BlackBook Magazine

I once fell in love with a girl in Midtown. It wasn't the kind of natural love I have for my mother or the dopey love for an ex-girlfriend. It was the kind of love I feel when I've drank seven vodka sodas and a beautiful blonde is writhing in my lap wearing nothing but a thong while Tricky's "Christiansands" plays on the loudspeaker. Then I get to talking with her. She tells me how she used to date Jake Gyllenhaal in lovable South African accent, and I wonder what time she gets off work. Thirty minutes later and she's in the lap of an elderly Asian man with a softheaded smile, and I suddenly snap out of it--oh right, I'm a customer. Such is but an average night at Rick's Cabaret & Steakhouse, a rising gentleman's club in Manhattan that is looking to topple Scores as New York's premiere place to see URL-free naked women.

A few years back, it was penguins who ruled the documentary roost. Then came docs about Iraq. I predict the next trend in nonfiction filmmaking will have something to do with the economy, but until then, following French electro acts on tour looks like the subject matter du jour. Watching the trailer for the new Justice tour DVD A Cross the Universe made me giddy with jealousy as well as forcing an unwelcome life-path reconsideration. The doc was shot by So Me (the man responsible for Justice's brilliant "DVNO" video), while the Ed Banger boys toured their breakthrough album †. Another documentary, C'est L'Amerique, featuring BlackBook favorite Yelle, is also in production; this one's by Yoann Lemoine, who, beginning ten days ago, is following the French singer around the US and Iceland (and also shot her newest video for "Ce Jeu." Combined, the teasers show that the French are effortlessly cooler than we are, and they probably have more fun in this country than we do. Because when it's all said and done, they get to leave. Videos after the jump.

I love Hollister Hovey. Well, actually, I love her eye and style. And guess what else? She makes me want to drink gin! That's right. She makes me dream of colonial Africa, where I would live in a roomy canvas tent, wear linen suits, doff a pith helmet, and drink lots and lots of gin. Maybe occasionally head into the bush, go native, and drop a fringe-eared oryx. Or maybe buy a beautiful antique Purdey shotgun and go pheasant hunting in Scotland. Or just stay home with my yellow Labrador Gunner, surrounded by books and old photos, and read Hemingway. "If something's covered in exotic leather or a pith helmet, I'll want it," Hovey says. "It's always been this way, probably from the womb."

Like two bitterly competitive siblings, Eastern and Western cultures have always had a tempestuous relationship. Take for example, Persepolis: one country's war-torn turmoil became another country's Oscar-worthy contender for Best Animated Feature. Ultimately, it always boils down to one culture flourishing as the other founders.

Mark Baker of Mansion and Lotus fame (among others) rises early, loves Russia, accepts responsibility for the superficial lounges he helped create, and has fun while trying not to get stabbed by irate, rebuffed club-goers (again).

How did the day start for you today? Actually, today was an early start. I get calls from Europe [early] because nobody [there] has any idea what time it is here, so my day started at 7 a.m. I always leave my phone on because you never know what catastrophes or overdoses or suicide cases or whatever our friends and clients ... People with suicide these days is a really heavy deal. There’s a lot of kids out there who just give up, and that’s part of running a network of friends and clients, basically just keeping an eye on everyone. And being accessible.

You get a lot of these crises? I get crises, I get idiots, I get friends I get ... models.

Our biggest faux-pas in dealing with this financial pickle is this idea that we need to bail ourselves out. Since when are we not relying on other countries to save our collective asses? We're already like two trillion dollars in debt to China, and it looks like this credit crunch isn't hurting them all that much, so why not ask them for help? It's not like we haven't done it before. If our government is too stubborn to ask the People's Republic, it doesn't mean you can't go to them for relief. New York's Chinatown is home to some of the cheapest eats in New York, and luckily not that far from Wall Street, so goodbye Harry's and hello to that fried food cart on Canal Street.

While former fashion designer Helmut Lang left his namesake house, and the fashion world entirely, to pursue a career in fine art -- namely with the cheekily titled project, "hl-art" -- nearly three years ago, Lang’s innovative, pared-down fashions have certainly not been forgotten. In fact, Lang’s iconic deconstructivist designs are seeing new light thanks to an exhibit housed in German arts magazine 032C's Konstantin Grcic-designed Museum Store in Berlin.

Hiroshi Shafer is a mixed-media artist who's not so keen in providing constricting titles for his works, instead opting to unify a set of pieces by the name given to the exhibition. And if that's the case, his current show at Brooklyn's English Kills Art Gallery (which previously played house to a group show that included a giant minotaur) holds a peculiar promise in its implicit irony. "Everything Seems Ok to Me!" presents the latest in neo-pop art from Shafer, who's made a reputation by crafting rubbery, resin-based alien-like sculptures -- pieces that suggest the exact opposite of the exhibition's namesake. Shafer's work is on display through October 19.

Shannen Doherty's rebirth into the spotlight is cause for celebration, no doubt. Couple that with an appearance on the cover of Radar's October issue, and the only kind of fête to do it justice is an event tomorrow night at a WWII-inspired, spelling impaired Flatiron bar, Catch-22. And judging by the tiny logos on the bottom of the invite, suds are courtesy of Blue Moon, vodka by Tito's. David Barton Gym is hosting the event, and are deploying their personal trainers to make sure each beer is accompanied by 1,000 crunches. For a whiff of Ms. Doherty's hair and a brand new six-pack, rsvp to . Party runs 8-10 p.m.

The world’s worst DJ -- yours truly -- hit the turntables Sunday night at La Zarza. The place was packed with a beautiful crowd who surprisingly didn’t leave. Usually I’m terrible, but I think I might have only been awful. With Mondays easily the best night out around town, it makes sense that the ultimate off night, Sunday, would attract A-listers searching for a place far from the maddening bridge & tunnel crowds that rule the weekends. Jamie Burke, the Calvin Klein model and Bloody Social lead singer, was pitching platters downstairs. My boy Chris Willard came on after me on the main floor. They want me back next week. They're either desperate, or deaf, or desperate and deaf.