Archive for September, 2006
Monday, September 11th, 2006
I will be skewered by several friends for saying this, but really, fashion week sucks. Everybody gets so crazy and all kinds of weird shit happens. People scramble to get into places, I get asked if I have connections here or there, if I can add people to some list or another, whether or not I’ll be at this show or that party. I can’t stand it. All of these things are supposed to be fun, and none of them ever are because everything about it all is so uptight, scheduled, and regulated. The bigger and more hyped things are, the less I want to go to them. Who wants to deal with crowds and getting people into places? That’s not fun. Can I be a loser rather than an asshole snob if I say that I don’t wait in lines? First of all, I won’t go somewhere unless I am on a list or know a doorman or something. And if I get there and there’s a line for the list people, I usually won’t wait. There’s always something else. There’s always my couch and AMC. There’s always a big ass pizza to be had on some corner with people who will make me happy just by being there, and a glass of beer and a DJ who doesn’t know what he’s doing. I have nothing against big parties if they are loose and fun. To the kids who waited in line for an hour and then paid to get into MisShapes to see Kelis and Leelee Sobieski… it gets better. Ian will tell you that you’ll have more fun drinking Sparks around the corner on someone’s steps. I guess there’s no way for me to say all this without sounding like a big snoot. But oh well.
I miss winter, and coats. I can wear any old crap under a fantastic coat and feel amazing. I can put up my hood and wrap a scarf around my face and nobody can see me.
Friday was Alfie’s art party and Sinead’s birthday!
Saturday I DJed a black and white ball at Beauty Bar for the birthday of dressy Alexis. Lots of fun, and a gift bag full of crazy things. Happy birthday, here’s a private ball for you and a couple hundred of your closest friends, and it will be sponsored by magazines and brands like KY! Awesome.
Thursday was low key and fun, too. The usuals were lovely as usual, and I met an amazing British couple who were in New York for the first time and were thrilled to dance to The Gossip.
Anna posed a little for me with her creepy teddy bear, and I took some pictures of Larry and Sophia and Mariano at Duvet for Spin.
I’m going to let you in on a secret about Bronques. His apartment in Brooklyn is a big cube. There is no furniture and nothing on the walls. In the middle of the floor when you walk in, there is a wig on a stand, and a pair of sunglasses neatly folded beneath. He does not need food, a bed, or a bathroom. Don’t tell him I told you.
Tomorrow at Happy Valley is another party for his book, and I will be there. Early, and themed.
Thursday, September 7th, 2006
Everything should be as solvable as a Peggy Lee song. “Why don’t you stop me when I talk about Shanghai? It’s just a lover’s device.” If I only just had to say “I’m right around the corner in a phone booth and I gotta be with you tonight” to make everything would work out…
I missed The Presets in Brooklyn on Tuesday and Cringe yesterday because I decided last minute before both that I should instead stay home. I still didn’t sleep very well either night, but I was in, relaxing, watching TV, cleaning my room, working on songs, and not stressing myself out with travel and obligations. Tonight and tomorrow and Saturday are full of stuff to do, so I’m glad I got some down time this week. Last night I watched And Then There Were None with Kathy, which is the first really old movie that I really didn’t like at all. It was like Clue, only not very interesting. Early Twilight Zone episodes and Brick (which I loved at the time but didn’t think I would want to see again) are waiting at home.
So. Tonight I’m taking pictures at Stolen Transmission at Annex like always, and I’m stopping by Duvet to take pictures of Larry’s Distortion Disko for Spin. Tomorrow is the BK art party at Alfie’s, and Sinead’s birthday, and Bronques’ projection party at Trash (Rififi), and Stellastarr Michael’s very first Kill Surf City at Lit. Saturday I am DJing a black & white ball at Beauty Bar early (7 to 10, I think), then probably doing MisShapes and maybe Movida if I am dragged again. I don’t particularly dislike Movida. I just dislike one guy who’s an idiot.
Tuesday, September 5th, 2006
A long weekend meant long nights. Ashlee and Jessica Simpson rolled into MisShapes on Saturday with Pete Wentz and pretty much everybody else rolled right on out. I texted Gurj “Simpsons at MisShapes” and she texted back “be there in 10.” I took the opportunity to go to Movida with Ian. When I got back an hour later the whole pop crew was still there in VIP. Ashlee was sitting on Pete’s lap and kissing him, and Jessica was taking pictures of herself with a digital camera. Gurj and I were horrified and delighted by the wealth of ridiculousness that was happening before our very eyes. What about Braxton???
After Motherfucker on Sunday, Anna and I didn’t get home and to bed until eight in the morning, when it was very clearly Monday. The place was crazy because The Cramps were playing, and even the guestlist line was out of control. They told us that we were lucky, that general admission had to wait two hours. Why anybody would wait for two hours and then pay $30 to get into Avalon – ever – is beyond me. Standing for ten minutes near that circus was enough for me. But despite the fact that MF was at my least favorite venue this time, I had a great time with Anna and Hannah and Bronques and the rest of the BK Girls.
So, The Cramps. Wonderful, but they were on for an hour and fifteen minutes, which was about half an hour too long. People went to a party where a band was appearing, not a concert where a party was appearing. Anna and I left the confines of VIP and scuttled through the crowd at one point during their set, and as she strong-armed her way through the masses I noticed that one of the girls she pushed past was Chloe Sevigny. In the middle of the crowd, looking all beautiful and wonky. She looked us up and down and nodded approvingly. Funny, because we looked like this:
(last one by Nikola)
Afterward, the girls and I wandered around and unsuccessfully hailed several cabs:
We finally got one who would allow five people, and who would take us to Brooklyn, so we squeezed in and went straight for the diner. Bronques met up with us again at Kellogg’s and we had food and surreal wait staff interactions until the morning.
On Monday we went with Kathy to her parents’ house, ate good food, and marveled at green things.
There’s a guy who makes me happy, and I didn’t get to see him much this weekend. I will tomorrow and Friday, but I’m getting withdrawal antsy. This is a three day week for me, and I am anxious to get them out of the way so that I can just sleep until I wake up.
Saturday, September 2nd, 2006
VMA night. Kathy posed me and Chelsea in Anna’s apartment, and this is what came of it:
No cameras were allowed into the VMA parties on Thursday (not even Nikola could get in with one!), so even though I had two on me when I was inside, I didn’t try my luck. Especially since one of them looks like a paparazzi camera with a big ass flash on top. But, as expected, VMA parties are really not very fun. And nobody is really having any fun. Larry invited me to his thing at Duvet, hosted by Wyclef and advertising appearances by Panic! at the Disco, Fall Out Boy, Lindsay Lohan, and Eva Longoria, so thanks to him for that! I wish I could say that Panic’s performance at the awards was ridiculous, because I know it really was, but I’ll be damned if I don’t love him even more for it. The top hats, man.
So we ended up at Annex with the Brearley Girls, of which I am deciding right now that Ben is a part,
and that was the most fun stop of the evening.
I was a geek over Eugene Mirman,
fell in love all over again with Gideon Yago,
and ubiquitous James Iha.
Gurj (VMGay slangcoiner) was a demon behind the turntables.
Tokyo Police Club played Stolen Transmission last week, and they were lots of fun, even if I wasn’t a huge fan of their songs.
And this was a happy accident.
PS – Beyonce: quit acting like you’re classier than the rest of us. All of your videos are about your butt and all of your songs are about your vagina.
