Who would have imagined that Malan Breton, a former contestant on season 3 of Project Runway, would come so far as a distinguished designer? Perhaps not even Malan himself. The 36-year-old fashion aficionado has taken his theatrical roots and tied (or shall we say, sewn) them into his collections, bringing a wistful and exquisite approach to his designs. A Malan Breton show exhibits live orchestra and ballet performances, a welcome change from the DJ-pumping, techno-blasting, glitter-flying shows-on-steroids of today. By stitching classiness and weaving sophistication into his designs, Malan makes couture that fits real women (and now men too)!

Hotelier and New Jersey advocate, Curtis Bashaw, has both his business and heart invested in the Jersey Shore. Between family ties, a former position on New Jersey's Casino Reinvestment Development Authority, and small hotel restoration projects along the Jersey Shore area, the hotelier, who opened Atlantic City's first non-gambling, boutique property, the Chelsea Hotel, along the city's famed boardwalk, can proudly say that he's "definitely a Jersey guy."

So, are restaurants really the new nightclubs? Check out these multitasking contenders.

● Minetta Tavern (Greenwich Village) - A night at Minetta, complete with Barry Diller, Diane Von Furstenberg, and Harvey Keitel sightings, spawned this thesis. Your visit will confirm all the copious booze, packed interiors, and loud soundtracks of a nightclub, but you’ll also be served top brasserie eats.
● Hotel Griffou (Greenwich Village) - Stealth-posh scene-stealer serves up vintage dishes, but the elaborate array of intimate rooms is just as big a draw. Big enough to draw Leo, Chloe, and Kanye, among a glut of bold-faced names.
● Monkey Bar (Midtown East) - Graydon Carter's latest monkeyshines lays down a hierarchical supper club scene, with banquettes for the literary elite and tables in the pit for you. Oysters named for Rockefeller, meatloaf named for Ephron. But it’s all about the scene.

Larry Poston officially opened the West Village resto Hotel Griffou with business partner Johnny Swet on July 1. Poston made his name in New York restaurant circles as a manager at Pastis and the Waverly Inn, and Swet gained his hospitality know-how at Balthazar and Freemans. Most recently occupying the 9th Street space was notorious speakeasy Marylou’s, but the name of the new joint is after the original, French 1870s occupants. The modern dining rooms are themed as a salon, library, and artist's studio with a French-inspired classic cuisine menu. Poston gives us an inside look at the new spot.

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:

WALL STREET DUDE
So, what do you think is hot these days in nightlife?
Minetta Tavern.

At the tastefully burnished 1Oak, four vastly different drivers are at the wheel. Richie Akiva, Jeffrey Jah, Ronnie Madra, and Scott Sartiano, partners in the timeless, game-changing venue. “You have a southern boy here, a bred New Yorker, a Canadian and an Indian” says Akiva, one quarter of the 1Oak braintrust. The diversity of its management has proven to be key in building 1Oak’s wide-ranging clientele. “We wanted 1Oak to bring nightlife back to what was fun about New York” he says. “An eclectic mix of people -- gay, straight, artists, celebrities, yuppies, blacks, whites.” The result? A $3 million lounge filled with everyone from Jay-Z to Giorgio Armani to Union Square skateboarders, and happily turning a huge profit. “The fact is,” says Sartiano, “we’ve paid back 110% of our investments in one year.” Avowing that culture could never be wiped out by a weakened Wall Street, Akiva harkens back to the disco era: “I sometimes refer to myself as the new Steve Rubell.” Here, the gentlemen talk the talk to shed light on how they walk the walk.

How did you guys all come together?
Scott Sartiano: I think we all met and we all came together working at the same place -- called Life -- years ago. It was maybe the last great nightclub. We all just sort of kept tabs on each other for years. Then Richie decided to open up Butter, and he asked me to get involved with him. Then we asked Ronnie to get involved, and it just kind of grew from there.
Richie Akiva: It was a good working relationship that we had together. I had asked him to start something on a Monday night, because that was our slow restaurant night. I told them, "I think should really start a party," different from all of this stuff that was going on in New York City that was just like, way commercial.

Stacey Bendet Eisner is a woman of her own design. Deciding to forgo the Wall Street path early on, she entered the fashion world, becoming her own CEO, and after blazing the way for super original multi-colored jeans, earned her "StaceyPants" nickname. A mother to Eloise, wife to producer Eric Eisner, and often times a convivial hostess, the pint-sized powerhouse designer behind Alice + Olivia makes her work part of her life, and her life part of her work. Here she talks about her new ventures, her bi-coastal tendencies, and her love of Big Macs.

What are you doing in LA right now?
Well, I’m out here the last week of each month. We have two shops here. We just opened a store out in Malibu but right now I’m actually on my way over to my store on Robertson.

The man who makes up the other half of Tenjune, on the opening of the Chandelier Room at the W Hotel in Hoboken tonight, his icons, and why New York's Meatpacking District is still the center of clubdom.

What's the story with the opening event for the Chandelier Room?
It’s tonight, 7 till midnight. The full facility will be open for all to see, even though the W has been open and operational for about a month. There will be a full red carpet outside and several live performances. There's a piano bar in the lobby -- very Frank Sinatra. There will be a lounge singer and a woman singing on the piano, like in The Fabulous Baker Boys. DJ Cassidy will be spinning. The Chandelier Room will be open inside, including the ballroom and outside. The Living Room Bar will host our surprise performer.

“I want his fucking ass! I want your fucking ass!” These imperative, pornographic commands from “April,” a characteristically maverick song off A Woman A Man Walked By, the anticipated new collaborative album by PJ Harvey and John Parish, evoke nothing so much as Marlon Brando’s improvised dialogue in Last Tango in Paris as rendered by the Jesus Lizard. Hurtling out of the speakers, Harvey’s uncanny, decidedly masculine bark relays the aggression and growling timbre of a sexual thug.

As a self-respecting woman -- or, for that matter, a New Yorker (one who, naturally, is trying to stand her fiscal ground in these tough economic times) -- I’m the first to say that eating disorders are unattractive on a physical, medical, and emotional level. However: this is The Big City, sweetie, and sometimes a girl’s got to stop, look around at all the gorgeous people surrounding her, and put down the pomme-frites, possibly followed by a pull-the-trigger trip to the commode. That being said, everyone loves going out to dinner here, and does it often. It’s an unavoidable part of our culture, and a way for us to leave behind the nightmares of work and stress in place of good conversation, good friends, and a stomach/liver satisfied with food/tasty libations (the ones we keep down). So here's a time-tested list of ten places where I’ve had a thrill without eating anything, where Shaq-sized Amazon beauties are found sipping glasses of champagne or drowning their hunger with empty vodka calories.