A Little of the Old In and Out
In: David Lee Roth, who has been quite active of late on the New York party circuit. First he was on The Sopranos, now, apparently, he's all buddy-pal with Jason Binn. Not a bad resume. According to Fashionweekdaily, the Binn's will be living it up upscale with Diamond Dave on the Fourth of July, "We�?ll be out in Aspen with [former Van Halen frontman] David Lee Roth launching Aspen Peak."
And if that weren't wild enough, Roth is running with the angels now that he was passed over to front Van Halen. Here's the quote of the day from Fashionweekdaily, made by David Lee Roth at Jason Binn's pool party, "I've been riding around in an ambulance doing actual EMT work and it's amazing what you find in each of the different neighborhoods. On the Upper East Side, it's mostly heart attacks; on the Lower East Side, you have the ecstasy overdoses; and in Harlem, you find all the traumas."
Out: Michiko Kakutani, Presidential memoirs snob. There are many potential kinds of snob to be on the hypocritical Upper West Side ("What? We don't believe in social hierarchies!"): a white wine snob, the privatenurseryy school snob, the Lincoln Center tickets snob, the stone ground cracker snob, restaurant snobs, an Asian adopted baby snob, even -- dare we say it? -- an electrical car snob (you get my point about Upper West Side liberals?). But, lo and behold, woe unto thee if you are the worst snob of them all -- a Presidential memoirs snob (Averted Gaze). Editor and Publisher writes:
"In an unprecedented move, The New York Times late Wednesday posted on its Web site a review of a book not scheduled to run until July 4 in its Sunday Book Review. This, of course, is no ordinary book, but Bill Clinton's new memoir, 'My Life.'
"The review, by famed novelist Larry McMurtry, calls the book 'the richest American presidential autobiography.'
"Although the Times did not indicate the reason, much criticism has been leveled at the paper since last Sunday, when it published an extremely unflattering review of the same book on its front page (a very rare event), two days before the book was published. That review, by regular critic Michiko Kakutani, called the book 'sloppy, self-indulgent and often eye-crossingly dull.'
"... Times spokeswoman Kathy Park, in announcing the early posting, did not address any of the criticism or the reason for putting the new review up so early.
"McMurtry in the new review says that 'snobbery' is the reason some reviewers have compared Clinton's book unfavorably to the classic by Ulysses S. Grant. 'Some people don't want slick Bill Clinton to have written a book that might be as good as dear, dying General Grant's,' he charges.
"He adds, slyly, 'There are plenty of stout sticks to beat Clinton with, but Grant's memoir is not one of them.'"
Like I said, Out: Michiko Kakutani, Presidential memoirs snob (sniff, sniff, Averted Gaze).
In: Good Plastic Surgery (link via Defamer). All we hear about is the bad plastic surgery. Sometimes silicon is our friend. And sometimes silicon is our enemy.
Out: Danny Aiello plays the outer borough "ethnic" card, according to Lloyd Grove (Say what you will about Grove, he is making the tabloid wars far more exciting and competitive than Mitch Fink ever did):
"Snubbing the rev: That was Danny Aiello refusing even to look at Al Sharpton Tuesday night when Sharpton dropped by Aiello's table at the Four Seasons Restaurant to say hi to Jason Binn, David Lee Roth and half a dozen others dining with the actor. 'I'm not going to shake hands with Al Sharpton - I just can't do that!' Aiello vowed."
Come on, Danny Boy, the Reverend is just your harmless garden variety attention seeking buffoon. He's not dangerous like the Staten Island-Howard BeachBensonhurstt (The Corsair makes quotation marks gesture out of thin air) "powernexusx" believes (The Corsair softly chuckles). It's not like he pals around and makes sundry business deals with convicted felons. Ka-Pow!
In: Sheik Chic? What will the Muslim fundamentalists say when a Dubai, United Arab Emirates investment group buys into one of the hallmarks of "Western Decadence"? Come to think of it, "Western Decadence" sounds like a theme that Donatella has, uhm, pursued in her life. Anyhoo: Vogue reports:
"HAS Versace found a buyer? The Italian fashion house, which is the subject of much speculation ahead of Allegra's 18th birthday next Wednesday, has apparently been contacted by the Istithmar fund about buying a minority stake. Versace admitted earlier this year that it was looking for a financial partner and, with Gianni's niece due to inherit 50 per cent of the business next week, the fashion world has been on tenterhooks to see what will happen next. It seems that this Dubai, United Arab Emirates-based investor group, which has a bank balance in the region of $2 billion, has big plans, however. 'A brand like Versace is the dream of any sheik,' Matteo Corsini, the Italian partner of Istithmar, told Women's Wear Daily. 'I think Versace is the best brand in Italy. New money is a good combination with the Versace brand.' While CVC Partners, Cerebus and Apax Partners, all of which were expected to show an interest in the house, have failed to come up with any offers, Versace itself is refusing to comment on any rumours. 'The company has received great interest from many parties,' it said. 'All inquiries have been forwarded to our advisers Credit Suisse First Boston and Lazard.'"
Out: Kimberly Stewart's Chihuahua. One of the unwritten rules of being a socialite, or, for that matter, rock royalty such asKimberlyt Stewart no doubt is, requires that if you have an annoying little Vienna sausage-sized dog, you need to either carry it in your Louis Vuitton, or get a special carrier for it. No exceptions. To do anything less would be to damage the social honor of said dog. And a social misdemeanor on a nervous dog of that size could be fatal to his little over-bred heart. But don't quote me on that.
Imagine the social insecurity that dog is feeling, being trotted around the fashionable districts in London in a paper bag. That's like placing a crown of thorns on the son of god, I'm serious, people will talk. If Kimberly Stewart were seen in a respectable neighborhood carrying her little weiner dog in a (averted gaze) paper bag (cough that signifies feigned detatchment) ... the ASPCA would be on her ass faster than Christian Slater in the strip club VIP room.
In: La.com's blog has an interesting blind item that has me bewildered in a way I have not quite been since Heidegger's unorthodox reading of pre-Socratic philosopher Heraclitus:
"Even Dollys titanium-clad heart goes out to that young show biz beaut who could soon be spending some of her gazillions on couples therapy--if, that is, she wises up to the wild and wanderin ways of her good-lookin-travelin-man boyfriend. The sexy young thang must be so busy with her own booming multihyphenate career that she doesnt have time to snoop into her boyfriends luggage before he hits the road. See, her man tends to cram his with such goodies as whips, handcuffs, leather masks, seriously scary dildos and those ever-popular tit clamps. If our starry-eyed little miss werent in such a state of denial, she might also have the time to check with the maids and staffs of the hotels at which her boyfriend stays, especially since the dude is so careless about leaving behind those sex toys wherever he goes. As for the pain-loving guy, we guess the dummy hasnt figured out yet that the butch, foreign dominatrix types he likes to hire bring their own toys with them at no additional charge."
Who is this?
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