Fashion Week

Last Thursday night I got invited to attend the Out Magazine Fashion Week Kickoff Party which was thrown obviously by Out Magazine along with Perry Ellis who surprisingly makes more than crap underwear.  Who knew !  Stoli was providing the free flowing booze and the party was rocking until about 9:30 in some weird warehouse space west of 11th avenue.  haha, it was a totally hot space.  Next store however, at some hot Chelsea art gallery, the party was much more rocking, even past 9:30, but I wasn't invited there.  So I have never been to anything involved with Fashion Week or any A-list party before and I have to say one thing, "Exclusiveness isn't that hot actually."  Or at least I wasn't blown away by a private fashion week party.  It just leads people to believe that they are fantastic and better than everyone else further preventing them from smiling and or talking to anyone else.  I do have to admit that there were some SERIOUSLY hot boys/models/jocks hanging around the party but I really only noticed them walking in since once I was inside I was incredibly distracted by the stud boy I was with.  I am not going to write about it much, mainly since I don't know if he even knows I have this site but also because I don't want to jinx anything, yet.  But the evening ended with some unbelievably heavy kissing/petting (haha) on a bench outside of a bakery where some hot woman professional photographer took our photos.  Those might be posted here once I receive them from her.

Friday night I was in charge of planning a night out with the "boy" and I ended up choosing an off-Broadway play titled Suburbia because it had Kieran Culkin in it.  He was the main star of the movie Igby Goes Down, one of the "boys" favorites.  I thought the whole ad featuring the tattooed boy was enough of a reason to see it since I walk by the theater nearly every day and then once I heard "sex, tattooes, drugs, porn, violence, and disfunction," I was sold.  It was a pretty good show until about 3/4 of the way through it and then something just went terribly wrong.  Everything just tanked beyond belief.  All story lines, character developments, metaphors on the world, plot lines, nearly all key issues quickly just went sour.  You could almost hear "Abandon Ship," sadly.  Afterwards we headed to grab a quick bite to eat at a sushi place near Madison Park and underneath the unbelievably pink Credit-Suisse bank tower.  I have no recollection of the restaurants name because afterwards I was thrown into the Urge (an East Village bar) and handed vodka on the rocks, two of them.  Needless to say I was out of it (there was a moment with the boy in an abandoned lot off Avenue A where, well, he gave head) until I sobered up on my subway ride back home at around 2.

Saturday night I ended up pretty much chilling around my neighborhood because my 4 hour shoot in the 90 degree sun with my friend Joe (some of the great pics were previously posted) exhausted me.  I met up with H and headed to Therapy for two cocktails and scoping out the post-Labor day scene, which I have to admit is a HUGE improvement.  lol.  Afterwards I had one of the sluttiest (and not like raunchy fun outside in an alley slutty, I mean SLUTTY) sexual moments of my life.  I am again nearly drunk though sobering up from the gross pizza I ate on the walk home so I decide to cruise Manhunt, and within twenty minutes the most perfect boy with an amazing dick, Latin 24yo perfect with abs and the perfectly toned gym body, came over to get sucked off, jerk me off, and leave.  It was honestly the right amount of time.

The following day, Sunday morning, I headed down to a cafe near Astor Place and starting reading the book titled The Perfectionist, about the French superstar chef who committed suicide Bernard Louiseau.  I am now addicted to it.  I am also becoming more of a monster with the Michelin guide especially after the chapter in the book giving me the history of the company and the book.  It was a beautiful late summer morning where there was a slight nip in the air and the foam on my cafe au lait along with the well landscaped area made me feel like I was in Paris.  "Boy" met me and we wandered around the East Village getting a personal tour from someone who has lived here his entire life.  It was a lot of fun.  We stopped into Bourgeois Pig Cafe which is a super cute, very funky, drink place that serves coffee and cocktails in a setting that one could only find in NYC.  It pretty much looks like you fell off 2nd Avenue into Marie Antoinette's back room.  Huge palatial chairs, sofas, an amazing tin  wall and ceiling and some weird funk music pumping.  And there was a huge pen window to look out into the street and watch the people pass by.  Somewhere before or after the cafe, we walked by this East Village garden where the people who pay to use the garden piled up a serious amount of junk to make this sculpture/pile of crap.  I couldn't help myself from taking a photo.  It was pretty cool from far away (this photo) but then once you got closer to the heap, you started noticing plastic Santas, an incredibly amount of scary horses, random plastic toys and god knows what else.   I do think I saw the Virgin Mary as well.  We arrived back where we met and hopped on his bright blue Italian Vespa (the scooter) and I have to admit I was nearly in love right there.  A scooter ride around Manhattan wrapped around a boy on a beautiful late Summer day reminiscent of an Italian movie, nearly nauseated me but besides that, it was an incredible time.  I want one.  Fast forward to Sunday night (for no particular reason, haha :P ) and I ended up meeting one of my friends (one of the few I have stayed in touch with) from high school.  It was pretty entertaining but only because our lives are soooooooooo incredibly different.  Like, I don't think they could be anymore opposite.  We did have a pretty good Italian dinner (and mousse) on 9th Avenue before hitting up this straight dive bar where GIRLS were screaming at the TV's which nearly plastered the walls because some (get this) football game was on.  Isn't it a little early for football? 

Stay Tuned to hear about Avenue Q, the show I saw Tuesday night, and DB Bistro Modern (Daniel Bouley's Bistro).  I wanted to wrap this all into one but I feel like I should post this before it turns out to be a week old and then I just look bad.  lol, yah.. a wild week.  And it isn't stopping.  I have plans every night until next Tuesday.  And that is life in Manhattan.

 

Comments

[Jewlust]

Hey! Hey! Ho! Ho! That rolled bandana has got to go!