Tag Archives: New York
Nolita on a Winter Sunday
Fashion and materialism are often considered interchangeable concepts. The look on the streets, however, indicates a sea change. Even in pricey Nolita, fashion is no longer reliant on expensive It bags, but a non-conformist hodgepodge of different looks, many of them recycled from years past.
80’s style sneakers and a beat-up bomber jacket.
Accessorizing with headphones, and more 80’s style sneakers.
Mick Jagger hair and Converse sneakers – also popular last year, and the year before – they’re still good.
This girl’s look really popped. A combination of the hair, the mini, the long scarf, and the motorcycle jacket.
A very individualistic style – outsized pageboy cap mixed with skinny jeans and battered cowboy boots, a trend of three years ago that still looks good when mixed in with the new.
Clashing reds and another pageboy cap, another trend with a long life span.
Striped black and white scarves were popular.
Though it was Louis Vuitton that put knit berets on the runways for fall 2007, no one designer owns the trend now. On the corner of Prince and Mott.
Colors that pop – a nice harbinger of spring.
(Faux?) fur coat mixed with sneakers.
Guys in toggle coats.
The fedora was most noticeable, but the mix of gray and ruddy brown is nice too.
Clothing takes on a sculptural aspect.
More sculptural clothing in an avant-garde look mixed with Doc Martens.
Colors that pop.
The urban Ralph Lauren look?
Momofuku Ssäm Bar, Take Two
It was pouring. Pouring the horizontally slanting kind of rain, seemingly specific to urban areas, that renders umbrellas useless. Hands Honson and I stood in the glassed in vestibule of a nearby restaurant, arguing about where to eat.
“They don’t have soup.” He stared at the menu. “I thought you said they had soup.”
Earlier, he had made one of the most frustrating requests a food writer can hear, the demand for “something light.” What does this mean? Something light Thai? Something light Korean? Next someone will be asking me to recommend an entirely carb-free restaurant. I say: just order appropriately.
But Hands was having none of it. There was no soup. There was a wait of 15 minutes for a seat. (A mere 15 minutes!) What about sushi? The day after a four day Christmas weekend? You’ve got to be kidding me. Never mind that this menu listed a wide selection of raw fish. For some reason, to Hands, that didn’t count as “sushi.”
A guy who was leaving picked up on the argument. “Get the hanger steak.”
“Listen,” I said to Hands. “This place just got named the best new restaurant in 2007 in today’s Times. If we don’t eat here tonight, right away, we’re never going to be able to eat here again.”
Hands relented, crankily. Crank, crank, crank, until the first course at Momofuku Ssäm Bar landed. And then, my very own Christmas miracle: as soon as the food touched his lips, he shut up. There was absolutely nothing left to complain about.
Momofuku Ssäm Bar was one of the first restaurants reviewed on this site, back when they were just a burrito joint. Like many others around the city, I was willing to follow those steamed pork buns around the city with religious zeal. On this night, the place was full and buzzing, the food was excellent, and the music was hopping. It was enough to make even a cynic burned out from the holidays suddenly love New York.
The pork buns are still here, though they are joined by a host of new options. We started with the cured hamachi with edamame, horseradish, and pea leaves. Even on the day after Christmas, Momofuku’s fish was silky, with a clean, pure taste that wasn’t overwhelmed by the relatively mild horseradish spread. All the flavors sparkled, even something as tiny as a pea leaf.
The “bread & butter” was Hands’ spartan choice of an appetizer, though what arrived on the table was decadent.
“I think this is the best bread and butter I’ve ever had in my life.”
Hands agreed. The mini (sourdough?) baguette arrived piping hot – perhaps even freshly baked if Momofuku parbakes their bread. Savory goat’s butter was rich and tangy, and the sea salt butter contained a superior sea salt like the “Flower of the Ocean” brand that’s harvested from northwestern France.
Shockingly, the steamed pork buns have gotten even better with time. I didn’t think this was possible. Momofuku’s pork belly, now widely imitated, is still the torch bearer for this cut of meat – nowhere else have I encountered it prepared so perfectly. And the hoisin sauce must still be made with crack because of the sudden bliss it induces. Or at least star anise – there’s a complicated dance of spices going on in the mix.
Throwing caution to the wind, I ordered raw diver sea scallops from Maine. The chef working behind the bar sliced them thin, then garnished the scallops with tiny, crackly bits of deep fried seaweed sprinkled atop like maritime lardons. Bordering them was an inventive side of pickled cherries, which could open up a new chapter in the salty-sweet trend – sweet and sour.
As advised, we got the hanger steak ssäm, which was basically bulgogi taken up several notches in deliciousness. The choice of hanger steak for this dish seemed perfectly in keeping with Momofuku’s style – nothing too fancy, just keeping it real. But when all of the parts are expertly chosen and prepared, the whole adds up to something amazing.
We didn’t order the crispy pig’s head torchon that has gotten so much press, but for the record, here’s what it is. They take a pig’s head and braise it with vegetables and herbs, scoop up the pig head guts that float to the surface, make them into a sausage, cook it and slice it. Yummers. I chalked that one up to “next time.”
Though David Chang has gotten the lion’s share of praise from the press, the culinary invention at Momofuku seems to be very much a group effort. An unnamed pastry chef contributed a fantastic “peanut butter and jelly” dessert that was layers of homemade grape jelly, a gourmet nutter-butter like crispy wafer, and saltine ice cream. And as one person quipped when I naively asked if Chang was in the kitchen now, “He’s not f-ing cooking!”
Hilarious, but true. In our celebrity-chef-worshiping culture, you’ve gotta remember the little guys. They might grow up to be the next David Chang.
Momofuku Ssäm Bar
207 Second Avenue
at 13th Street
212-254-3500
Posted in East Village, food, Korean, New York restaurants, restaurants
Tagged David Chang, New York, sushi
1 Comment
dell’anima
Another restaurant on the must-hit list this winter is dell’anima. The brainchild of chef Gabriel Thompson, formerly of Del Posto and Le Bernardin, and manager Joe Campanale, once the sommelier at Babbo, dell’anima is one of the most promising new restaurants in NYC.
I found Del Posto to be a little too mega-Artie’s (degli Sopranos). In this smaller setting, Thompson seems to be in his element. In fact, he is one of the star attractions. Working in an entirely open kitchen towards the back of the restaurant, the handsome young chef in an FDNY baseball cap drew a peanut gallery of attractive female admirers. Hate to break it to you ladies, but Gabe the Babe has a girlfriend, alas.
Beyond the open kitchen, the restaurant design is deceptively simple. Walls and ceiling are sculpted from plaster set with corrugated metal, creating an arched, ridged effect that would feel industrial were it not painted a vanilla white, with brass sconces shaped like tree branches. But most ingenious of all is the (expensive) ventilation system, which sucks all the heat and odors out of the kitchen so diners are not bothered. (Except for High Maintenance, who asked that I mention the draft.)
It was a nice backdrop for the job of waiting for a table. And wait we did. Only the foolhardy, or the very determined, should arrive here at 8pm on a popular night hoping to be a walk-in as we did, or you may set yourself up for Babbo levels of frustration. Better to make a reservation. The issue was that no one would leave. In an hour and a half’s time, only one or two tables in the 50-seat restaurant relinquished their spot. The rest lingered happily on an on.
“It’s the wine!” I said to High Maintenance and Knucklehead, who patiently waited with me. Every diner was lingering over a glass of wine from an excellent list by Joe Campanale. We especially liked the 2003 Gutturnio Il Poggiarello, the 1995 Nebbiolo Riserva Superiore Malvira, and the 2000 Brunello di Montalcino Talenti.
Finally, someone didn’t show up for their reservation. We were overjoyed, as if we’d just gotten standby seats on a Christmas Eve out of La Guardia. Ravenous, we sat down and immediately ordered the bruschetta. The chickpea spread contained not the usual lemon but preserved lemon, and the pesto was made with parsley, not basil. These introduced what would be the most exciting development in dell’anima’s fare – Thompson injects North African and Middle Eastern ingredients into Italian cuisine.
Considering how geographically close Africa and Italy are, the only surprising thing should be that it took so long for cross-pollination to hit. But the flavors themselves are surprising and fresh. Sultana mostarda was essentially preserved grapes tinged with mustard – a sweet and lightly spicy mix that echoed the preserved lemon. “Lily confit” bruschetta is so named because all the alliums in the mix – shallot, onion, and garlic – are bulbs from the lily family. Here they’re roasted to the point of mellowness. It may sound strange to come away from a restaurant like this and recommend the bruschetta above all else. It’s like saying “Get the bread.” But definitely get the bread.
Service was attentive and smart. The manager didn’t blink an eye when an inspector installed himself on a stool in his Department of Health uniform during the dinner rush. How kind of the health department to choose 8pm on a Tuesday to visit (with a seemingly positive outcome). And our waitress didn’t miss a beat when Knucklehead asked her what her favorite Radiohead album was.
“Amnesiac.”
“Whoa,” he said. “You’re dark.”
We concentrated again on the food. Arugula salad was wonderfully peppery here – from the greens themselves, not the dressing.
Pastas are not dell’anima’s strong suit. While we loved the gently oniony pizzoccheri with brussels sprouts and fontina, above right, the bolognese sauce on the tagliatelle was indeed too dry, as Bruni warned in the Times write-up. Note to chefs: If Frank Bruni tells you your sauce is too dry, chances are your sauce is too dry.
Risotto was somewhat bewildering – a piecey, jambalaya-like mix of rice and dry sausage. The spicy sausage overpowered the dish, which I wish had been creamier, like this risotto.
African elements resurfaced in the intensely flavorful, slowly braised wild boar, which was served over polenta with the texture of couscous. I did not get to try Knucklehead’s chicken al diavolo, but reports from afar have it
that it’s quite good, and certainly the chef has a deft hand with spices.
At this point, we hit a wall. It was 11:30. The restaurant was still packed. (They’re open til 2am.) When High Maintenance and I reached the door, the noise level had reached a deafening caliber. Some of the people who had been there at 8pm were still there and still drinking Joe Campanale’s wine.
She said: “It’s a Tuesday night, and everyone’s loaded!”
It’s hard not to get c
arried away at a restaurant that comes to you from the soul.
dell’anima
38 Eighth Avenue at Jane Street
New York, New York
212-366-6633
Alliance for the Arts
The Alliance for the Arts recently hosted a party at Christie’s to benefit the Robert F. Wagner Jr. Fellowship for Public Policy and the Arts. On display was Latin American art – and some fashionably dressed guests.
Don’t be afraid of color – especially in silk dresses.
Shoes that echo the dress.
I don’t know how men coordinate it all – the tie, the shirt, the jacket – but this one did it perfectly.
Clean, elegant lines.
Dresses with high waistlines struck the right note.
A dapper couple.
Loved this guy’s hair.
These two were just so New York. And who is he?
Two stylish men. Note the solid color tie on the right – a Cary Grant look that’s coming back.
Another solid color tie – this time in a more subdued look.
One of several sculptures by Botero.
Shoes that echo the dress.
I don’t know how men coordinate it all – the tie, the shirt, the jacket – but this one did it perfectly.
Clean, elegant lines.
Dresses with high waistlines struck the right note.
A dapper couple.
Loved this guy’s hair.
These two were just so New York. And who is he?
Two stylish men. Note the solid color tie on the right – a Cary Grant look that’s coming back.
Another solid color tie – this time in a more subdued look.
One of several sculptures by Botero.
Madison Avenue and 60th Street
Shoppers and fashionable people travel the route between Barneys and Bergdorf’s on a November afternoon.
Leather accessories in beautiful fall colors.
Three young women exchange a taxi.
Schoolgirls – one with trench coat and cell phone.
Woolen shorts.
Traveling in style with bicycle and briefcase.
Man with scarves and family.
Metallic bag.
Black crocodile Birkin bag.
A well-tailored coat.
Black leather jackets can be hard for guys to pull off, but this one does it with panache by mixing it with preppy picks.
Tina Brown with Goyard bag.
Family of three.
Fluorescent soled sneakers.
Jamee Gregory pops in yellow.
Wide-legged pants and winter white coat.
An interesting mix of color.
Posted in fashion
Tagged Barneys, Jamee Gregory, Madison Avenue, New York, street chic
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Keens
Burger blowhards are everywhere these days. Just as every Ray’s Pizza calls itself “the original,” every place that can scoop together a handful of ground meat and throw it on a grill likes to call their burger “the best.”
After a disappointingly diminutive burger at Resto and a misfired one at Bar Marmont, I was getting ready to give up. A victim of false advertising, I actually believed Bar Marmont’s menu when it touted the restaurant’s own burger as a “darn good burger.” The presumptuousness in the name seems akin to Bruni’s pet peeve, wherein “eat” is interchangeable with “enjoy” in every waiter’s vocabulary. (“Are you done enjoying that?”) There’s also a fashion equivalent. A girl walking down Robertson Boulevard last month sported an outsize tee shirt that read “THIS IS WHY I’M HOT.” If you have to say so…
Then providence intervened in the form of Keens. High Maintenance, Fang Shui et al. ended up at Keens at the eleventh hour before a Bruce Springsteen show. The place was packed. We had no reservations. The maitre d’ was merciful. If we ordered quickly, we could be in and out of the wood paneled, clubby pub room before the Boss went on.
If you don’t know Keens, you’re most likely female. Nearly every male in a fifty mile radius has been to historic Keens over the last 100 years. Not only are they famous for their steaks, they’re also known as a prime bachelor party destination. The ceilings are decorated with hundreds of clay pipes of bachelors past, when the place was a major hangout spot for gentlemen and actresses like “Miss Keens” in the nude portrait above the bar.
Burgers can be wolfed down in a shorter time than steaks, so High Maintenance and I went for those. The “Lady Burger” is a sort of diet plate adaptation of the traditional burger, with no bun and sauteed potatoes instead of fries. This seemed interesting enough to try and showcased the meat itself, which had a deep, grassy flavor on par with aged sirloin, though it’s just prime beef chuck, very freshly ground.
High Maintenance wisely ordered the regular cheeseburger and fortunately only ate half of it, so that I took other half. Finally – a great burger. Both burger and bun had a nice char from the grill. Cheddar cheese was melted to an oozy glaze. Technically, the burger was slightly smaller than the bun, but it’s so juicy that once you sandwich it together with crisp lettuce, tomato and red onion and saw the whole thing in half, it all melds into a coherent circle. Best of all, there was nothing weird about it. Chef Bill Rodgers saw no need to substitute a regular bun with some kind of hardened brioche or swap out cheddar for herbed goat cheese. Nothing kills a good burger like creativity. Chefs should go as wild as they want with other American classics like meatloaf or even pancakes, but please leave burgers alone.
Other standout items on the Keens pub menu are the salty-sweet, plump oysters on the half shell, crisp, just slightly greasy fries, and the perfectly mixed martinis. This is one place that knows about kickin’ it old school.
With all the burger places and gastropubs opening, it’s easy to forget that steakhouses are an excellent source for burgers. The pub room at Keens is better than a go-to place before a show or game at Madison Square Garden – it should be on every carnivore’s must-eat list.
Keens Steakhouse
72 West 36th Street, between Fifth and Sixth Avenues
New York, New York
212-947-3636
Young Lions Dance Party
And now for something completely different: party pictures. The crowd at the New York Public Library’s Young Lions benefit last night was not just young but glamorous. F. Scott Fitzgerald would have approved.
Red lips.
An elegant tux for a black tie event.
A preview of winter white.
There were lots of black sequined dresses on hand. Also note the resurgence of black pantyhose – hers with sparkle.
Red corduroy blazer and Belgian loafers, plus another little black dress.
One of the more fashion forward looks of the evening.
WASP culture.
Print and another sequined LBD.
It was nice to see this splash of color – and another white dress.
An elegant tux for a black tie event.
A preview of winter white.
There were lots of black sequined dresses on hand. Also note the resurgence of black pantyhose – hers with sparkle.
Red corduroy blazer and Belgian loafers, plus another little black dress.
One of the more fashion forward looks of the evening.
WASP culture.
Print and another sequined LBD.
It was nice to see this splash of color – and another white dress.
Central Park in Fall
With a focus on the colors of the moment, black and orange.
Resto
What happens when Frank Bruni leaves the building? Can a restaurant keep its standards high after a positive review, or do they just keep on gettin’ through the gettin’ through? Bruni knighted Resto a “terrific new restaurant” in mid-May. Since his rapturous descriptions of Resto’s hearty, meaty fare appeared at the beginning of a hot summer, Marie Fromage and I waited til fall-ish to sample it.
Resto sits on a quiet stretch of 29th Street, its simple, white-washed and wood-floored interior making it a bare bones but welcoming kind of place, with basic gastro pub decor that echoes the Half King’s on 23rd Street. Like the Half King, in the off hours it can be a good place for a beer and a conversation, but when it fills up, the uncarpeted space can get loud.
Of course, one of the main draws here is the lamb ribs. These were the highlight of Bruni’s review, and they were as much of a cholesterol-laden thrill as promised. Charred on the outside and tender within, rubbed in a Indian spice blend, they were just as meaty and fatty as any rib eater could handle. Served with a yogurt sauce alongside, they tasted like donner kebab elevated to gourmet status.
The Middle Eastern and Asian influences throughout this Belgian restaurant may seem odd, but they’re an accurate reflection of chef Ryan Skeen’s 5 Ninth training and of what European food is now, not a nostalgic view of what it was a couple decades ago. Though you may think of moules frites when you think of Belgium, shawarma is insanely popular there now.
Cuttlefish, which is closely related to squid, arrived in a salad special and provided a nice, lightly acidic counterpart to the meat dishes. Drizzled on the bottom of the plate was a romanesco sauce the Spanish joints in town have taught us to crave. We only wished there was more of it.
Whatever health benefits we gained with the light cuttlefish salad were immediately undercut by the deep fried crispy pork toast lurking under the deviled eggs. These were too heavy even by our fat-seeking standards and overwhelmed the relatively delicate taste of the eggs.
On the other hand, some items were not as indulgently fatty as previously reported. The staff kindly brought us the “tête de cochon” sandwich Bruni chronicled, though it is no longer on the menu. These little pork jowl sandwiches were also kind of “meh” for something dubbed “tête de cochon.” The ratio of meat to bread should be higher for true decadence. Shredded carrots seemed an odd touch, but according to Marie Fromage, carrots are used in almost everything German that requires vegetables.
Whatever the shortcomings of the appetizers, these nibbly bar snacks were better than the entrees, which disappointed after all the Bruni brouhaha. Moules frites with witte ale were nothing to write home about, and the burger was just too small. The burger circumference must be the same as or bigger than the bun; it’s a cardinal rule of burgers. Try serving anything smaller to a child and you’ll get a wail of discontent, which was what we felt. But the fries that came alongside were delicious, especially when dipped in the mayo with onion sauce.
This is not to say that Resto is not worth visiting. On a cool autumn night, there would be few things better than a pint of one of Resto’s many excellent and rare Belgian ales on tap, a platter of lamb ribs and a side of fries devoured at the underused bar. Just don’t come expecting nirvana, because apparently a good Bruni review can be a hard act to follow – especially for the restaurant.
Resto
111 E. 29th Street, between Park Avenue South and Lexington
New York, New York
212-947-3636
Posted in American, food, Gramercy Park, New York restaurants, restaurants
Tagged beer, burgers, gastropubs, New York
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Endless Summer on Astor Place
If, like most of us, you have no clue what to wear on an 85-degree October day, take to the streets for some ideas. Women are stubbornly breaking out their boots, even pairing them with sundresses. Men are still wearing lightweight cotton but in fall colors. It’s as if the whole country’s gone LA. Just no Uggs, please.
Never say never: High-waisted, wide-leg jeans are selling out in stores and appearing on the streets.
Boots, no matter what.
This is supposed to be a bootie season, but many are making do with the boots they already have and looking chic doing it.
Short shorts are still big.
Office attire for mysterious weather.
A perfect “uniform” for this season: white blouse, pencil skirt, and stilettos.
Menswear
Leopard prints.
Office attire for professorial types.
Once the hairstyle of punk rockers then white supremacists, the mohawk has been co-opted by the gay community as a counter-cultural symbol. A cool way of turning the expected on its head.
Didn’t take long for the Marc Jacobs déshabillé look to turn up on the streets.
Purple, and lots of it.
Just plain spiky hair harks back to Joan Jett.
These are not boots but sheer kneesocks and platform shoes.
Cross-chest carry.
Boots, no matter what.
This is supposed to be a bootie season, but many are making do with the boots they already have and looking chic doing it.
Short shorts are still big.
Office attire for mysterious weather.
A perfect “uniform” for this season: white blouse, pencil skirt, and stilettos.
Menswear
Leopard prints.
Office attire for professorial types.
Once the hairstyle of punk rockers then white supremacists, the mohawk has been co-opted by the gay community as a counter-cultural symbol. A cool way of turning the expected on its head.
Didn’t take long for the Marc Jacobs déshabillé look to turn up on the streets.
Purple, and lots of it.
Just plain spiky hair harks back to Joan Jett.
These are not boots but sheer kneesocks and platform shoes.
Cross-chest carry.
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Tagged Marc Jacobs, New York, street chic
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Ode To a White Anchovy Sandwich
For the Marinated White Anchovy Sandwich from ‘Wichcraft, Bryant Park Tent, Fashion Week
O sandwich, no one cares for you here.
The briny flesh of silver-backed fish,
The gentle goodness of a soft-cooked egg,
The bracing zing of a salsa verde crushed
Against a minor thicket of frisée:
All these are lost
On a Blackberrying crowd
That won’t drink the free energy drinks
Because they’re caloric.
The strictures of fashion dictate
That your deliciousness shall have no power
Over a group who
If they had to choose between you and a size two
Would always choose the latter, not the fatter.
I am your only admirer.
I know, because I asked. Was there anyone else
Who ordered this sandwich today, or even
All week? No, said the counter lady, hands in pockets.
You’re the only one.
Fashion Week SS08: Anne Klein
And on the seventh day, the fashion world wore jeans.
It’s a testament to Isabel Toledo’s talent that so many heavy hitters came to the Anne Klein show on the last morning of a particularly grueling fashion week. The artsy Toledo lent a dose of chic and a bit of folly to the traditionally straight-laced brand, where she is entering her second season, without straying too far from its core audience. Suits had an industrial edge. Taking a cue from her husband Ruben, she painted washed silk dresses with colorful flowers. Truly original.
Plum Sykes in jeans
painted jeans
painted everything
colorless glasses frames
Simon Doonan in jeans.
Lynn Yaeger and Mickey Boardman
Anna Wintour
painted tee
Joe Zee
painted jeans
painted everything
colorless glasses frames
Simon Doonan in jeans.
Lynn Yaeger and Mickey Boardman
Anna Wintour
painted tee
Joe Zee
detached lapels and skinny black jeans
A hand-painted dress at the show. Look for the whole collection on WWD.com later today.
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Tagged Anna Wintour, fashion week, Joe Zee, Lynn Yaeger, Mickey Boardman, New York, Plum Sykes, Simon Doonan, street chic
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Fashion Week SS08: Marc Jacobs
Bad news: The Marc Jacobs show was going to be delayed by two hours, late by even Marc Jacobs standards. Publicity agents circulated through the hipper-than-thou crowd, suggesting that everyone go get something to eat, get some dinner or something. No one moved.
“There’s a bar across the street?” a waiting editor said.
Mass exodus.
The show pinpointed what the crowd outside already knew: There’s no one way to corner the market on cool. Breaking with other designers, Marc Jacobs showed a number of silk shift dresses in a cinched-waist season that was already starting to feel a bit constricted. Taking up the challenge to do “sexy,” he interpreted it in the French vein: déshabillé, with sheer panels of fabric and visible undergarments. The unexpected clothes and the expansive pageantry of the show were like a long, cool glass of water after a frustrating wait.
Julie Macklowe
Fashion power trio: Lynn Yaeger, Robert Burke, and Simon Doonan
Shalom Harlow and another model – name, anyone?
a Marc Jacobs hat
Carmen Electra makes eye contact
the shoe of the moment, by Balenciaga
Victoria Beckham
Anna Wintour and daughter Bee Schaffer (They arrived well before Posh.)
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Tagged Anna Wintour, fashion week, Julie Macklowe, Lynn Yaeger, Marc Jacobs, New York, Robert Burke, Simon Doonan, street chic, Victoria Beckham
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Fashion Week SS08: Anne Klein
And on the seventh day, the fashion world wore jeans.
It’s a testament to Isabel Toledo’s talent that so many heavy hitters showed up for Anne Klein, where she is now entering her second season, on the last morning of a particularly grueling fashion week. The artsy Toledo lent a dose of chic and a bit of folly to the traditionally straight-laced brand without straying too far from its core audience. Suits had an industrial edge. Taking a cue from her husband Ruben, she painted washed silk dresses with colorful flowers. Truly original.
Plum Sykes in jeans
painted jeans
painted everything
colorless glasses frames
Simon Doonan in jeans. OK, he’s been wearing them all week. Different pairs, presumably.
Lynn Yaeger and Mickey Boardman
Anna Wintour
painted tee
Joe Zee
skinny black jeans with platform boots
detached lapels and skinny black jeans
A hand-painted dress at the show. The whole collection should be on WWD.com later today.
painted jeanspainted everythingcolorless glasses framesSimon Doonan in jeans. OK, he’s been wearing them all week. Different pairs, presumably.Lynn Yaeger and Mickey BoardmanAnna Wintourpainted teeJoe Zeeskinny black jeans with platform boots
detached lapels and skinny black jeansA hand-painted dress at the show. The whole collection should be on WWD.com later today.
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Tagged Anna Wintour, fashion week, Joe Zee, Lynn Yaeger, Mickey Boardman, New York, Plum Sykes, Simon Doonan, street chic
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Fashion Week SS08: Oscar de la Renta
Perhaps no other designer works with his customer in mind as much as Oscar de la Renta – not an abstract idea of “the customer,” but the actual women who wear his clothes. Every season a loyal coterie of socialites attends de la Renta’s show – and this year, a new Hollywood contingent including Victoria Beckham.
There was no one defining silhouette in this collection, though with the exception of a couple of trapeze dresses, the focus was again on the waist. Moroccan-inspired prints inlaid with sequins and botanical patterns sparkling with hundreds of tiny mirrors were the most exciting developments. These looked particularly beautiful in motion.
Aerin Lauder
Bill Cunningham and friend
Andre Leon Talley
Anna and Graydon Carter
three girls in DVF
Plum Sykes hands over the invite
Suzy Menkes
Marjorie Gubelmann
an Oscar de la Renta gown described as “very vintage”
Scott Schuman, a.k.a. The Sartorialist
The show. For a slideshow, check out Elle.com.
Afterwards, it started to rain.
Jamee Gregory with umbrella
David Patrick Columbia and friends
Grace Coddington
Model Tanya Dziahileva as seen from under an umbrella
Posh makes her exit…
…and paparazzi madness ensues.
Bill Cunningham and friend
Andre Leon Talley
Anna and Graydon Carter
three girls in DVF
Plum Sykes hands over the invite
Suzy Menkes
Marjorie Gubelmann
an Oscar de la Renta gown described as “very vintage”
Scott Schuman, a.k.a. The Sartorialist
The show. For a slideshow, check out Elle.com.
Afterwards, it started to rain.
Jamee Gregory with umbrella
David Patrick Columbia and friends
Grace Coddington
Model Tanya Dziahileva as seen from under an umbrella
Posh makes her exit…
…and paparazzi madness ensues.
Posted in fashion
Tagged Aerin Lauder, Andre Leon Talley, Bill Cunningham, fashion week, Grace Coddington, Graydon Carter, Jamee Gregory, New York, Oscar de la Renta, Plum Sykes, street chic, Suzy Menkes, Victoria Beckham
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