As a BBC Radio 1 presenter and DJ, Annie Mac is definitely a household name within the UK. After all, across the pond she’s considered the new voice of dance music due to her show Annie Mac’s Mash Up. Annie recently took over the legendary reins of Pete Tong’s famous Friday night slot on Radio 1 -- traditionally kicking off the weekend for those Brits to let loose. This past month, she came over to North America for a small club tour, stopping through New York City, of course. We caught up with Annie at the Tribeca Grand before her 2am DJ gig downstairs in the hotel’s subterranean dance den.

Tiffany Gong and Christina Rodriguez are fashion freelancers and jewelry designers for their line, Triskaidekaphobia (which means fear of the number 13) by day and the Six Six Sick girls by night. After hosting a Tuesday night party at New York’s Happy Ending bar, the girls started a following full of fashion panache and eccentric party-goers. Their current gigs include heading up private events and weekly parties at the Tribeca Grand and Webster Hall, BEast . They'll be throwing a Chictopia fashion week event at BEast this evening, and will have a night at Butter starting Friday, September 25th.

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way -- in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only. -- Charles Dickens

Dickens said it better than a knave like me could ever dream to. On one hand is the young beautiful doorgirl with the freshest of looks and perspectives and dreams and hopes -- an it girl thrust into the center of the new downtown. On the other hand, a tragic tale of the last moments of a man loved by all. A talent that reached for the heavens where he surely now resides. We'll start with the sad story of DJ AM, then let the story of Kendra Martyn speak of new horizons.

It’s the time of year when you want to cram in any summery thing you can, so you don’t feel bad about not taking advantage when things turn cold. Hanging out in backyards, for example. Astorians have a great one at neighborhood favorite Hell Gate Social. It’s big and chill and elevated for your architectural pleasure. Owner George Rallis, who’s logged time in the kitchens at Blue Fin and the Tribeca Grand, also lays out a killer Sunday barbecue. For those who can’t make the Astoria run, Rallis sends along a recipe for a refreshing end-of-summer lemon cocktail. Tequila and vodka. Genius.

Tom Dunkley and Alejandro Torio of GBH have established their brand over a dozen years by consistently producing a party which pushes the envelope of music to a hip, interesting, and interested crowd. They aren't promoters supporting a night at a club but directors who create a weekly event. Their Saturdays at the Tribeca Grand sink the great lie that there is nothing to do in this town. Nightlife is as vibrant and relevant as ever -- it just doesn't live in one space every night. There may not be a true great club at this time, but there are great parties every single night of the week. For instance, tonight I am visiting Emma Cleary at her "Don't Feed the Models Party" at Katra, James Coppola's "Cool Jerk" soiree at Sin Sin, Mey Bun's birthday bash, "Monarch Mondays" at Above Allen, and then to the Jane for Greg Lucas' birthday gathering. I may even stop at the still fabulous Butter to say hey to the fast-lane crowd.

Tommy Saleh, creative director for New York's Soho Grand and Tribeca Grand hotels, is the mellow curator of coolness who's been keeping both downtown institutions grand since they opened in 1996 and 2000, respectively. With a keen eye for talent, the soft-spoken, Egyptian-born Saleh consistently hosts the most groundbreaking musicians, artists, and scene-making cultural figures at his twin lairs. If you run into Saleh at a party in New York or LA or Istanbul or Marrakesh or London -- you know you're in the right place.

As the economy recovers and money becomes available, places that were long ago shuttered or recently deceased prepare for rebirth. Restaurants lay around like old chairs and sofas covered with white sheets like in an old horror flick. The biggest prize in my eyes is Plumm, that ripe spot on 14th Street with a ton of tradition. Nell Campbell had her infamous joint Nell's there back in the day. It became famous for charging everybody -- and I mean everybody -- door admission. Cher refused, got turned away, and the little gimmick turned the place into a hit overnight. In later years, I would go and listen to jazz bands and eat good food before the mayhem of the dance halls. Noel Ashman took the joint over and called it NA. Some said it meant "Nell's Again," but most thought it was a tribute to his own dapper self. Noel eventually closed NA and transformed it into Plumm, with a gaggle of celebrity investors including Chris Noth, Damon Dash, Samantha Ronson, etc. Plumm proved to be a bitter fruit, never really catching on with a crowd that spent enough money to pay the rent.

So you want to run into a model. Or ten. Here's your guide to which hotels to stalk for the next week:

1. The Bowery Hotel (East Village) - Corpus is showing here, and there should be a bunch of parties here as well.
2. Plaza Hotel (Midtown West) - With Luca Luca, Monique Lhuiller, and Douglas Hannant, this is a safe bet to catch some fashion royalty.
3. Jane Hotel (West Village) - Cynthia Rowley is showing in the Ballroom. Hopefully the residents won't protest the show.

There's a huge segment of people that aren't going to give a shit which way the wind blows come Sunday's Super Bowl: anyone who isn't a Cardinals fan (they have fans that aren't Will Leitch?), anyone who isn't a Steelers fan (they have fans that aren't Obama?), anyone who doesn't watch football, anyone who doesn't have money on these games, anyone who doesn't understand football, anybody who'd rather be having brunch at Balthazar, and ... essentially, much of New York. Yet, because New Yorkers are trained monkeys who invest in rituals -- or because they don't want to spend Sunday afternoon alone -- they're going to have to make their way out of the apartment at some point to get some Super Bowl action in. That being said, if you've got to go, go right -- here, we present our favorite places to "watch" the Super Bowl that aren't insufferable sports bars.

Fashion Week, as you may already know, is that special time of fall in New York when good friends gather to swap tales of summer fun in faraway places, amuse ourselves with skinny immigrant girls playing dress-up, drink our way through open bars, fight blonde Penn grads with powerful clipboards, and nonchalantly mention how lame the Marc Jacobs after-party was the next day. Great fun, say you? Of course. But lately, there’s been some grumbling from the normally exuberant party peoples who make the fashion magic happen. Stories of jaded fashion scenesters glumly sipping Vodka-of-the-Week & Sodas at drab lounges, whispers of widespread discontent at the tents -- a general sourness has befallen the festivities.