Just heard a very realistic rumor that East Village hipster standby The Annex has been sold and will become, of all things, a sports bar. In honor of the decline of yet another club kid landmark, the infamous electro-nu-rave Ruff Club party will be throwing a final hurrah for the sweat den it made popular on September 11, bringing out some underground all-stars: the Misshapes, Spencer Product, and the Ruff Kids. Another fond farewell to a Friday night hotspot that many called home.
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Moises de la Renta could very well be a reality television icon by now. With Fashion God Oscar de la Renta as his father and a velvet rope lifestyle, he certainly fits the I-wish-I-was-him credentials. But Moises opted for a real (and respected) career in design/photography. And if his recently launched, painfully hip website for his bad ass womenswear fashion line MDLR is any indication, his career choice was wise. We met up to chit-chat for what I thought was drinks at the Thompson Hotel, but to my surprise, I was greeted by the man about town in a room full of models getting ready for their close-ups in an MDLR photo shoot featured on Whatswear.com. It was all lights, cameras, and action, mixed with plenty of cigarettes, blaring background noise of the sub-par performances of MJ's classics from the previously aired BET Awards, sexy leather biker jackets complete with gilded MDLR zippers -- and, in true rock star form, an Iggy Pop vs. David Bowie debate.
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Dining might be the new nightlife, so then where does that leave nightlife? Could nightlife be the new shopping? Could it be still alive and well, and hiding behind a bandolier of dusty velvet ropes? Our dear Foster's existential breakdown and subsequent pocketbook damage got me to thinking about what everyone else (re: people with jobs other than chronicling New York nightlife) is doing with their free time in Manhattan. I cornered a Wall Street Dude, a New York Newbie, a Hipster DJ, a girl-about-town Socialite, a Fashion Intern, and a Lawyer to see what's going on behind our editorial backs. Turns out actually going someplace isn't a precursor for strong opinions, pro or con. For example:
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When we suggested that the media "hype" behind Beatrice Inn "rival" and New York "hotspot" Chloe 81 peaked, we were so, so wrong. This cat has many more than nine lives, apparently. Because the Village Voice's Annie Fischer (of "Dirty Blonde" column fame) wrote a timeline about the hype (she called me a "writer," which was nice of her. Seriously! Hi, Annie!). And then The Observer wrote about the Voice's writing about the hype, in yet another media colonoscopy. And now I'm here, writing about people writing about people writing about the hype! And still, it's just another blog post about a club!
The Village Voice has legitimized the media's feverish obsession with LES speakeasy Chloe 81 by cataloging its recent coverage with an actual chronological history, you know, the kind they use for wars and stuff. Yes, we're a major historical figure in Chloe's storied media-coverage past, and we admit to spending hours in the situation room pontificating on whether or not Chloe is the new Beatrice Inn. Which is why, tomorrow, at sundown, we will be holding a press conference in front of neutral nightspot Rose Bar, to lay down the final verdict on Chloe 81. Only then can we get back to more pressing matters, like the economy and whether or not Scarlett Johansson knows how to sing.
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Nightlife impresario Dirk Van Stockhom on his new venture at 98 Kenmare Street, being a 13-year-old English playboy, and why Sudan is the new global hotspot.
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Having a barber shop opening in a bar with A-list attendees boggles the mind. But this is New York, and I was playing favorites last night. The venue in question, Chloe 81, happens to be my beloved watering hole, and one of the DJs, Steven Rojas, is also choice. So we decided to drink to better hair.
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