Manhattan Offender

Maybe it's just me, but maybe the video for Toni Basil's "Over My Head" is the basis of every single item at Top Shop?

Via Sebastian.

In the New Great Depression, we can't be buying new clothes, but that's okay.

A gift of almost fifteen years ago, the Levi's denim jacket is like visiting an old friend. It was 'grunge' chic then. Now it's 'New Hobo' chic. 

Uggs for Men are rape for your feet and your sense of fashion and, well, life.

 

You see these and think, "Ah ha-ha, boyfriend went shopping in the ladies shoes," but, no, there are really Uggs for Men.  As pictured (style 5800, color sand), "the men’s UGG® Classic Short boot features lavish twin-faced sheepskin for the utmost comfort. Precision craftsmanship is evident in the Classic Short’s reinforced heel, raw seams and signature UGG® heel label. "

No, seriously, ugh.

UPDATE:  MK writes in:  "You do realize that Uggs were first developed for men-surfers to be exact."  No, MK, I (proudly) don't realize that, but you're right!

(Photo via the keen-eyed Alex Blevins.)

Fashion Week, like a wounded marmoset, chooses a remote shaded location to let itself die amongst double-wide strollers, latte-obsessives, and (prescribed!) pharmaceuticals

I've always said that the Upper West Side is where everything goes to die.  While my statement was always in regards to the residents (namely the "couldn't make it downtown so I'm having twins and becoming a Fairway cheese fiend" crowd), the relocation of Fashion Week to an ill-conceived Lincoln Center location just proves the point. 

Who knew how prescient I actually could be?

Sad Fashion Week's Relocation To Ruin Anna Wintour's 2010.

Follow up - My wishes are about to be granted

A little over two years later, my Bahia bracelet finally went down to the last threads and came off in my sleep last night.  Meaning that my three wishes are about to come true.  Meanwhile, two of the three already occurred. 

Link: Manhattan Offender: Wishes do come true.

So by presenting lots of the gays on Project Runway, Bravo helps the gays to hate themselves and love women in leather. Or? The night I met Suede in cotton and Stella in leathuh.

Every week there's been an invitation for a Project Runway viewing party.  As it typically takes place in Hell's Kitchen (a neighborhood unvisited in over a year), it always stays in the "maybe" status in Facebook.  (You would think it would be easier to just say no.)  What's different about this viewing is that the viewing is with one of the contestants, Suede.  This week, with friends (V and R and A) prodding me (and promising protection from "Hell's Kitchen gays"), I finally went.

Getting out of the cab, the conversion of Hell's Kitchen into Chelsea circa 1999 is obviously complete.  Skinny gays, old gays, eye-brow threaded gays and more travel in their gay gaggles from Thai-fusion place to Thai-fusion place.  Arriving at Posh, a quick look around reveals pink and yellow and lime green drinks in hands accompanying faces that must shave right after work because there is no facial hair, not even a trace of stubble. 

Soon after arriving, the guest of honor shows.  And he has a guest of his own.  Instantly, gaylebrities Suede and Stella are surrounded.  The first thing in mind is how they stack up in real life, compared to "reality" life.  Suede?  Not so technicolor and sort of solid looking.  Stella?  Head to toe leather leathuh and much prettier when her makeup is for life and not the camera.

After they make their way back to the viewing area, we're introduced by mutual friends.  Stella and I compare notes about Astoria (although she's a Chelsea girl now).  Suede gives good handshakes and better hugs.  From the brief introduction, it strikes me:  Where are the people to whom the Bravo teevee had introduced me?  She's gracious and he's not a flaming queen.

Finally the big moment arrives and the big screen television is now showing Project Runway.  Suede appears on the screen and the crowd claps and cheers.  Next Stella is on screen.  And the crowd roars.  As the opening continues a trend is evident.

As each of the gay characters contestants appears on screen, the gays go into cat mode.  They hiss about Blaine.  Daniel receives a group "ugh".  Even hunky Keith sets the nabobs to nattering.  All of Suedes' lines receive laughs and applause, but there is a more obvious favorite contestant named Stella. 

The crowd tizzies for Stella almost as much as they do for the drag queens, including many from the local talent stable.  Local royalty, some of whom I've sort of known for years are a welcome surprise.  Miss Understood has me most worried as I know she sources out her fabrics in Thailand and designs and makes her own clothing.  Sweetie hams it up and has the crowd woot-wooting.   And Hedda Lettuce has everyone nervous for Suede as she, well, is known to not spare her words.  Of all the queens (in drag, not the Bravo creations), Varla Jean is this crowd's favorite.

The show goes on and as Suede and Stella are deemed safe, the crowd explodes, but it sounds like auditions for Streetcar as the crowd cheers out "Stelllllaaaaah". 

After the show, I touch base with Suede again.  No bitchy.  No catty.  Granted, had I been with him for the full hour, there probably would have been the occasional comment that I could edit and make him out to be so.  After all, Bravo does it.  Also?  Not once did he refer to himself in third person.  All "I", no "Suede".

Having seen the show and enjoyed my Jack and Gingers (which is as "gay drink" as I go), I head out with my friends and a thought sticks with me.  The editing of Project Runway (as is expected of a reality show) creates characters of the contestants, but seems to harsh on the gays a bit more.  Is the payoff for representation self-loathing?

Shocker: My calves are better than Sean Avery's!

Last year, after reading the spring/summer issues of VMan and Fantastic Man, I took my old shorts, which were knee length to my tailor.  I instructed her to put them at the "new" length, approximately 3" above the knee.  She had me try on each pair, and we made estimations based on the fact that my ass gets smaller in summer due to increased walking and less eating.  In total, it was a fifteen minute process.  As always, she blew me a kiss as I left her shop.

Link: Yikes! Manhattan Men Bare Hairy Knees, Plump Calves | The New York Observer.

And now every homo you know will have a mustache

Last week, when the beard became a mustache, it just seemed to be a thing to do.  But looking at photos from the past weekend, apparently it was "a thing to do" for a ton of other guys as well.  As these are all guys living in a relatively small amount of space, the question is whether we are operating in a group mind or if there was one lead gay that went with a mustache which registered with everyone as "that looks good/I could do that".

Link: Double Headed Disco's Photos - Double Headed Disco: Are You Gay?.

Is my hat made from a dog?

Do you think my hat might be made of dog fur? It's Sean John. AND ... it was made in China. And the label doesn't even say. So, like, fuck, you know?

Leaving for lunch today this was the occupying obsession.  It was a Rhode Island purchase.  And purchased despite the label.  Sean John has haunted my life.  I'd first heard of him from a tranny prostitute bud of mine that mentioned we was down with 'the scene'.  Then a college associate of his was a contestant with me on Millionaire.  Okay, other than that, I supposed 'haunted my life' is a bit much.  Perhaps 'lived at the same time as me' is better.

And then there was the story of the Chinese dogs that were used as raccoon fur last year.  In jackets for Sean John.  And my dislike of rhyme-y names.  But really.  Ew.  Puppies?

Wonder Woman Wednesday: Girl, you better accessorize

Most women know that regardless of the clothes on a woman, any true assessment can be made from the way she accessorizes an outfit.  Could the allure of Wonder Woman be merely the fact that she accessorizes in a unique and utilitarian fashion?

Is it the tiara?  More than a mere sign of her Amazonian royalty, the tiara also serves as a boomerang with razor sharp edges.  Granted, with the edges being so well honed, there is the curiosity as to why it doesn't wreck her hair, but perhaps that is an indication of the her toughness, down to the follicular level.

Or is it the bracelets.  They deflect bullets.  Granted on a normal mortal this would be of little use, but because of her speed she can adequately protect herself with her bangles.

Even the earrings have been used as throwing stars, though rarely.

Clearly getting the maximum usage from every aspect of her wardrobe, she's a wonder of pragmatism.