VINTAGE LIGHTER CUFFLINKS
Adding ‘pe’ onto words is unnecessary. It’s also cool. I like it. I’m going to start doing it. Adding one ‘pe’ onto another ‘pe’ is even cooler. Therefore, from this complex equation we can establish one thing. Kevin O’Connell is very cool guy. He is the man behind mid-town's Pop Burger, and who, back in February of last year, brought Burger Shoppe to the Financial District with great success. Following his lead are the also very cool Christopher and Heather Tierney, with Workshoppe. Taking over the space above O'Connell's old-Philadelphia-style diner, the Tierney's and their team have come up with the future of office space.
The stage is set, the players are in position, all that remains is for the curtain to go up on the first ever Manhattan Cocktail Classic, to be held this weekend at venues across the city.
The event has been organized to celebrate the life and times of the classic form of the cocktail, from its insemination in the early 1800's to its place in contemporary society. Coming together for the weekend are an astounding ensemble of pioneers and icons in the bar world, from Dale 'King Cocktail' Degroff, Sasha Petraske (of elusive, exclusive and down-right enviable Milk & Honey fame), and Doug Frost - one of only three people in the world to complete the Master Sommelier's course and become America's Master of Wine.
I am fortunate to have a very close friend who has been prominent in the night club scene in London for many years now. Through him, as we grew up together, I got to discover a world that not many people get to see. I saw how the nightclubs ran, what it took to make them successful, I saw the glamour, and the grime behind them. I met some very odd, very scary, and very successful people. While we may all think we could run a successful night spot, there’s a reason why so few last, and even fewer are worth mentioning.
This past week, in conjunction with Mirrorball and Perrier, plans have been put into motion to create an online Nightlife Hall of Fame. The committee that has been assembled to choose the nominees for the first round of entrants is as impressive a repertoire of talents as any possible nominations. Sadly, there names will mean nothing to any but a select few people. Carmen d’Alessio, possibly the most successful party thrower and party goer of her generation is on the committee, along with Steve Lewis (manager of the Limelight in its hey-day and today's final world on all things nightlife), Nikki Camp, and a handful of other names that you won’t remember.
I guess you could say I am a creature of habit. I get into the office, swearing it’s going to be a quiet day, followed by a quiet evening. Then the first thing that happens is I read about Superdive’s new Tuesday night extravaganza, and the next thing I know, it’s Wednesday, I’m hung over, and I want a quiet day followed by a quiet night. I don’t want to even think about bars. I don’t want to go out drinking. I mean it…
Then someone comes up to me and whispers ‘Simyone is open’, and something inside of me dies. How can I possibly resist the newest addition to Abe & Arthur's already opulent environment? When everybody else in the Meat Packing District is going vertical (Boom Boom Room, Plunge), evil genius and site owner Eugene Remm knows that the basement is where all the bad things come to life. Carpeted staircases descend into a dark world of decadence, with mirrored bricks, eclectic art work, and truly, truly beautiful staff. If the address of 409 W 14th seems familiar to you, it’s because Lotus used to hold court here. Gone are the days of heady thumping music and over-packed crowds where you might, if your lucky, see someone who may or may not have been Paris Hilton. Simyone classifies itself as a lounge bar - with cave-like back rooms and little dark corners – but there is a suitably sized dance floor to dance to the poignantly remixed MJ tributes….
Tomorrow, I will have a quiet night in… maybe…
Have you ever been to the gym and seen those guys with the guts that have hardened from years of over-indulgence? The ones that have a bowling ball underneath that t-shirt, but it looks like it’s made of rock and will never, ever go away? Ever stood there and thought ‘God I hope that’s not me in 20 years time?’
The FitBit is today’s latest gadget to remind you to stay in shape. Slim, sleek and subtly designed, the FitBit can slip into a pocket, or attach to any item of clothing, all the while being easily mistakable for a new phone. Based on the same motion system as the Nintendo Wii©, the FitBit tracks your daily motion, and even your sleeping pattern. From these readings, the FitBit can then give you a day-by-day, step-by-step breakdown of your exercise patterns, how many miles you walked, how many hours a day you were in light exercise, heavy exercise, etc. Cleverly, it comes with its own docking station. Walk within 15 feet of the station, once a week, and all your data is instantly uploaded for you to review.
Male view: Standing on the subway, it’s packed full of businessmen on their way to work, but my inherent style and the cut of my suit separate me from all the others. There’s a cute girl in casual clothes, reading a copy of Frankenstein half-way down the car. I give her an appraising look. She looks up from her book and catches my eye. Instant connection. She clearly likes the look of me. Then the train lurches to a halt, and in a daze, I realize it’s my stop. Shame for her, she’s missing out…
Female view: I’ve got a class first thing this morning on Romantic Literature. I’ve got to remember a few points to use in my presentation. I’ll just skim through the notes I made on Frankenstein. The feeling of eyes burning into my back make me look up. Half way down this crowded, cologne ridden carriage, some guy is checking me out. He has this creepy look on his face, like he’s already seeing me naked. Disgusting. He holds my gaze, and then gets off at the next stop. Weird.
Not since Tucker Max brought forth his stories of debauchery, assholish behavior and general malaise as a human being has something interested me as quickly as champagne Tuesdays. I don’t know where to begin. My initial reaction to the name was ‘don't give a shit, I don’t want to spend my evening around people buying bottles of champagne and acting pretentious.’ Then they added the word 'limitless,' and I started to listen. Then they told me it was at Superdive, a massively low-key, yet incredibly cool Lower East Side bar known for its ‘keg service,’ and I started to lean in. Then two things happened at once. As they (and they seem to talk a lot, don’t they?) mentioned that not only was this champagne limitless (for $20), but it was to be sabred at your table, and served by a ‘small-person’ named Nicholas, dressed in a pirates outfit who wheels said champagne about in a big bathtub; my brain melted, and I defecated myself. Awkward in an office full of people, but I think Tucker Max would understand.
I am definitely a product of a warped and twisted generation. In much the same way that Joe Orton and Noel Coward were lauded for smashing sexual taboos in theatres during the 50’s and 60’s, Darren Lynn Bousman (of Saw fame) and Eli Roth (writer and producer of Hostel) took horror to a new level this decade. Dubbed as ‘gorenography’ – or sexually tuned gratuitous violence, the emergence of such movies has brought ‘shocking’ back to a jaded youth, and this writer welcomes it with bloodied wrists.
Ever since Lars Ulrich took up residence as the figurehead of the fight against Napster back in 2000, there has been a battle waging between musicians and fans that download their music for free.
Now the battlefield looks like this; the governments on one side, and the Featured Artists Coalition (FAC) on the other. The war’s latest casualty is British pop ‘star’ Lily Allen, who has (not for the first time) threatened to quit the music industry as a result of illegal downloading of her music. After joining forces with British government minister Lord Mandelson, who is spear-heading the government campaign to tackle the illegal downloading problem, Allen has faced mixed reactions of abuse and support for her decisions. Her blog, which over the years has been considered honest and somewhat self deprecating, has recently been taken down as a result of all the attention.
The scene is set: It is a cool evening, as you stand outside the ballroom of your latest black tie banquet. The stars peek through the sparse layer of clouds, and the night air is chilly, so you gallantly remove your jacket, placing it over the shoulders of the lady who joins you. Then you reach into your pocket and pull out the sterling silver monogrammed cigarette case, with your favorite gold tipped Sobranie cigarettes. You offer the lady one, and she takes one gratefully, thanking you. Everything else has been leading up to this moment. You lean forward to light her cigarette, and with a deft snap of your fingers, your cufflink, styled after the classic Dunhill lighters, bursts into flame. You can see the surprise in her eyes, but she maintains her composure, as the end of her cigarette glows red. You proceed to light your own, before deftly blowing out the lighter, and exhaling smoke that dissipates slowly in the night air. No words have been spoken, but that one look she gave you tells you all you need to know.
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