With the release of her new album, Ultraviolet, Kid Sister is finally making her mark on the music industry and showing us that she’s more than just another Kanye disciple. Over the last three years she has given us a taste of her fearless style and unique sound, but now we get to see what this Chi-town native is really capable of. We caught up with the spunky Kid Sister to talk about being a woman in a man's world and how if you don't like her sound, you might just be allergic to fun.

"I’m like the canvas side -- the shitty side that gets dirty quick -- and Gucci is the luxury leather,” says British musician and dandy Mark Ronson, parsing the components of one of the limited-edition boat shoes he designed with the high-end fashion house. The Grammy-winning turntablist (and brother of fashion designer Charlotte Ronson) partnered with Gucci’s creative director Frida Giannini to create hip footwear for the labels Icon-Temporary sneaker line. Sitting at the back of Indochine, New York’s storied nightlife destination, Ronson excitedly pokes at the eyelets and pulls at the laces on one of his high0tops. (Check out Indochine: Stories, Shaken and Stirred, celebrating the restaurant's 25th anniversary; see a gallery of selected photos.) The shoes will be sold at pop-up shops in New York, Miami, Tokyo and London, among other locations. Each pair comes with a Gucci iPhone app that allows users to mix their own songs. What’s more, customers who buy the trainers will snag a brand-new Ronson track inspired by each of the cities.

As a 21-year-old Russian beach bum, he started Israel’s first and only ski resort, followed by an open-air Amazon village complete with volleyball court and golf driving range on the Hudson River. He went on to open the Kit Kat Club that featured Cabaret off-Broadway, and finally Sushi Samba. His Sugarcane Raw Bar Grill will also open in coming months in Miami, just in time for New Year's. While celebrating Sushi Samba's 10 Year Anniversary this month, Shimon Bokovza is just warming up.

At Cambridge, he wasn’t as funny as John Cleese (born Cheese) or Graham Chapman, who were in the comedy footlights, and -- while deciding on a career as either a journalist or a chef -- he took up amateur drama. Since University, Sir Ian McKellen has become the consummate professional.

Along with your favorite BlackBook editors, anyone who’s Joseph Gordon Leavitt is on the blogging platform Tumblr. And everyone in the social media spherejerk will be talking about the events that transpired tonight for the remainder of the week. So I thought I would prepare you for the onslaught. Straight white person and Social Media jack of all trades Justin Johnson proposed to his girlfriend on the blogging platform this evening to confusion and uproar. (Happiness is a pill hard swallowed by the unhappy.) The issue at play here is that it would have been one thing if the well-edited video proposal was simply included in a post, but the entire site (or "dashboard" in Tumblr parlance) was reconfigured to accommodate his proposal. And as this exercise, forced upon the Tumblr community, will be the basis for a crush of media fodder and commentary about THE WAY WE LIVE NOW, the proposal is inherently tantamount to an advertising stunt.

On August 7, Wale announced via Twitter that his debut album Attention Deficit, originally set for a September release, would be pushed back until October. On September 14, Wale announced that his album would be pushed back until November 3. On October 8, Wale announced that his album would be pushed back until November 10. You see where this is going. But, at last, on November 10, the album finally hit stores, only for news to break that Interscope had not provided enough in-store copies for fans to cop. All things considered, it has been a fairly tumultuous ride for the DC rapper, who, despite releasing several noteworthy mixtapes, has seen his rise to fame trickle in slowly compared to brethren like Drake and Kid Cudi. In between a steady stream of phone calls, text messages and Tweeting this summer, Wale took a few contemplative minutes to shed some insight on his pre-album, post-marijuana, state of mind.

Dear Uncle Steve: My wife of three years -- conservative, incredibly sexy, Catholic -- just asked me to agree to and arrange a threesome as her birthday gift. I never saw this coming, but I’m obviously intrigued and thrilled. How on earth do I choose a woman who’s right for this? And how do I propose the scenario to our new "friend"?

Dubiously, Three's Company

Dear Three’s Company: The timing is your problem.

Giuseppe Tuosto (from Napoli) and partner Marcello Villani (a Capri native) have brought their Italian upbringing to their New York restaurant/lounge Via dei Mille. Alongside the Philly-raised but New York-braised Barry Mullineaux, the three have been sharing a loud and lively weekend brunch extraordinaire with SoHo for exactly one year now. On the eve of their anniversary, as the models and socialites of NYC prepare to gather at Via for fine Italian fare set to the backdrop of rowdy DJ beats and table dancing, the boys stop to reflect on their triumphant first year.

With 2012, Roland Emmerich has briefly resurrected and subsequently destroyed the disaster film trend he started. After his mega-hit Independence Day made it a guilty pleasure to watch landmarks get decimated, a slew of movies with names like Volcano and Armageddon ended the world as we know it with sociopathic glee. But long after superheroes and sequels took over the summer blockbuster business, every two years or so Emmerich somehow feels the need to seriously fuck shit up all over again (except New York). He did it with The Day After Tomorrow a few years back, and now he's at it again, for what he says is his disaster curtain call. With earthquakes, tsunamis, and volcanoes all in one movie, there's nothing left to do. We spoke to the director about Obama's influence on his movie, the suspension of disbelief, and why he cast Will Smith in Independence Day. (And can we attribute his iffy quote about Smith's African-American-ness to, um, a language barrier?)

I was not supposed to meet Jared Leto.

I wasn't supposed to be in that picture. I wasn't supposed to be charmed by him or his band, who I'd never listened to before this. I definitely hadn't intended on spending a day with the three of them in downtown New York, followed by paparazzi, rabid teenage fans, and a procession of managers, publicists, and stylists, for a feature to go in our November issue. And I definitely didn't set out to think -- or write -- any of the following things about Jared Leto, the actor, the rock star, the heartthrob, the celebrity. In my life, Jared Leto had existed in exactly the context I needed him to, and for whatever it's worth, I think it's safe to assume (or will be after this), vice versa. I was fine with it, and it didn't need to change.

But it did.

And it started, like so many stories, with a problem. And the problem was that my editors fucked me out of a day-trip to Philly.