05/21/08 12:00am
05/21/2008 12:00 AM |

I seriously need to take a break from watching, between The CW11 and TBS, one-and-half hours of Sex and the City reruns every night, so my sister Ashley (of Darren Star’s short-lived Kitchen Confidential) and I are heading to the Sex and the City premiere party.

Just before midnight, as we arrive at The Plumm from the east (knowing that the red carpet and velvet ropes open to the west), I send a text message to R. Couri Hay Creative Public Relations’ Marie Assante. A Big night, glitterati, literati, hipster litter and chick lit mothers with their own litters are on line; in front of the club, fashion blogger/photographer Scott Schuman is shooting Fashion Inc.’s Lauren Goldstein Crowe. Although it is a school night and early still, Consuelo Ruybal and Oraia Reid’s RightRides is at the ready.

From inside the club, Marie comes out into the box to meet us. She is standing with doormen King (no relation to Michael Patrick King), who would not remember me and Onorato Wixom’s Thomas Onorato — dealing with someone who obviously did not read Glen Belverio’s Confessions from the Velvet Ropes — who, otherwise, would.

Dodging the usual front-of-house street theatre performance:

Me: I am The L Magazine‘s Nightlife Editor.
Doorperson: Elle magazine has a Nightlife Editor?
Me: Not the fashion magazine, the bi-weekly publication.
Doorperson: Elle is bi-weekly?
Me: Yes, the one which is the letter L is bi-weekly.
Doorperson: The L Word? That is a weekly show.

We enter the club just before now-outed Cynthia Nixon gets out of a limo and approaches the Chris Noth co-owned club, as Elle Decor‘s Elizabeth Stamp gets stamped. On the club’s ground level, models/DJs Sky Nellor and Shandi Sullivan who are trading fours all night, are deafening a million PR reps to whom I owe emails, promise to thank in print. Playgirl Editor-in-Chief Nicole Caldwell speaks with Playboy’s Editorial Director Chris Napolitano while I, of The L, with William Norwich’s "Hello-Bent" piece from the current Vogue in mind, but with kisses all around, approach a table of current- and former-Elle staffers: Lindsay Anmuth, Jen
Gerson, Anne Slowey, Joe Zee and Robbie Myers–who is talking to’s Laurel Touby, like a revisitation of their summer 2006 interview on Amy Palmer’s New York 360. The front door is a revolving door of it’s own, all of the gossip columnists coming through could create their own mythological Medea Bistro.

Their table is separated from other publishing houses–like tables in high school, the Condé Nast cafeteria. Axl Rose and Tommy Hilfiger are seated on opposite sides of the room; Teen Vogue‘s Andrew Bevan, Evonne Gambrell, Aya T Kanai, Jane Keltner, Maura Lynch, E.J. Samson and Lindsay Talbot are seated together. In front of the DJ booth, I see both The L and Lucky‘s own Laurel Pinson with co-workers Cat Marnell, Kathryn Irby and Blake English, and former L-staffer Kathira Romero. We three all have histories with Atrium Staffing, and the Atrium ladies are out in full force.

Former-L intern Julia Standefer and her sister Lily, both models and brilliant women otherwise, are watching Mario Cantone Vogue, while I look to see if Candace Bushnell can dance. Kristin Davis has not yet shown, Sarah Jessica Parker’s Manolo Blahnik’d feet are planted — avoiding a 600 degrees fire of Kevin Bacon plate of Footloose jokes, and Kim Cattrell looks less 1998 SatC and more 1987 Mannequin: fabulous. My fantasy accessories/fashion PR company client roster is seated together: the Beckermans, Pretty Black’s Lucy Carr-Ellison, BLEIGHM’s Miranda Laughlin, Lulu Frost’s Lisa Salzer, AbiGrl’s Abigail Seligsohn, Alex Silva and Safe’s Rebecca Turbow.

‘s Nick Haramis is wearing red suspenders, Prada’s Michael Aguilar is in Prada. Hattie Gruber (in $795 Christian Louboutin shoes) and Lauren Painter (from Barneys) sit with Matthew Hampton (from Macy’s) and Time Inc.’s James Brooks; Rebecca Steuer and’s Ashley Granata visit them and the booth looks like Marc-Alan Gray’s currently-homeless Changez Le Beat. Later, I see’s Tyler Thoreson and Ashley talking about the Norman Invasion of 1066 and Parisian fashion coverage coming out of 1166 Sixth Avenue, the CondéNet building.

Esther, the most attractive cocktail waitress I have ever seen (back from teaching in Korea for a night), passes by me with a bottle of Grey Goose in a bucket of ice as Asia Baker, Valerie Boster, Catherine Piercy, Sally Singer (all Vogue staffers) and Candice Bergen (who just plays one on TV) enter. A masthead’s worth of editors, their work Jackson Pollock-style, Valentino-red paint drips on the pages of fashion magazines, are toasting champagne on the dance floor and eating Jack Berger-themed cheddar jack burgers from caterer dana & david’s trays. Carissa Rosenberg, Seventeen‘s Entertainment Director, is laughing with Jill Demling, Vogue‘s Entertainment Editor, and both look sincerely happy together, although neither look particularly entertained by the hordes of people pushing them into the foliage of dance floor’s potted plants. Meg Gruppo, Lisa Iadanza and Marianne Hart (with Condé Nast HR until recently, now with Polo Ralph Lauren) are having a Human Resources heart to heart; For Full Frontal Fashion, Patrick McMullan is interviewing tonight’s host George Wayne, and Billy Farrell of PMC shoots Patrick McDonald, Kenny Kenny, Susanne Bartsch and Amanda Lepore–who is looking at either David LaChappelle and a girl from Myspace or Richie Rich, Traver Rains and Patricia Field. I overhear Richie repeating the rumor going around that fashionista grindcore group The Feminist Movement is playing tonight. I disabuse him of this, but tell him to get in contact with me about
them playing during Fashion Week.

Rich Aybar, Kim Stolz and Nadine Johnson schmooze, applaud Jonathan and Melissa — my favorite dance party couple (they also exist in real life)–who are dressed (costumes, wigs and fat suit) like ‘Paradise By the Dashboard Light’-era Meatloaf (with Ellen Foley) — only Julia Dasher of Harper’s Bazaar and, later, Jessica Matlin and Lindsey Palmer have the courage to approach them, I wonder if they know that four of the five of them work in the same castle.

I pass by my sister who shouts, incredulously and sympathetically, that she saw freelance make-up artist Claudia Lake cornered into giving free make-up tips in the restroom. I see Sally Singer from across the room, but cannot catch up with her to pitch my Street (Gang) Fashion feature.

With so many proper nouns and models to mention, the party is starting to look like the Nell’s chapters in Bret Easton Ellis’ American Psycho: May Andersen, Gina Marie Busch, Deborah Cohen, Melissa D and Agyness Deyn are trying to get drinks, crowding toward the bar behind NYLON‘s Online Editor Faran Krentcil, and Tangie Silva and Ashley Baker (, et al.), while Details‘ Katie Hintz and Matthew Marden repeat for the bartender the specifics of their drink orders.

Down by coat check, I run into Condé Nast Traveler‘s Tracy Shone, W‘s Carolyn Angel and Vanity Fair‘s Ian Bascetta, all of whom I met checking coats and taking names in the Don Hill’s cloakroom. They tease me over my "today the cloakroom, tomorrow the Vogue fashion closet" metaphorical back piece.

In the back booth, co-owners Noel Ashman and Damon Dash play up the closeness of names between Carrie Bradshaw and Aiden Shaw, and Essan Laurent, smelling of Estee Lauder, poses–long red hair an arabesque
of Sarah Jessica’s length, Cynthia’s color, Kristin’s texture and Kim’s body.

[Cut to my computer screen]

With all of the drama surrounding it, will the romantic comedy of the summer be a tragedy?

05/07/08 12:00am
05/07/2008 12:00 AM |

Now that the "quiet, please" work week is over, The Desk Set–socialite librarians who most certainly fall into the PLA (Public Library Association)–invite you, little black book in hand, to shake your buns in your Amicus curiae briefs. Hold onto and get some blood-circulating PLAy from a stacked, hardbacked hardbody on the dance floor as spot in the library of your ALA-accredited university’s stacks where the 98.1 Dewey Decimal-looking latex condom percentage rate of success is tested. From stacks of mass market-edition vinyl, DJ Jonathan Toubin (New York Night Train) spins reserve express copies of  60s soul, garage, boogaloo, psych, international pop and more subgenres than there are library divisions.

A benefit for Books Through Bars (party location double entendre?), donate a new or gently used paperback dictionary (or thesaurus) and, while music bumps through 808s and you spit fiction to hotties at the bar, get a free drink. Otherwise, leave your ac’credit’ed university cards behind the bar–all of the fake IDs held there creating another kind of card catalog–with libation librarians who are looking to get you exponentially drunker and drunker by pouring Dewey Decimal-themed cocktails.

Come for the homemade cakes and free swag (buttons, totes), stay for the Bibliophile’s Raffle–with money raised going toward Books Through Bars and fabulous prizes donated by Brooklyn Vanguard, Continuum Publishing, Diamond Comic Distributors, Greenwich Village Literary Pub Crawl, Magic Hat Brewery, McSweeney’s, MoMA, The Morgan Library, New York Society Library, Kara Jesella and Marissa Meltzer, Ky Anderson and Tokion. At press time, there was no word of a Dead Poets Society-styled Desk
Set tossing.

Dance Dance Library Revolution, May 16
560 Manhattan Ave, at Driggs Ave, Bklyn (L to Bedford Ave, G to Nassau Ave)

05/07/08 12:00am

, why are you dancing when you could be alone… and reading with one hand. Crowning Niko the new king of porn, the foremost Feminist lifestyle publication for women and men looking foreskin makes (Editor-in-Chief) Nicole Cald-well on its Man of the Year Issue-promise. DJ Solid Goldberger spins goldmember hits on 7-inch vinyl while Playgirl models and Real Men join in for Tabloid-worthy, free-lube-and-$2-PBR-fueled festivities (both italicizations are monthly features.)

To the westside’s HK Lounge for a blue photo party, head out as the sun goes down below the Blue Horizon for a blow-out night of Media overload: with giveaways from party sponsors Sextoy, Pink, Doc Johnson, Chocoholics and and Playgirl‘s infamous goodie bags. As for next year? The winner is still ‘only a question mark on a [yearly] calendar.’

Playgirl’s Man of the Year Issue-Release Party, May 8
HK Lounge, 7 to 10pm
rsvp to

04/16/08 12:00am
04/16/2008 12:00 AM |

Four years since their first prom party, the LGBT Community Center is inviting freshmen (both new to the Community Center and either newly- or just-for-the-party-male) to celebrate their gender-bender ball-as-Senior Prom, where transgender and gender non-conformists, their partners, friends and allies — hirsute legs of men shorn and shown off in pink dresses and tuxedoed, mustachioed women dancing as the Psychedelic Furs play — are treated to music, entertainment and refreshments. Celebrate a quarter-century of the Center, founded in the year Thriller was released, by partying like it’s 1983 to Reagan-era pop, while, I anticipate, both last and this year’s Prom queen-and-queen/drag king-and-king twirl around on the dance floor.                      

Fourth Annual Trans-Prom: MAY 2, 8pm to midnight, FREE
Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgender Community Center
208 W 13th St, between Greenwich and Seventh Aves

04/16/08 12:00am

This ‘Drive-In Saturday’ night party from Twig the Wonderkid and the Astronettes, with special guest host Georgie Seville, has your friends saying “it’s good,” and “it’s just like rock ‘n’ roll”; all the “Jung the foreman prayed at work…” dudes will jump through hoop’les to catch the eyes of Burning Angel go-go team Apathy Angel and Jessie Lee, while dancing-out personality crises between New York dolls and Jersey-transplants transformed into bleached-blond Debbie Harrys who have come over — the April showers bringing Brian May-followers — to hear electro-punx Lismore (11pm), see late-night cabaret from Stormy Leather (2am) and dance to DJs on the ones and twos, Michael T, Theo and Punk Ass Jason spin Suzi Quatro in 4/4 as a crash course [in glam rock] for the ravers and stooges of contemporary pop culture.                     

Glamdammit: 21st Century Boy, April 19
Don Hill’s  511 Greenwich St, at Spring St, 11pm, $10; $5 in advance

03/26/08 12:00am
03/26/2008 12:00 AM |

Cherelynore and Queens Marie present a post-modern, post-queer, pre-op female-to-female party featuring DJ Stacy, and honoring both the ladies of the boroughs and Jersey-to-Manhattan travelers who say je t’aime to big hair, long nails and short skirts.

At both midnight and 1am, World Famous *BOB* hosts FTF shows starring Bridget Everett, Raven Snook, Darlinda Just Darlinda and Queens Marie; the go-go stage plays host to The Victorians: Sequinette, Blu Mystique, Ana Vision, Alexia Tate and Lady Coco Lareau.

Exploring queer Feminism like a Larry Kramer’ed Kramer vs. Kramer, this Victor Victoria woman-playing-a-man-playing-a-woman faux queen party simultaneously reproaches and reclaims stereotypical femininity. Work a look to be entered into a best-dressed contest, perfect your look at one of Lady Coco Lareau’s style stations. Proceeds from the event go to the GO For the Cure Tour, benefitting the Callen-Lorde Community Health Center.

VICTORIA: Bridge & Tunnel Night, April 12

The Stonewall Inn  53 Christopher St, 10pm. $10; $5 with email to

03/19/08 12:00am
03/19/2008 12:00 AM |

For cowboy-boot’ed hipsters with swallows tattooed on their hips, Little Birds presents a rockabilly party with plenty of $3 mixed drinks after midnight to swallow down. Anchor yourself to the bar with a clove in hand and fly three sheets to the wind bent (like Icarus toward the sun) too close to the reef of the dance floor — rolling in a figure-eight of bow-line[d] dancing by bowlegged girls. This monthly Sailor Jerry party promises to be a maritime merry-time, and photographer Ben Duchac DuChamp’ion’s the party’s archive by capturing the boppin’ to rockabilly and 50s tunes.

Rope 415 Myrtle Ave, Bklyn, 9pm, FREE

03/19/08 12:00am

It [will be] a [dark], cold [night] [on March 19], and the clocks [will strike] thirteen as former ‘The Thirteenth Hour’ underground electronic radio show DJ Chris Alker (Art After Midnight, DEPROGRAM) and international DJing sensation Darren “The Brit” Hughes — frequently-gigging DJs and first-time collaborators, treating each other like younger-and-older brothers — dig through Or-wells of electro beats and short-hair skins/wavey-hair post punk (just hitting their stride after an 11pm to midnight open bar), in the midst of an uninterrupted, anarchistic seven-hour music session. Dine on Guglielmo Marconi and cheese and show up before the crowd outside mimics the Watts riots. Hughes and Alker promise raffle prizes, projections and rooftop star-gazing. He loved [Bloomberg].

The Delancey 10pm, FREE.
168 Delancey St, between Clinton and Attorney Sts

03/12/08 12:00am
03/12/2008 12:00 AM |

In a city as changeable as NYC, where parties are launched one week and gone the next, Tiswas has survived three venues, several resident DJs, and the ridiculous New York cabaret laws that forbid dancing (Footloose anyone?) — the indie disco prevails!

‘Tiswas’ officially means ‘a state of confusion or commotion,’ but one can assume that the name was taken from the 70s children’s show in which TISWAS stands for ‘Today Is Saturday, Watch and Smile.’
Watch and smile you will, as Nick Marc and fellow Brit Spiky Phil, along with helper elf Jess (TRASH!), delight your ears with the sounds of rock ‘n’ roll, indie, electro, Britpop, 60s soul and more. Of course, Tiswas is known almost equally for the its early-night live music and has seen legendary sets from such NYC music-makers as The Strokes, Interpol, Radio 4, Hopewell and Silver Rockets. The attendees are just as notable, as everyone from Courtney Love to Primal Scream has shown up. Come be a part of NYC’s longest-running indie disco, buy Nick a drink while you’re there — he deserves it.

Saturdays 11pm, $5 with flyer; $10 without
The Annex 152 Orchard St, between Stanton and Rivington Sts

02/27/08 12:00am
02/27/2008 12:00 AM |

With very stable Vidal Sassoon-vitals, 205 is like a Vo5 commercial of good hair and Chanel #5 model look-alikes, a veritable Fashion Cafe at the corner of Stanton and Chrystie Sts, in the buzzcut-worthy LES section that may soon eclipse Bedford Ave as “the face of the twenty-first century” Destination St. Partiers are coming out every night of the week and hardly standing around like Pucci mannequins, instead shaking their Sass’oons and ‘Notorious’ video-style Christy Turlington-turning and turning to the turntablism stylings of resident and guest DJs.

Channel Turlington as shot by Karl Lagerfeld for Chanel as you roll up in your Escada-fashionable Escalade to find Chloé models outside of this venue whose understated exterior makes it look like little more than a hole-in-the-wall, where while waiting in reaching-around-the-corner-lines women attend to their Maybelline looks and laud the new look of the neighborhood and the change in smell from trash to Estée Lauder. Vers’ace-out your wingman-esquire and go home with a rad-looking, Revlon red-lipped Prada model wearing Sassoon and sipping a Cosmopolitan.

The weekly, continuing into [Calvin Klein] eternity hair-raising highlights include: 205 Tuesdays, where Jacques Renault and Justin Miller tie rhythms together in knots as strong as dreadlocked hair, and, paradoxically, smooth as your dancing requires. Wednesday’s Taste Crew [upstairs] features Joey hosting while DJ Equal takes the reins and showers you with an amped up shampoo and conditioner electronic-ion balance as she plays, toward sensory overload, with EQs. Friday’s party from Max Pask, Andrew Potter, James F*&^#king Friedman and My Cousin Roy is a well-sculpted evening of turntables-as-potter’s-wheel-spinning where the crowd cries ‘Moore’ to each DJs sound, as identifiable as Demi’s Rosemary’s Baby-like, Vidal Sassoon for Mia Farrow-identifiable Ghost haircut. On Saturdays, Stu Bronze [upstairs] and Eric Duncan [downstairs] welcome you to hang out in the shady corners of the dance floor with your best pre-Spring/late-Winter fake tan bronzer and golden highlights. In addition to 205’s weeklies: for February 28’s Pornography, crimp your hair and come out to uncurl your toes on the dance floor as DJ OLE plugs in and heats up the floor with a electro-disco dance party.

205 Club
205 Chrystie St, at Stanton St