As we were perusing Style.com's extensive photo collections of Paris' current fashion week extravaganza, we couldn't help but notice the lack of "and friend" captions. Whereas the picture at right, from the Dior backstage gallery, would have once been captioned, "Kate Hudson and friend," it now simply reads, "Kate Hudson, right." (Oh, is she on the right side? Thanks, we were confused.)
• Back to the future: post-coke supermodel Kate Moss is being considered for an upcoming campaign for Calvin Klein, the label that launched her to fame in the halcyon 90's. Meanwhile, Burberry — which originally dropped the model immediately after her scandal — is rumored to have made Moss another offer. It's amazing what drug abuse can do for your career. Hoover now or be left behind! [Page Six]
• High-res Lohan coke-nose. [SFF]
• High-res Lohan nipple. [WWTDD]
• Brad Pitt and Vince Vaughn are so offended by Showbiz Show host David Spade's "hardcore" humor about their love lives, they've both threatened Spade. Coincidentally, isn't that show premiering soon? Gosh, Spade is such a bad-ass, we'll have to watch it now. [R&M]
• Nick Lachey makes the ultimate financial comeback, snagging half a million for a Gunnar Peterson infomercial. Jessica must be so jealous. [Page Six]
• Jane Fonda, Ted Turner, threesome, video camera... and then we lost consciousness. [Lowdown]
• Another fake Paris Hilton hits the wires, as if the real one weren't enough. [Scoop]
We actually kind of like the featured fashionista, Kate Chapman, in this week's edition of New York magazine's Look Book, if only because she straight-up admits that she sometimes looks "like a crackhead." Oh, if only all the other Look Bookers were so self-aware, the world would be a better place. Anyhow: Miss Kate works at Jen Bekman's gallery and can be seen walking around, sockless and in linen pants, in the middle of winter. She describes this look as "pretty classic and downtown-preppy," inspired by Debbie Harry, and explains her bleached hair as a rebellious move inspired by life at Wake Forest. She also notes that her headband is taken from her "ski bin," which we believe is where Kate stores dirty pictures of Bode Miller. Good to know, right?
From the table of contents in the current Vogue:
It's Friday, and that can only mean 2 things: you've got a marvelous hangover, and we've got Blue States Lose, our weekly exercise in tough love. We sort through the galleries of the insane and inane hipsters at The Cobrasnake, Last Night s Party, Misshapes and Ambrel so you don t have to. After the jump, Joey Arak dishes his sartorial philosophy.
Meet Ai Ly, a jeans designer for Ralph Lauren. In New York magazine's latest Look Book, Ai confesses that despite being the evil one behind atrociously expensive jeans, she prefers vintage — so much so, in fact, that she owns pieces that have vintage blood stains on them. So hip, right? Ai also makes her own clothes, thinks tomahawk-style fringe and feathers will be big for spring, and considers her look very "ragamuffin." We don't know; she lost us at the blood stains. Intern Alexis (who has a much stronger stomach than we do) rounds up Maisie Tivnan, Sarah Gray, and Daniel Feder for further analysis.
The only thing that could possibly improve on such a sunny Friday is Blue States Lose, our weekly game in which we sort through the galleries of blissfully retarded hipsters at The Cobrasnake, Last Night s Party, Misshapes and Ambrel so you don t have to. After the jump, Joey Arak shows you his MySpace profile.
We love Target, and we're down with Luella Bartley's fun style, so it's cool that the designer is doing a line of clothes for the retailer. And she's British, and so are double-decker buses, which are equally fun at times, so it kind of makes sense if...
From — where else? — today's Thursday Styles:
By the time we learned of Paris Hilton getting flour dumped on her by the folks from PETA, who hit London's Fashion Week for some more anti-fur circus tricks, we were far too exhausted to put any real effort into finding pictures of the incident. Thankfully, lovely bloggers do our work for us:
Harry Bernstein, this week's subject in New York mag's Look Book, is a Cathew — half Catholic, half Jewish, and all hip-hop. An advertising art director who hasn't found inspiration in much since his peyote trip in the White Sands desert, Bernstein loves Southern girls and "taking two things that already exist" to combine his "original" look. After the jump, Intern Alexis picks the brains of Tiffany Gong, Rachel Khong, and Jacob Carlson for thoughts on Harry's super-original peacoat/hat/scarf combo look.
A little behind on your reading? Brooks Brothers — the WASPtastic clothiers of stuffy fathers everywhere — offers a few literary selections, perfectly tailored to their consumers: A Lady at the Table, How to Raise a Lady, and How to Be a Lady. Not a bad selection, but if you head in-store and give the salesman that special, knowing wink, you also get a free copy of How to Beat a Lady.
Tonight and tomorrow at the Four Points Sheraton, the Fashion Killers (whatever that means) will be showing avant-garde wares from San Francisco designers. You care, of course, because the invite boldly proclaims that JT Leroy will be on the turntable at some point. We've no idea if this means Laura Albert (the woman who concocted Leroy) is playing off of her iPod or if Savannah Knoop will be toting a collection of DFA 7-inches — but, seriously, what the fuck? JT Leroy is getting more press and work than the rest of the literary community combined, and the dude doesn't even exist.
Now that Fashion Week has finally ended and the queer and fabulous have moved on to the next party, you can resume your usual routine of trying to become a supermodel (and oh, you will, darling — now that those attention-grabbing Croatian whores have left Bryant Park, the spotlight is yours). Your next big audition is this Thursday, at an open call for Kimora Lee Simmons' Baby Phat line:
Don't ask us why a show featuring catty, aspiring fashion designers frantically hot-gluing cat-suits together and bitching conspiratorially about each other to a camera lens is so damn addictive Project Runway just is. Part of it is the contestants' ingenuity we look forward to the episode when Heidi Klum greets them in an emergency room and tells them, "Use any of the materials around you to make a wedding dress for Tori Spelling. You have 90 seconds. Go!" but then just as entertaining are their personalities themselves. Santino Rice has emerged as the predominant bad guy this season, and what a villain he is: The guy's a dead ringer for Rasputin, though Santino would have probably given the Tsar a head-to-toe makeover after he was done brainwashing him.
While not exactly a spoiler (we learned our lesson yesterday, rest assured), a reader emails with a recap of this morning's Project Runway finale, in which the finalists showed their collections to a live audience and a panelist of judges (including guest judge Debra Messing). The corroborated report:
Fridays are delightful, and no less so because of Blue States Lose, our weekly game in which we sort through the galleries of blissfully retarded hipsters at The Cobrasnake, Last Night s Party, Misshapes and Ambrel so you don t have to. After the jump, Joey Arak teaches you how to wear your kohl liner smeared like the stars.
After a mere two days of our new And Friend feature, in which we attempt to identify the nameless companions pictured with boldfacers, Style.com seems to have taken offense. How else to explain the complete lack of front row photos from yesterday's fashion shows? Did the pretty web editors think we were making fun of them? We weren't, honestly. The "and friend" caption is everywhere, and just imagine how many worthy people have been mislabelled as the anon-a-friend when, in fact, they're in possession of some identity worthy of being named!
