Rohin Guha
November 01, 2009
Ohmygod, you guys! Did you, like, go to the hippest Halloween bash last night? It was quite hip and topically relevant. Like my Hurricane Andrew costume, which earned a few sharp jeers from angry motorists as I marched into Williamsburg for said hippest Halloween bash ever. That is, the much-hyped Vice Magazine Halloween party. If you went, maybe you wished that you instead stayed home to work on your decorative gourds, by which logic, you non-attenders were probably stewing with jealousy. That's alright! Bottomless wells of malt liquor and tequila inspires that kind of seething envy. Although despite the throngs of people snaking around the side of the building and probably into Greenpoint or something, the party inside was filled to maybe half of its total capacity. At best, the occupancy resembled Anderson Cooper's boyfriend's East Village bar on an early Tuesday evening. But it's the recession! And maybe that's the only logic warped enough to justify waiting two-plus hours in line. A recap of the blurry night in numbers, after the jump.


Back in March, we