Lohan in Nylon rocking a NY look that Londoners stole

By Ray LeMoine

UK Haters Forget They Stole Nylon’s NY Style
In reviewing a column by Pecahes Geldof, Bob’s daughter, The Guardian UK says:

Nylon magazine, whose target market is evidently every jaded, self-regarding New York hipster who thinks they’re part of a movement, as opposed to the sort of people with whom you could only bear to have a conversation if speedballs were provided. Apparently Nylon has a really big Klonopin culture — something that may not come as the most awful shock were you to wade into its editorial content at any length — and Peaches is at the age where she thinks it’s totally edgy to tell people this stuff.

I’m not going to defend Peaches Geldof, who I’ve barely heard of. But really, Guardian, you want to try and talk shit on Nylon? The magazine that basically invented the New York high-low style girl? You know, the chick archetype that invaded every corner of the globe? And remember: Nowhere has been more on NYC’s nuts than London over the last seven years.

I remember when the first Marc by Marc Jacobs collection hit in 2001, right around when the Strokes were playing around downtown, before 9/11. I visited London a few times that year and everyone still had a Britpop hangover. When I returned year later, every single person I saw looked like Stroked-out, Marc Jacobsian clone. You Brits stole that shit from us, assholes!!! And no one was more influential in creating this look (vintage/high-design/street look) than Nylon.

Also, I’ve never read a Nylon article trying to get anyone to join a “movement.” Their editorial staff are more intelligent than that. They know they are a fashion magazine. Sure, their fashion editorials sometimes go one or two (or eight) accesories too far, but the photography and styling are both original and trend-setting. Maybe you Brits need to revisit 1994 and remind yourselves when London actually was cool—Liam, Justine and Damon, Jarvis etc.

(And what’s so bad about Klonopin? At least it’s not crack ala London…)


By Ray LeMoine

TNR runs a “Photo of the Day” of Palin holding her down syndrome baby Trig, the quarterback kid (named so because he’s tossed around like a football), at a rally in PA. But the baby wasn’t the best part of the pic. Rather, it’s the boots she’s wearing. So Death’s Head chic!

By Ray LeMoine

A girl I used to live with worked for the company that licensed Agent P’s fragrances. Thanks to her, I got exposure to the British lingerie company’s sleazy style. So here’s a picture of 19-year-old Daisy Lowe at an AP fragrance launch in London this week. Daisy’s a Primrose Hill hottie who dated the non-lesbo but still (closeted) gay Mark Ronson.

By Ray LeMoine

Milan Fashion Week still better than war

More fighting between US and Pakistan:

Two American OH-58 reconnaissance helicopters, known as Kiowas, were on a routine afternoon patrol in the eastern province of Khost when they received small-arms fire from a Pakistani border post

By Ray LeMoine

We never really liked those banker dudes anyways…

A lot of hype about the market crash’s effects on nightlife have been spewing forth. Mainly, people are saying that without jr i-bankers the bottle service model—where nightclubs only let in those who buy $600 tables—will die, and with it New York nightlife as we know it. A few corny clubs (Myst, Prime—both of which I’ve never even heard of) have announced they’ll no longer require a bottle service for entry.

In order to gauge the effect of the market crash on nightlife, I stopped by The Box, Beatrice, Hotel Delmano, and Apothke over the past few days. Guess who’s gone missing (to some extent)? Dickheads with cop haircuts in suit-vests and ties. And now, guess who’s still out? Yup, hot chicks. From what I saw, The Great Manhunt of 2008 has never been more fierce, and if anything, more girls than ever are on the scene.

So the end of investment banking means more girls for anyone not in banking. It also means a few of the lamer clubs will become more like your Tunnels and Twilos of yesteryear, where all you need to get in is a cover charge. But NY’s economy is diverse enough to sustain a handful of premium clubs—The Boxes, 1Oaks, Marquees, Beatrices, SubMercers.

See, unlike the 30s, when America was a third-rate power, we now have the most diverse economy in world history. After we won the war against Germany and Japan, we wound up with a third of the world’s wealth. With our newfound, unprecedented $$$, we made a deal to rebuilding Europe and Japan. Included in that deal was a clause stating that US culture and product gets unrestricted access to these markets. This gave the US the chance to build a large “creative economy.”

Despite the market crash, NY’s creative class remains in tact. Industries like television and fashion have never had more cash. Even Hollywood is having a decent year, with Batman grossing a billion worldwide. Live music is played in NY more than ever (motherf–king My Bloody Valentine are playing tonight for heck’s sake). Advertising is still based here. The art world hasn’t slowed much (see: Hirst, Damien).

All this makes me believe that New York will survive this “greatest collapse since the Great Depression” without shanty towns on the East River. People are right to be worried about the nationalization of a trillion in Wall St assets, but the IRS, another huge federal agency, runs just fine.

Fear not, party folk. As a bunch of entitled sociopaths (and last week’s short-selling was sociopathy) with Roman numerals at the end of their names downsize, the rest of us can enjoy one aspect our victory against the Nazis wrought: the rise of the American creative class.

D&G bag at Milan Fashion Week.

By Ray LeMoine
T Magazine Blog wins…best paragraph of the week:

Yesterday was the first day of the Milan shows, and it already feels like a carnival. But with runway footage being displayed on Jumbotron screens throughout the city, you feel like you’re in the city of fashion-as-business, not fashion-as-high-design. The gigantic neon Emporio Armani Eagle that welcomes you when you get off the plane at Linate Airport is also a dead giveaway. By the way, I recommend flying into Linate over Malpensa any day — it’s way closer.

By Ray LeMoine

I attended the Prada event last night with my self-proclaimed “wanker flatmate” (he’s a Brit). The semiannual event was held at their Rem Koolhaus-designed Soho store, which is shaped like a half-pipe. It was a great party, packed until the end, and whoever did the lighting is brilliant. Kanye West was talking to every person there. So much for that diva reputation. I heard a guy try to the cut the line at the bar by using this line: “Heather Graham needs vodka.” The bartender just stared at him. Pretty sure I spotted Perry Farrell there with a Sunset Strip-ish blonde.