JAIME FELBER
Jaime Felber: Hi Amanda, thank you for sitting down with me. I’m excited to discuss Gilt, and the mad fashion world that it has built up over the past two years. From what I understand, you were one of the first employees to be hired at Gilt Groupe?
Amanda Graber: Yes, I was number ten
JF: And it’s now at how many?
Did you ever see the movie Bad Santa? The one where Billy Bob Thornton has a penchant for sodomy and plus-sized women? Well, that’s not really anything to do with this article, I just happen to think it’s an amazing movie…
On December 12th, Santacon is descending on New York City. What is SantaCon you ask? It’s a not-for-profit, non-political, non-religious & non-logical Santa Claus convention, attended for absolutely no reason.
Censorship in the land of wine, cheese, baguettes, berets, and great military prestige (that last bit is a lie, I’m sorry) is clearly influencing the legal system here in New York.
The French government is much more liberal with what they feel the general public is able to see and accept; granted this is hardly surprising with President Nicholas "bling bling" Sarkozy at the helm. Advertising campaigns have much more freedom to express themselves, and the French as a nation are more open about their bodies – topless bathing is not only accepted, it is promoted. However, sadly, the same is true for going ‘au naturel.' I leave that to your imagination.
When I first moved into New York, I was trying to not live like a tourist, or a hated member of the B&T crowd (not saying the whole B&T crowd is hated, but you all know who you are. Grow up, behave yourselves). So I ate at local restaurants in my neighborhood, always vowing to do my best to never go to the same place twice until I had really gotten a taste for the neighborhood. So I did that. And for the first two weeks, everything I had came with fries - even the fries seemed to come with fries. Then I made an effort to move away from that trend, which was hard – American diets may be varied, but fries seem to be the New Yorkers’ lifesource. I branched out, and found myself immersed in Mexican food. There are so many Mexican restaurants in this city, and, as curry is to the English, Mexican seems to be the staple ‘not sure what you’re in the mood for? Let’s get Mexican’ culinary experience. I never want to see another burrito, or chimichanga, or quesadilla for a long time.
Ever wanted to get down-n-dirty between the sheets with ET? No? Just me…? Okay… But I bet you want to know how he made his finger glow like that under that sheet…
Well I don’t have an answer for you.
What I do have is far more important. Just hold tight, and let me unveil to you Luminiglow. Here now, along with Victoria Bitter, Nimbin, and the Surfers Paradise Meter Maids is Australia’s latest justification as to why life is just so much better ‘Down-Under’.
That’s it. I’ve had it with Grubstreet. They’re all pretentious fools over there. This time they’ve really gone too far, and I won’t stand for it.
Jenny Miller is bearing the brunt of my aggression today, and unfortunately its because she upholds journalistic integrity. The other day on grubstreet, miss Miller wrote about a bar so secret, that the owners don’t even want the address getting out. Sort of like Milk & Honey in a way? Except everybody knows where that is now…
As the new end-of-the-world-in-a-really-cataclysmic-way-except-maybe-the-average-superhero-dad-guy-who-can-save-a-few-of-us movie 2012 comes out in theaters, I pose the question: What do we actually know about the Mayans? And can their calendar be correct?
The Maya are, or rather, were a Pre-Columbian civilization, who rose to the peak of their existence during the Classic Period of 250-900AD. They were most well-known for their advanced skills in architecture, mathematics and astronomy. Nowadays their descendants make up much of the Central American population, including the people of Honduras, Guatemala, El Salvador and even Mexico.
I am proud of where I live, and having lived there for a grand total of six weeks, I feel it is my privilege, nay, my responsibility, to report some comings and goings that are occurring. This is not a gossip piece, so much as a ‘heads up.’ In the heart of the East Village, where trendy just gets trendier, there is more to be excited about.
I never realized when I first moved in to my new apartment, just what kind of neighborhood I was getting myself involved with, and now that I’ve been living there a grand total of six weeks, I feel a veritable local, and am assuming the responsibility of showing off that I live in a cooler part of the city than you. That, and I want to draw attention to some new developments happening on 7th Street.
I am an Englishman. I am an Englishman who likes his food. Therefore I am in a perfect position to discuss something very important to me: The English Breakfast.
The English Breakfast is the cornerstone of British society. Wars have been fought as a result of it. General Bernard Montgomery requested a full English every day he was planning the Normandy invasions during World War II. It’s said that Oliver Cromwell became very specific about how his black pudding was to be cooked while he was spear-heading the English Civil War. When Mary Shelley, John Polidori and Lord Byron retired to their country manor for a weekend of ghost stories (resulting in The Vampyre and Frankenstein), they had culinary chefs prepare a smorgasbord of full English Breakfast trimmings.
When wandering around the East Village, one might see a lot of bizarre things. However, I will admit that I did not expect to run into a cow. And now that we’re entering the dark days of winter; the last thing I expected was that this cow would be sunburnt. However, that is exactly what happened last week, when I discovered this antipodean hide-out on the corner of 9th and Avenue C. Now, before we discuss this situation further, I have a confession: I am guilty of being one of those people that I invariably hate – the ones who hear an accent, find out where the accent originates, and then proceed to try and relate to that person by offering up the one small anecdote I have on wherever they may be from. I had to refrain from doing that this time when I met Pete, the friendly and remarkably well-known Kiwi bartender at the Sunburnt Cow.
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