April 2010: The Hermetically Sealed Sunshine World

We need to talk about The Hills. I'm sorry - it has to be done.

I find myself to be a relatively intelligent member of society. That being said - I love glossy, trashy reality television. The Hills was never at the top at that list because, let's be honest, it's staged within an inch of it's life. But it was fun, you could pick apart the outfits, and it had a good soundtrack.

 

On Tuesday, the first episode of the last season aired and it was HORRIFYING. And dangerous. Something has tilted. It's not horrifying in a bad television sort of way, but in a way that has me worrying about the future of civilization. This show used to be a harmless show about beautiful, blonde girls who love to create fake problems...now it's all cocaine and body dysmorphic tendencies.

Let's begin with Heidi, shall we? I knew Heidi Montag (vaguely) a few years ago because I went to college with Holly. Pre-reality fame, Heidi was a gorgeous, silly, skinny girl from Crested Butte. Now it's as though her entire being has become this sad pile of saline, restylane, and pre-packaged dialogue. Sigh. Her life has become the sum total of all of our pop cultural sins. The shot of her mom seeing her for the first time post-op was probably the most reality this show has ever seen. And because of that - it was exploited. It was sad, really.

Now we Peruvian march on to Kristin Cavallari. I like frenzied weekends in Miami as much as the next girl, but there are cameras. Shooting for a nationwide audience. Maybe you should put your coke and vodka fueled weekend on hold? Being the "fun, crazy, drunk girl" was fun in college when you wanted to prove to your boyfriend that you "party just like one of the guys." But come on, wipe your nose.

But who are these sad hags judging? Um, Steph? Didn't you just get a DUI? Haven't you been to rehab twice already? Exactly.





I guess my biggest issue is with MTV and their reality is that they have birthed this idea that bad decisions are a good thing because it might someday make you famous. Acting like an asshole, exploiting your eight kids, crashing parties at the White House, pretending your child is flying above Denver in a silver Jiffy Pop tin all spawned from the Real World and/or The Hills.

Wasn't the point of reality TV the idea that it would show how people actually live? Call me naive but some receptionist at a music company (ahem...Audrina) could never afford that house of hers or a Mercedes G-Class. These people have created fame and money out of their personal lives in lieu of any real talent and/or intelligence. What happens in 5 years when Heidi is no longer getting $50,000 for an appearance fee? What happens in three months when the show is off the air? Off to porn she goes, my friends. Mark my words.

So my question is....do we keep watching? I mean, I have contributed to the viewership that has perpetuated this train wreck. We've all had our noses pressed up against the glass participating in the fun parts and then ignoring the ugly. It's got to come to and end sometime.

March 2010: Diary of a Disaster

Allegedly, there is a parade in Hoboken on the first Saturday of March. For St. Patty's Day. I didn't see it. The actual parade worth watching is the shitshow of people who trek from Manhattan to New Jersey via the Path train at 8am. By the time I got on the Path (around 9am), I had consumed two delish cocktails thanks to a Starbucks cup full of ice and a flask in my purse. Class baby. ALL class. Anyway, my friend Broken slams a Coors Light while waiting for the train and everyone is giggling about how shitty we are about to get. There was a buzz in the air - like Christmas morning for a bunch of drunks in green American Apparel t-shirts.

 

The funny thing about parade day is that only the suckers go to bars - all of the real parties are in houses. It's so funny how when mass groups of people get together for holiday drinking, everyone regresses back to college. Beer pong, drunk makeouts with strangers - I love it. So we hop around to a few parties and this is when things get crazy....

I realize that I am a master at flip cup, start yelling about the Catalina Wine Mixer, and weirdly have a bottle of Stoli in my purse. Dave offends the owner of the apartment, starts wearing a Spartan hat, and is drinking Jager out of a wine glass. Broken is covered in green dye and is on a hunt to make out with any girl over 20 and not married. Jaclene and Alexandra start drinking. Aggressively. And call out anyone not wanting to play flip cup with us. I love my friends.

But, like alcoholic locusts, we move on. Across the street to the next party. This is where things get a little foggy. I was hungry and Dave decides the only way to fix this is by going to the W. Yeah, we're nighttime drunk at 11am - we do NOT need to be around civilized people. But I go because the W is delicious. Halfway though lunch, our friends come to find us but they won't allow them in. Apparently THEY are too drunk. We leave, but not as soon as I'd like so I get mad. Shit talking mad. But then I lose everyone I came with somehow. Then I drop my already bruised BlackBerry, so it gets pissed and stops working. Finally, I find the Paolucci's (I felt like Magellan) and they feed me Jell-o shots while they drunk talk about the Yankees. 

Fast forward to 4 hours later. We find the rest of our friends but now people are DRUNK. I have a dull ache from too many sugary concoctions and not enough food. An attempt at sushi fails miserably.  Alexandra and Jax are headed back up to Westchester for a party (yikes) in a cheese bus, Broken has met up with his work friends, and Dave is being hateful. So I head back into the city, angry and alone.

The moral of the story kids....Hoboken is an evil place. The St. Patty's parade leads to lost wallets, stolen BluBlockers (!), a relationship on the rocks, a green tongue, and a wallet full of ATM receipts. Don't say I didn't warn you.

February 2010: Au Revoir

 

The closing party for the Tents at Bryant Park was sad, surprisingly so... I am not a huge fan of the location change to Lincoln Center. First of all, selling tickets to fashion shows? Ew. I understand the need to add a consumer element to the shows but I feel like it's unnecessary to turn front row at Rodarte to something you can buy on Ticketmaster. Only about a third of the shows were held at the tents this past season as they are all choosing to use other (read: more interesting) venues that allow a better build-in and more freedom in production. I just don't see Threeasfour running out of Milk Studios for Damrosch Park at Lincoln Center.

 

But aside from all of that, the Tents have been a part of my NYC since I've lived here. I moved here from Colorado with the vague idea that I wanted to "work in fashion" even though I really had no idea what that meant. When I was an intern at People's Revolution, the first show that I worked on was Costello Tagliapietra in the Promenade. I remember standing there feeling as though I had achieved something - I'm not sure what - but that by participating in the whole insanity that is fashion week and by standing in the Tents, I was finally "working in fashion" and it made it all worth it. 

 

So on that note, au revoir Bryant Park. It's been amazing.

February 2010: Through the Looking Glass

 Drinking & Dreaming is finally a reality! Welcome to my collection of photos, great restaurants, amazing events, random things I love, and the people I am lucky enough to call my inspiration. Marilyn said it best, "Imperfection is beauty, madness is genius, and it's better to be absolutely ridiculous than absolutely boring."