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Monday, March 03, 2014

Media-Whore D'Oeuvres



"Last Thursday night Jerry della Femina and his wife Judy Licht hosted a book-party for their friend Dr. Gerald Imber who has just published his sixth book 'Wendell Black, MD' in which a New York City police surgeon finds himself in the middle of an international drug-smuggling ring.Dr. Imber in non-literary life is one of the most preeminent plastic surgeons in New York. He’s also an assistant clinical professor of surgery at Weill Cornell Medical College. NYSD readers also know him as one of Da Boyz – Della Femina, Bergman, Greenfield, Kramer and Imber who often occupy a center table in the Michael’s melee on Wednesday. I’ve known Dr. Imber for some time. I think I met him first when I interviewed him for a piece. He was known for also having a roster of male clients as he proposed that doing 'little things' early kept the countenance fresh and good for the executive market place. I don’t know if he’s ever had anything done to himself but he wears a sunny disposish most times I’ve seen him, and if you didn’t know, you’d think the guy is just a laid back businessman (always looking as comfortable in a suit and tie as in a jacket and jeans) enjoying his visit to this small planet. I describe him thusly because when we were chatting at the party the other night, I asked him when  -- at what hour – did he (a working MD!) sit down to write? First of all, I asked him how long it took to write this book. ('About a year'). And when did he write it?" (NYSD)









"A thousand years ago I had a job at Viacom at the heart of Manhattan.  Mercifully, I had lucked out in the accommodations department. I was living rent free in a friend’s empty penthouse. My rich friends always had more homes than they could inhabit and I made a habit of filling in off season. My life was always full of these apparent contradictions, of superb wealth dangling just out of permanen... t reach. Every morning I would swish in a marble tub whilst sipping an espresso and then I’d trudge off across slushy dirty sidewalks, head bowed. I tried to vary the route when possible, to help fight routine fatigue. Except for storm days when I beelined for the closest subway entrance. A damp slippery corner where newspapers and rotund muffins winked from behind scratched plexiglass booths. There were those mid-winter days when more than half the employees could not make it in from their far flung suburban reaches. In the unusual quiet I would stare out from the glass tower overlooking Times Square, watching snow tumbling in its dignified gaiety, the streets and sidewalks almost devoid of life. New York City at midday midweek and empty and quiet all blotted out from the snowstorm. Fishtailing taxicabs the only color in sight. I promised myself how one day I would be long gone and coddled in sunshine." (Christina Oxenberg)


These Mayan shirts are so GORGEOUS... but tiny, tiny arm and head holes.


"Chichi is cool for so many reasons – chief amongst which is: it has the largest indigenous market in Central America. Clearly, I had to go. And I was not disappointed. Mayans, for miles around, come in ever Thursday and Sunday to sell intricately sewn textiles, death masks, chickens, dolls, sweaters, chotchkes, you name it. all at the foot of the 400-year old church of Santo Tom├ís – which is built atop a Pre-Columbian temple platform, and the steps originally leading to a temple of the pre-Hispanic Maya civilization are still there. K’iche’ Maya priests still use the church for their rituals, burning incense and candles and in really special cases, they burn a chicken for the gods. Each of the 18 stairs that lead up to the church stands for one month of the Maya calendar year. It’s kind of amazing – especially as I’d assumed all the Mayans died out years ago. I was wrong. Thank God. [Ed note: Mayan rituals are a lot like voodoo rituals - involving chickens, blood, candles, booze, cocaine, leaves and fire. I think it must a universal fact that pluralist gods liked to party. A lot]. There was also a sick restaurant area in the middle of the market which served the best fried chicken I’ve ever had, hands down. Don’t tell Aunt Dee I said that. She’ll be pissed." (Paula Froelich)


Vanity Fair holds Oscars mixer at Sunset Tower


"Ever wanted to be a fly on the wall at Vanity Fair’s annual Oscar party? This video is probably as close as it gets. From red carpet arrivals to the glamorous digs inside, take a look at this year’s event from inside out, starting with the construction of the brand-new space on Sunset Boulevard and leading to the wee hours at the end of the big night. There are Oscar winners taking photos with their awards, spontaneous dance parties, and cameos from people you didn’t see during the awards show, like Ben Affleck and Taylor Swift. We’ll let you tell us which star looks the happiest to be there, though our early money is on Channing Tatum, who pops up at the very end with an even bigger smile than he gave Ellen in the famous selfie.  For more from inside the party, check out the complete photo gallery." (VF)



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