The New Leading Man: Would the cast of 'Ocean’s 47' please clear the room for Patrick Wilson? By George, Hollywood’s most underappreciated character actor has finally grown into a bona fide box office draw!

For a man whose long-term plan was to tread the New York theater circuit, Patrick Wilson has taken a seriously wrong turn. “It’s been awesome,” says the 35-year-old Tony Award nominee and star of Angels in America, Hard Candy and Little Children. “I really love making movies.” And with another four in the can, including the recently released thriller Lakeview Terrace and the upcoming superhero behemoth Watchmen, Wilson is meandering dangerously close to leading man territory. “I don’t even know what that means!” he says. “I’m glad my movies make money, but if it’s leading man or character man, it’s all good.”

Oh that Mark Ronson! Is there anything he can't do? After all, he handed Amy Winehouse one of the most enduring records in the pop world. But having had no shortage of success, the dreamy DJ recently slagged Winehouse after she botched their chances to record the theme for Quantum of Solace. This in turn subjected us to this dreck. Perhaps we should spurn Wino similarly? Ronson also wearies of Lily Allen -- as her personal problems interfere with the creative process. Never mind the fact that she's poised to avoid sophomore slump. So what's a picky producer to do?

Change it up. The dawn of a new year is prime time to take a leap into the unknown -- as a country, and as individuals. In honor of that, we’ve got an issue crammed with new stars who are making inroads into the culture by following their gut and letting their passion fire the way.

On the cover of our December-January 2009 issue, James Franco relaxes along with the rest of the New Regime army -- 28 up-and-coming monster talents detailed and described for your pleasure. The issue hits newsstands on December 9, but be sure to come back here for the full story online. And won't you please spend a moment tripping down memory lane in our online cover gallery.

● The big question on American's minds: What is Michele Obama gonna wear to the inauguration? Check out what designer's from Karl Lagerfeld to Betsey Johnson have in mind. [WWD]
● Kristen Stewart, hot off Twilight-mania, is set to play Joan Jett in The Runaways biopic, directed by photographer and music-video director Floria Sigismondi [Hollywood Reporter]
● Naomi Watts' "people" are in talks to due a nude portrait session with Aussie photog David Bromley. The jury's still out if she'll be doing the "Demi" thing or not. [British Vogue]

The New Vamp: Bookish babe Kristen Stewart sinks her teeth into the lead role of the bestselling, bloodthirsty 'Twilight'.

A passionate lover of literature, Kristen Stewart’s version of High School Musical would find her in AP English parsing John Steinbeck and Kurt Vonnegut. Between takes, she reads Charles Bukowski. How else might a quiet teenager, who calls herself “a typical Valley Girl,” pull up to the table headed by Sean Penn? The director cast her as a kind of trailer park Cat Power in last year’s Into the Wild after she auditioned by singing the Beatles’ “Blackbird,” accompanying herself on guitar. The girl’s got guts.

One of my best friends and I have a gift-swapping ritual for birthdays and holidays that makes particular sense this year: We don't get each other presents. We might take turns getting a martini, but the charity ends there. If this isn't an option for you, and some loathsome acquaintance has shoved a Keurig down your stocking when you were perfectly content with your Mr. Coffee, then look no further than these beach towels as kind-hearted retribution. They're the perfect gift to give someone in lieu of actually saying, "Here's a gift to remind you of that trip to Puerto Vallarta you were planning before the economy tanked."

My iPhone died Saturday. Just gave up the ghost. I was off the grid, running wild, untethered and far off the rez. Strange territory. The initial shock wore off as my third gimlet kicked in. It was nice. I forgot about work, texts, emails, and calls. Then around dawn, with snow falling, a fire blazing, and surrounded by good old friends, I realized that I was fucked. I made a call. Arranged a 9 a.m. appointment at the Apple store in Stamford, CT. Didn't quite make that one. So, a day later, with shaking hands but somewhat more clear-headed, I walked into another Apple store. I forgot how the store's interior design is so weird and upsetting. It's like a after-hours club in Berlin. Too bright. And not at all fun unless you're on good clean sassafras ecstasy or a chilly split of Veuve Clicquot (neither of which were in the cards).

Perhaps she couldn't fight the hypnotic allure of Tom Cruise's unpatched eye -- she certainly wouldn't be the first -- but Victoria Beckham was finally starting to seem likable. Yesterday, she even went so far as to demonstrate humor belying her robotic countenance, telling The Times, "Honestly, I could have crawled on stage and died at that point and no one would have taken any notice," when probed about her lack of solos in the Spice Girls' first single.

● Rumor has it that Si Newhouse is in Paris having final talks with Carine Roitfeld to take over American Vogue. Looks like Wintour's life is taking a page from The Devil Wears Prada. If true, wouldn't that be life imitating art, imitating life. [Gawker]
● Liked Carrie Bradshaw's Vivienne Westwood wedding dress from the Sex and the City movie? Well, Gabriella Risatti is making knock-offs -- I mean, "reproductions" -- of the dress today and tomorrow for $15,000. [NYP]
● Just in time for your recessional Christmas, Louis Vuitton is paying homage to Stephen Sprouse by releasing a limited edition of his highly successful graffiti collection. [WWD]