It's Friday, playas, meaning it's time for our favorite game, wherein we sort through the galleries of fucked-up hipsters at The Cobrasnake, Last Night's Party, Misshapes and Ambrel so you don't have to. Then we bring you our 10 favorites, freshly-cooked and ready for consumption. After the jump, let the verbal stylings of Joey Arak guide you through the heart of darkness.
From an article in today's Times, we "discover" that teens and their baby-boomer parents are embracing the vintage rocker aesthetic:
Meet Strummer Hoffston, the one and only writer living on the Lower East Side who experiences "cheap rent." The lucky bitch is featured in the latest edition of New York's Look Book, where she muses on her stoop-sale blazers, being named after the Clash's Joe Strummer, how gentrification makes bohemia impossible. Also of note: her mother, a hippie, was arrested a lot — mentioning this makes Strummer feel better about gentrifying everything she touches. After the jump, Intern Alexis gathers analysis on Strummer's style from Henry the Intern, AJ Daulerio, and Sarah Lewitinn.
This year, we're thankful for the latest participant in New York magazine's Look Book feature, Lisa Falcone. Ms. Falcone claims she used to model before meeting her hedge-funding husband, and now she's writing an anonymous novel. A quick Google search, however, reveals that Falcone is better known for her topless work (especially her NSFW appearance in Breast Men).
We've no idea where it came from, when it was shot, or what it all means, but it's a video of supermodel Kate Moss, topless, performing some sort of glorious seizure-dance.
In the face of natural disaster, we too wonder what the fuck to wear. A riveted hobo bag really would go nicely with those deadly muscles aches and pains.
In the latest edition of New York magazine's Look Book, we're introduced to 24-year-old Maame-Wansema, who moved here from Ghana eight years ago, when her father was a diplomat for the U.N. Dad's diplopower only got Maame so far, however: she's an aesthetic consultant for a cosmetic dentist. Maame likes to wear things that nobody else is wearing, so she shops at obscure boutiques like H&M, Banana Republic, Zara, and Daffy's. After the jump, Intern Alexis rounds up a sausage-heavy panel of Andrew Krucoff, Bucky Turco, and a man named Sac give their advice on Maame's unique style.
Super-cute email newsletter DailyCandy knows no boundaries in the pursuit of pretty clothes and precious tchotchkes, so few were surprised when those pretty ladies went and got a book deal. We've not seen much on the book-to-be, however, so stumbling upon the publisher's page for Daily Candy A to Z has felt like a slap in the unstylish face.
We'll go ahead and say it: We're absolutely in love with French Vogue editor Carine Roitfeld. And not in the strangely fascinated way in which we proclaim ironic "love" for her American Vogue counterpart, Anna Wintour. No, what we feel for Roitfeld is pure, unjaded, dewdrop-sincere love.
Kate Moss continues her rise from the Bolivian ashes: Fashion house Burberry, home of the quintessential plaid favored by many a biddy and Diddy, has stepped forward to publically support supermodel Kate Moss, who lost millions in contracts after being featured on the cover of the UK's Daily Mirror banging rails of cocaine.
• Paris Hilton's engagement ring from ex-beau Paris Latsis is 24 carats of cubic zirconia. Because when Paris does pathetic, she does it big 'n glitzy! [Page Six]
• Supermodels Naomi Campbell and Tyra Banks kiss, make up, and become irrelevant. Naomi's only interesting when she's throwing shit. [R&M]
• That random PR duo we mentioned yesterday? Turns out they're parting ways over "it" boy Fabian Basabe, who's stopped ruining his own life long enough to extend the favor to others. [Lowdown (2nd item)]
• Actor Chris Klein won't be cooking his dates any dinner. "At the end of the day, she's cooking the food," he tells Elle, thus ensuring that he'll never get laid again. [Liz Smith]
Oh, were you looking to pick up some of Stella McCartney's new line at H&M? Tough shit. At right, an image of the fray at one of H&M's Soho outposts. Writes one reader:
We just heard another interesting tidbit from the Accessories Council Excellence awards held on Tuesday. Allegedly, all reporters from our treasured tabloids (including Us Weekly, Star, Life & Style, and In Touch) were banned from the event. This was tactfully handled by the ACE publicist, who sent out an email late Monday night, retracting invitations.
We don't get the Victoria's Secret fashion show. On a very basic, carnal level we understand: Beautiful, half-naked women. Hell, even we're slightly mesmerized by the cellulite-less perfection of Karolina Kurkova's ass (bitch). But you can get that sort of eye candy anywhere, really — hello, internets! When you tout beautiful, half-naked women as part of a big ol' fashion show, however, it gains enough cred to be broadcast on primetime CBS.
We sort of hate ourselves for not attending Tuesday night's Accessories Council Excellence awards, held at Cipriani's 42nd Street lair. The event was, it seems, the place to be if your attention is sharply focused on the movements of Jessica Simpson and the twitches of the twins Olsen — but, you know, we were feeling gassy and According to Jim was on, so we just stayed in.
