NIXON NOW!

Tuesday, January 27, 2009

The lazy-ass blogger returns.

OK, it seems that I actually have some fans out in the blogosphere who crave my naughty asides and gimlet-eyed view of the world (does that mean you picture a gimlet cocktail when you shut your eyes? I certainly hope so, with extra pearl onions, please!). Well, in my attempt to write the great American novel, I think I will start writing sketches that will motivate something larger. So here goes...

A Night on the Town

Millie stepped out of the cab, attempting to stuff the taxi receipt into the pocket of her bag, and assessed the situation.

The party was glittering, much-hyped, certainly the party of the week. And this was no regular week. It was Fashion Week, after all.

Millie and Gloria, the beauty editor who manned “Product Central,” the beauty closet, compared invites regularly, weighing which would have the best cocktails (Millie preferred a nice white wine, anything but the ubiquitous Chardonnay, while Gloria kicked back anything sounding foreign—caparinhas, especially), possible dates (the boys were always gay or bored husbands with their super-shopper wives), and most tricked-out goodie bags, the type that might include a handbag or watch and certainly not shampoo or a gift certificate or foundation or magazine. Gloria had eyed tonight’s invite, and clucked, wondering how Millie, a lowly assistant editor, had scored the E-ticket ride to Fashion Week before turning on her Blahnik heel to organize her Kiehl’s products by SPF and Chanel eye shadow by quilted shade or something.

This invite might have been the Golden Ticket, but Millie wasn’t feeling especially Charlie en route to Oompah-Loompah Land tonight as she tucked her streaked hair behind her ear and coughed. Onwards and upwards, Millie, thought, onwards and upwards. It’s been a long road from Tampa, Florida after all, and she wasn’t one for giving up.

The sidewalk was barricaded, of course, thought Millie, so the little people—the ones who buy the fragrance and coin purses that actually keep the place in business—couldn’t get past the headset-wearing PR bitches.

Ah, but the night was young, and the world was her goddamn oyster. (Or at least that's what this month's horoscope in Cosmo told her, but then it also suggested kinky sex with a whip, so who could be sure of the veracity, right?)

Millie took a deep breath. Here goes nothing...

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

Kelly, Oh!

Kelly Wearstler before she was Kelly Wearstler. Wow.

Let's Bond!

Holy crap!

I have been invited to dine with London hotelier (and former Bond vixen) Anouska Hempel tonight at Cipriani Uptown. I loves me some Bellinis and way-pricey fish. And those breadsticks, divine.

I will report back on the chic Lady Weinberg's (that's Anouska's formal title) doings tonight post-dinner.

I imagine that Nous-Nous will be charming, unlike Kelly Hoppen.

Pedal to the metal.

I am lapping up these aluminum bottles from Coca-Cola. How chic, n'est-ce pas? Adds some glamour to run-of-the-mill soda. Feels very St-Tropez.

Drink up, buttercup!

Monday, October 27, 2008

Yum, yum, yum!

I am just back from a fab dining experience. De Santos at 139 West 10th Street in the West Village, across from the over-hyped Bar Blanc. 212-206-9229. And around the corner from my daily cantina, Morandi.

Great price point, really terrific cooking. From the pasta rich with mussels (god, I sound like a hack food writer) to the lamb and the amazing swordfish (if I were still writing food reviews, I would have said something silly like "the luscious lamb dusted with breadcrumbs and the succulent, tender, and moist swordfish nestled on a bed of tender kale..." BARF, loathe that style of writing!), De Santos was charming, cheap, and chic. Roberto Polesello, one of the co-owners, ran Savanna's in Southampton for years and now oversees his own show... Kudos, really special.

Run. Now.

Friday, October 24, 2008

A taste of High Point, NC and the furniture shows!

I have just returned from four fun-filled days in High Point, NC where I gallivanted about the twice-annual furniture shows. Yours truly is totally not jaded about his biannual southern sojourns, in fact I love doing market. It's like old friends week! Such fun!

HIGHLIGHTS

-Driving down to HP in a kitted-out Lexus. It parked itself.

-Bethanne. Matari. Two words that equal party overload. To quote the coquette-ish Ms. Matari, "I love this chicken, but she's a bitch."

-The House Beautiful BBQ at the magazine's wildly chic "home" on Emerywood Drive. Gobs of old friends plus Ina Garten's cooking.

-The Domino cocktail party at Sammy G's courtyard. Deborah Needleman and Beth Brenner, Domino's doyennes, are the two coolest cats around. Fabulous fun!

-Shimmer!

-Metallic leathers!

-Rich green leathers!

-Graphic florals!

-Christine Phillips: If you don't know the public relations glamour guru behind such brands as Barclay Butera and Woodson and Rummerfield, you should meet her and pronto! Smart, chic, stylish... The grooviest gal in town.

-The Dog House: The world's best hamburgers. And hello to our fellow diner, the lovely Robin Richter.

-Mayberry: A fabulous throwback diner across from the hoity-toity Emerywood where you queue up forever for a table.

-Ubiquitous fabrics! Remember that cherry blossom a few seasons back? See the chair to the right. Somehow the chair uploads to a weird color on my blog... It was actually a brown shade but looks blue here. OK, so I am not an IT guru...

-Dinner with Mitchell Gold and Bob Williams and the inimitable Eloise Goldman! Eloise is the tops.

OTHER NOTES:

-Poor Margaret Russell! We wish her a speedy recovery.

-KC and the Sunshine band are not dead.

-Newell Turner and Stephen Drucker are TOO nice. Adore them! Gracious, lovely.