade of turquoise. Despite her penchant for ‘skinny bitches’ and sexy lingerie, Nicole is naturally quite tame, a classic beauty who cozies up to conventional basics, and clean lines. It was only fitting then, that we brought out her diva side with a sleek silhouette and bold baubles. As she postures on the Eldridge’s sleek banquette, Nicole is clearly no prep-school side kick terrorist, in this backless black Catherine Malandrino dress and knowing gaze, her star quality is blindingly bright.

Sunday, November 2, 2008

reality bites




i want people to stop plugging in only to recharge. i want reality.

Thursday, October 30, 2008

It's been a long time/the full circle year

i shouldnt have left you without a dope beat to step to. sorry, my friend Nicholas just threw an Aaliyah party the other night and Timbaland was an important part of it.

really though, it's been a while since i've been able to blog without caring. quote rap songs and be my weird self. sort of stripped away reckless abandon where i'm not worried about people actually reading my words. isnt that why i'm here? why i've decided to broadcast verbiage to whomever stumbles upon my weblog. i obviously want to share some parts of myself with the public for cathartic reasons, and yes, a feeling of connectedness. exhibitionism , perhaps? things just get weird when you realize you work for a company made of words (which i think is a lovely image so let me dewll on that for a moment) and then your voice becomes a character's voice- a narrative construct- for a prominent magazine (re: company made of words). as i've learned, the push and pull of the battle between one's public and personal life is a weighty one.

blogging can be funny because it's public journaling. And who could possibly be interested in another person's journal? My obsession with Anais Nin's and my sister's old obsession with mine should answer that. There's something alarmingly satisfying about reading about someone else's life. I wrote an essay on the whole psychology behind blogging your life, but participating in it is much bigger. it's settling to read about another person's struggles. entertaining to know that someone else in the world thinks that funny youtube animal videos and old people style are so good they deserve a post. but i dont do that any more. and i should. because as much as work/grammar/being taken seriously is a part of me, all of these little random forms of wonderment are too. libations. school supplies. blank journals. my black and white cartoon collection. the real parts of me that shouldnt thrive behind a curtain.



on that note, i'm inspired to share something that i've been thinking about a lot today. this day last year i was in a hospital, and i nearly died. i was septic and delirious and i wrote a short hand will and everything. weird i know, and maybe a little bit heavy. i can hardly believe how much life has changed since then. i cant believe how much more i appreciate the simple things in life, and how ridiculous i feel when i let little, trivial things get to me. everyone has something inside themselves to share with the world, and i am so lucky i still get to share.

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

Apocalypse Wow: The Presets Stun Brooklyn & the Bowery

David Foote, Artist (in) Res-i-dence