“Who would have thought that a show about a guy with a big dick would become such a hot commodity?” says Paul Iacono, as he passes a giant billboard for HBO’s Hung, the word “Ho” plastered across Thomas Jane’s face. Never mind the overlap, this season, the 21- year-old writer-actor will play RJ in MTV’s Hard Times, a series about a young loner with, according to Iacono, “a massive, massive penis -- but the show’s main organ is its heart.” He also stars in this month’s “reinvention” of Fame, a role for which he’s visibly grateful. But while strolling through his favorite East Village haunts (see our behind-the-scenes video), he’s just been informed that the film’s rating has gone from PG-13 to PG. “My character now says, ‘It was everything I hoped for and more, except for the part where I’m still a virgin -- technically,’ instead of, ‘I was supposed to get laid.’ But,” he adds, grinning, “At least I get to drop my pants on TV.”

Flora Gill is a fashion victim -- literally. One-half of the New York-based label Ohne Titel, alongside Alexa Adams, Gill was blinded by the bright lights at a Calvin Klein and Visionaire party the night before her BlackBook shoot and interview; hence, the dark sunglasses she kept on while inside their Chelsea studio. But no one would accuse these two designers, or the women who wear their fierce creations, of being soft -- or anything other than fashionably forward. “Personally, we have very different styles,” says Adams, “but the way in which we critique each other and unite makes something completely different and stronger, rather than just being about one viewpoint.”

Lock up your daughters: Inked, but sharly attired, a band of sartorial punks inject the mean streets of Milan with edge. Photography by Pieter Henket. Styling by Chris Benns. See full gallery.

She may not be a household name herself, but it is thanks to Lauren Zalaznick that American audiences have come to know and love—and loathe—such outsize personalities as Rachel Zoe, Tabatha Coffey (of Tabatha’s Salon Takeover), Millionaire Matchmaker Patti Stanger, the five Queer Eye guys and far too many Real Housewives and project Runway contestants to rattle off here. As President of NBC Universal Women and Lifestyle Entertainment Networks, Zalaznick has reshaped the way this country zones out.

With a frighteningly good album on the horizon, the nomadic band of super-troubadours known as Monsters of Folk—Conor Oberst and Mike Mogis of Bright Eyes, M. Ward of She & Him and Jim James of My Morning Jacket—map out their favorite traveling tunes.

A small portrait of Adam Green adorns the entrance to his East Village apartment, the words “Kafka Lives” written across the top of the framed sheet of paper, painted over by what look like smatterings of diluted watercolor red. “Pete Doherty painted that with a syringe,” says the 28-year-old singer-songwriter. “He wanted to use my blood but I said he had to use his own.” Seated in his living room next to friend and collaborator Lissy Trullie, downtown New York’s latest hope for rock salvation, he motions to a different, napkin-size painting: “Beck’s grandfather did that one.”

Adrift in the City of Lights, an otherworldly out-of-towner (and her sidekick) overshadows the crowds in this season's most heaven-sent designs. Photography by Kristian Schuller. Styling by Peggy Schuller. See full gallery.

Two years after stripper-turned-screenwriter Diablo Cody shocked Academy old-timers by taking home the Oscar for Best Original Screenplay for Juno, the one-woman sloganeer returns with Jennifer’s Body, a horror film starring Megan Fox’s breasts. Here, the creator of Showtime’s The United States of Tara unleashes the Furies on the world’s most rank fashion blunders.

These days, I write for BlackBook the magazine as well as online. The magazine has limited space, and I have long stories to tell. Here's the expanded version of my September print column.

As I wander around Manhattan on deserted summer Sundays with my entourage of furry mates, I sometimes pass an old warehouse or deli that once was the hottest place around. Sometimes I sneak a glance and try to remember where the bars or DJ booth were. The Petco on Union Square, for example, was the Underground, and after that The Palace de Beaute. I smile at reptile food where lounge lizards chatted up debutantes to Jellybean Benitez beats. The "five best clubs in my memory" is an exercise I try every couple years. The list can change, as my memory serves me in some strange relationship with the amount of distractions cocktail waitrons serve me. It's my memory, and as I'm sure there were amazing clubs before my time, I'll leave that list to some other dude. You wont find El Morocco on the list, or even the Copacabana or Latin Quarter. I'm sure these were swell places, but before my time. The Peppermint Lounge -- a club where the young Beatles played -- must be noted, but again I was playing with tin soldiers at the time.

Sure, she was still a child in the ’80s. But given her string of command performances, we knew that Claire Danes was perfect for our fashion story on the revival of powerhouse dressing inspired by the greed decade. After all, her strength on-screen -- and off -- made Zac Efron quake in his boots at the mere thought of working with her in Richard Linklater’s upcoming film, Me and Orson Welles.