Even if the "no-dancing in bars" cabaret license is put to death, it won't be the end of nightlife regulation in Manhattan. Some think it'll be just the beginning. Tricia Romano talks to Slipper Room owner James Habacker in the Village Voice: "I feel they are talking about more, stricter regulation. I feel like we're dealing with people who have an agenda about wiping out nightlife in New York."
For the lazy and uninformed, now there's Fast Metropolis to plan your night out for you. Wha...? Yes, for a fee, they'll develop your very own white-hot super-cool Manhattan itinerary:
Nightclub Plaid threw a big free party for Nick Zinner of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs; to hear the Village Voice's Tricia Romano tell it, the party turned out to be not so much "free" as "$20" and not so much a "party" as a "massive flop."
A letter dated October 29, 2003, printed on the shiny metallic Soho House letterhead, recently arrived at the (primary) homes of Soho House members. Some choice excerpts:
For literally years now, Australians have been out of vogue in New York. Once they were a popular sparkling ethnic eccentricity. You just had to have an Australian or two at every party. But they got so played out so fast.
The funnest Halloween party in town today begins a little early: 11 a.m. Down in the courts of Centre Street, it's day two of Rosie O'Donnell v. the publishers of her magazine. Yesterday, the publisher's lawyers led off with a pretty serious attack on Rosie's character. Today's trial activities promise to be equally dishy. WWD has a fairly extensive report of yesterday's goings-on. Evidently, everyone who wants to be anyone will be there.
He Said, She Said [WWD]
Soho House is hiring a fresh crop of the blood-filled to satisfy its demanding cultural vampires:
"Native son of the Williamsburg scene" David Shapiro is building a supermarket for his exhibition in a Williamsburg gallery. Oh, but look! All the food in this store has already been eaten! For yes, these products are a complete record of everything Mr. Shapiro has consumed for the last two years.
With the opening of a branch of L.A.'s exclusive free membership Spider Club in New York, Los Angeles is evidently trying to reverse the cross-country flow of hip. The Times says: "On Oct. 31, Spider Club goes bicoastal with another club-within-a-club, this time at the New York branch of Avalon (the former Limelight). Membership cards are in the mail. 'New Yorkers are definitely more demanding than the Hollywood crowd,' Mr. [owner Steven] Adelman said. 'They always want the best table or a separate entrance.'"
In the freshest incarnation of viral marketing, young foxy women are paid to party hearty all night. These women are the new secret agents at the forefront of a brand launch. Fake flirting, they distribute free cocktails in nightclubs, hopefully addicting consumers to a new product — just like your friendly schoolyard weed dealer. The partying employees are pragmatic, of course. Says one: "Guys try to bullshit girls all the time — not that they're promoting liquor, but they use liquor to promote themselves." Word.
Someone just sent me Gawker/Soho House fan fiction. Dear. God. This is clearly one of those things that needs to be killed at birth. (Send me more!) A sample: "'The Management forces us to make trucker hats, and on our down time, the only acceptable subjects we can discuss are Bjork, Zaha Hadid, and Deconstructionism. I don't know if I can take it anymore!' a literary agent said among the group. 'But I'll be damned if I move back to Nebraska and forlornly read some ratty copy of Der Speigel.'"
Soho in Da House [Clodia of Rome]
Crankypants Manhattan blogger Jacob at Anti Gravity Cranberry finds his favorite dank SoNoLita (that's the neighborhood South of North of Little Italy) hideout overtaken by what appears to be a flash mob from Williamsburg: "You're probably still over there seeing who can make the most obscure but apropos movie quote. You play that game because you have no original thoughts or ideas; you're a sad depository of mildly entertaining pop culture. I know that you totally had those bootleg Slint studio tracks 6 years ago before they were available to, like, everyone, on mp3. Fuck all of you. Wait. You don't deserve to be fucked. Unfuck yourself and overdose on stepped-on brown smack you bought with trust-fund money you wannabe piece of ass no one wants."
Cheer Up Goth [Anti Gravity Cranberry]
Us Weekly, known in these parts as Gag Us Weekly, publishes an adoration of star! studded! Manhattan private club Soho House. "Even Edward Norton and Jessica Simpson have been in da House," they drool. Seems the magazine is stumbling along in their usual tabloid fashion even with "the devil" Bonnie Fuller gone from the helm.
The single most important battle for property ownership in the entire world is now getting sand wedged in many rich buttcracks. As we've all heard, Dunehampton is a proposed new village that essentially seizes the Hamptons beachfront from Watermill to Sagaponack. Hamptons royalty speaks up:
LES evangelist Lockhart Steele is soliciting PR pitches from business owners on the Lower East Sideand grading them. So far, the highest grade has gone to the owner of a soon-to-be-opened coffee/juice bar, who sent him pictures of, I kid you not, a boarded-up storefront.
In the white rooooom with black curtaaaains near the statiooon. Blackroof couuuuntry, no gold paaaavements, tired staaarlings...
