Category Archives for Uncategorized
Sunglasses at Night
Decades ago, the likes of Lou Reed helped make Ray-Ban aviators the downtown rebel’s (and many other people’s) eyewear of choice. Last night, the brand embraced its rock roots with a concert headlined by the original Real Wild Child, Iggy Pop.
A chance to see the Stooges front man perform—for free, no less—is no small thing, and so plenty of acolytes made the trip over to the Music Hall of Williamsburg with time to spare, Lindsay Lohan, Kate Bosworth, and Kelly Osbourne included. This being a corporate gig, however, some were wondering if Iggy would truly bring it. “The last time I saw him, everybody from the second floor was pouring pitchers of beer on him,” recalled jewelry designer Eddie Borgo. That’s setting the bar pretty high. But when the headliner strutted out amid slashing guitars and tore his shirt off and flipped the audience the bird, he removed most everyone’s doubts.
Before long, Jessica Stam was peeling off her layers. A few feet away from her on an upstairs balcony, Juliette Lewis was whooping. Perfectly positioned to drizzle beer down onto the stage, Agyness Deyn was busy dancing, while below her, Iggy sweated, shouted, flopped onto the front row a few times, and at one point hauled as many crazed fans as he could onto the stage with him. How does the 63-year-old punk pioneer still do it? Photographer Mick Rock, who’s been around the block with him enough to have some insight, might have had the definitive answer: “He’s, like, a freak.”
—Darrell Hartman Continue reading
Spring Awakening
Early on last night at the Lincoln Center Institute’s Junior Spring Benefit, all the pieces seemed to be in place for a charity rager. At least one guest had called in a “doctor’s appointment” for the next morning, and the venue—the Hudson Hotel, which co-sponsored the event with Valentino—was supplying extra-large Champagne flutes. “They want to get us waaasted!” reckoned Nina Freudenberger.
But the interior designer and most of the other committee members kept it together, if only because seemingly every other one of them needed to be stage-ready the next day. Zoe Kazan, currently starring in A Behanding in Spokane, was cuddled up on a couch with her boyfriend, Paul Dano; a seat over were Mamie Gummer and her fiancé, Benjamin Walker, who’s playing the lead in Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson. And if you’re Lily Rabe, who’s currently in rehearsals with Al Pacino for the Shakespeare in the Park production of The Merchant of Venice, you probably don’t want to be battling a hangover at work.
Proceeds from the first-time event benefit the educational arm of Lincoln Center, which nurtures the sort of creativity Rabe and most of her fellow ticket-sellers (including designer Lyn Devon and photographer Frances Tulk-Hart) have been fortunate enough to cultivate more or less on their own. “As someone who struggled with math and science, I’m grateful for the arts education I had,” noted Rabe, who majored in theater at Northwestern. Doubtless Whitney Port and Lindsay Lohan, also in attendance, would have echoed that sentiment.
—Darrell Hartman Continue reading
Let the Games Begin
The town of Saint-Tropez has been a Riviera destination for Karl Lagerfeld for several years now. “More than I care to say,” he told us Monday night after a screening of his latest short film, Remember Now. Starring Elisa Sednaoui, Leigh Lezark, Heidi Mount, and Pascal Greggory, the flick glorifies the 24-hour revelry in this coastal playground for the rich and grandiose—revelry that the house of Chanel is temporarily orchestrating. The screening was just part of the festivities leading up to the French label’s resort show, which takes place tonight. The second phase of the opening night was an exciting game of bocce (don’t worry: I didn’t know what that was, either, but turns out it’s pretty similar to the game of washers or horseshoes, which this reporter played back home in St. Louis—perhaps the only similarity between Saint cities Louis and Tropez).
People weren’t messing around: “I want that trophy,” Diane Kruger cooed to boyfriend Joshua Jackson, who promptly got on the case, pep-talking his team and organizing the duels. Poor Vanessa Paradis didn’t stand a chance. “C’est impossible,” she cried out to the photographers, who would launch an explosion of flashes every time she tried to hurl down her bocces. In the championship games, which took place after a buffet dinner at Le Café on the Place des Lices, Lagerfeld himself presided over the proceedings, which turned out to be a three-way showdown between the Italians, the French, and the Americans. As it happened, Lagerfeld’s current man-muse, Baptiste Giabiconi, was rather good at the bocce. His final shot tipped the French to win the big title, a feat that apparently impressed his boss. I left at 2 a.m., a little tipsy and a lot jet-lagged—but the Kaiser was still there, between Amanda Harlech and his boys.
—Derek Blasberg Continue reading
On Top Down Under
—Tommy Ton Continue reading
Style Hunter: Minimal Evening
—Romney Leader Continue reading