Birthday greetings from RitaPHL and her husband Jim. A card they created together that celebrates Autumn - thoughtful, beautiful and longer lasting than a bottle of Château Latour!
The Hotel Bryant is on 44th between 6th and 7th; right near Times Square and directly across from Bryant Park where Fashion Week 2006 was held. Being right at the heart of the action the energy of the event pulsed through me. From my room I watched as name after name came out the back of the tent to their waiting cars to hit the next show. The gate was crowded with photographers waiting to snap a shot and fans lined up to get their pictures taken with the celebs. It was more than electric, it was intoxicating. As an aspiring designer it was all I could do to contain myself. I know it’s naïve to imagine being discovered by Marc Jacobs, but believe me the fantasies were swimming in my head. I had my traveling partner and very good friend Saya take the reigns and shoot this little clip as soon as we got there.
I had my fitting at the Empire State Building. I planned an all-original ensemble consisting of a shirt I made, pants I Hazzardized and toting a bag that Saya had made. As soon as I entered the room a small camera crew walked up to me and asked if they could get a few words about the show. They were from MTV and were covering the Heatherette show. I was caught totally of guard, but naturally obliged. The fitting lasted all of ten minutes.
They took the shirt in at a couple places around the shoulder, threw some last minute accessories on me like these sunglasses and the item that pulled it all together, the empty Vodka bottle. It boasted the name Georgi. When I took a whiff to experience its bouquet I was met with a most unpleasant aroma that I will not soon forget.
After everything had been placed, they took a Polaroid and clapped their hands in delight. As I got undressed and dressed again I took great care in putting my pants on very slowly and removing my shirt to showcase the designs. They had not noticed the hand embroidery on the jeans or the tribal design down the sleeve of the shirt or the bag. They did however notice my socks. I own not a single pair of white socks; they are all tie dyed. The assistant asked if they were Heatherette socks.
“No, I made ‘em.”
“You have a little Heatherette in you” he said.
That was good enough. I left for dinner in Chelsea planning on introducing the line of socks along with my T shirts.
The day of the show I did not eat anything aside from some yogurt in the morning. I was a little nervous at what could happen and what would happen. Backstage was nothing short of semi-organized chaos. Models were late and Richie was on roller skates; I suppose that helped. He slowed down enough for us to get a quick photo. He photographs really well.
They allowed photographers backstage. I suppose with people like Paris and Nicky, Mya and Mena Suvari it made sense. The space was tiny and people were everywhere asking questions for their show or taking pictures for their magazines and websites. It made for a very crowded backstage. Mena was one outfit over from me and Paris and I had our make-up done next to one another. I was really surprised that they were both a bit shorter than me! It was a little surreal to see Mena; I admired her performance in season 5 of Six Feet Under so much. Mya stood behind me in queue for the line up. Paris remained untouchable as she was escorted from her first walk to the next outfit change.
During the line up I was told I had a partner to walk down with. This concerned me because I had not been informed before or been told how to walk down with him. On a runway you are to walk down, do your look and pass the oncoming model on the right. Well. The runway was lined with flailing dancers on either side and Paris and Nicky were walking before us, side by side. I had no idea how to do this. Should we separate and walk up side by side? Should we walk up one in front of the other? My partner had no clue either and no one seemed to care very much about the order - so why should we? I suppose it went well. Nobody fell and the pictures came out great.
I enjoy doing the runway; everything about it to me is exciting. It’s different and my clothes get to stay on eliminating the worry of looking bloated or being cold - you guys know exactly what I’m talking about! I went to the hotel right after the show skipping the after party. I was so tired and did not feel like being around any more crowds or cameras. It was a great couple of days and I was glad I was there. My only regret is that I didn”t get to keep anything.
When Johnny expressed a little impatience on Thursday with regards to the long development period of the new HazzardXXX.com site I figured I had better buckle down this weekend and make some progress. Not that I’ve been ignoring the project, quite the contrary. It has been months since the design was complete, but I have gone through five different content management systems and none of them thrilled me. So I thought I had found the right one yesterday and this morning I awoke to find the server down leaving me without a work agenda. Instead of scrubbing my tub, going through the two months of mail on my dressing table or trying to discover the source of that mysterious smell in my room I opted to create the photo galleries from the Delinquents glamour shoot. After all, you need content for a new web site, right? That smell will be there tomorrow.
Six hours later I was still on the first of three galleries. It didn’t occur to me just how long it would take to give those photos the loving attention they deserved. Usually I would be sick and tired of the subject matter by this time, but for some reason I’m not at all over seeing Johnny half naked on high quality linen sheets. Go figure.
My life is a nightmare. Work has been insane. Everyone is pushed to the limit and tension is running so high we’re all closer to snapping than any of us are willing to admit. That stress has been very detrimental to my sleep, which makes dragging my sorry carcass out of bed each morning that much more difficult. To keep on schedule I slashed all “optional” prep items from my morning routine at home. That meant brushing my teeth at work, letting my hair work it out alone and not shaving at all. I don’t know how Johnny can manage that scruffy look of his. A beard is itchy as all get out and it drove me nuts all week! Being Norwegian I can’t grow a beard for love or money and every few years I go through this process to remind myself of that fact. I took this photo today moments before I hacked at my face with a razor so I could look a little less transient when I go out tonight.
Oh yeah, that. Chi Chi is spinning at Faultline tonight so I’m fairly confident I will get the chance to dance my ass off and some of the stress as well. Faultline is a leather bar in Silver Lake that is always fun because there is no attitude whatsoever. It can be rather scandalous. I’ve seen things there that would make a doctor go pale. It should be a blast. And hopefully I can score an audience with the diva. It’s been too long.
Last Wednesday I went out with the guy who I thought I slept with, but hadn’t. I thought we would try a little place called the Butcher Shop. Yes, the butcher Shop; not necessarily the best name for a restaurant, but still quite an experience. A salute to the European boucheries, this place is definitely one to write home about. It had gone up 20 ft from where I used to live 2 months before I left. I was quite disappointed but happy to finally experience this new neighborhood addition.
The name implies just that; a Butcher Shop, complete with gourmet hot dogs, fresh farm-stand eggs, and homemade chutneys. As you walk in the bar is to your right, to your left begins the counter tables. The counters are arranged in a very intimate and almost claustrophobic fashion; they serve as tables for parties of 2 to 6. There is no room for shyness, I bumped the woman next to me several times lightly in the elbow during dinner; par for the course in a joint like this.
At the end of the bar is a massive butcher block that doubles as a holding place for people waiting for tables and as the run off for thirsty locals at the bar. On the very back wall are two larger glass refrigerators holding the dairy, Foie and other tasty treats. The menu was creative and utterly mouth watering. We had 4 dishes, 2 vegetable and 2 meat. Luckily our waiter knew to course it out sparing us the task of finding more room; we could barely keep the B&B at the Pellegrino on the table.
First course was an Heirloom Tomato salad with mozzarella di bufala. I am just as sick of it too, believe me, but if you ever had Heirloom anything - especially tomatoes you would be on it like flies on shit. We ordered Kobe meatballs over bruschetta to enjoy with the tomatoes. For seconds we paired an order of root veggies with a Hangar Steak dressed with mushroom vinaigrette. The veggie arrived to us in parchment paper. I had heard of that technique but had never seen in front of me. It is now on my list of “must try’s.” The steak was superb, although too rare for my date.
I asked the waiter for a recommendation on the wine since they were all new to me. The Coturri Albarello struck my fancy for some reason. When I asked the waiter to describe it he wisely offered me a taste instead. I have a new favorite. It comes from an organic vineyard in southern Sonoma. Organic wines in my experience taste like mud or a compost pile. This was nothing of the sort. The blend is predominantly Zinfandel and Petite Syrah with a small percentage of young Burgundy and Carignane. It was absolutely perfect. The nose is rich and approachable. The Zinfandel gives the wine deep, well-pronounced fruit without being too jammy, the Petite Syrah lends great acidity and the tannins are so integrated that they are fleeting. The finish is something to be savored; lingering on the back palate so long that you don’t want to eat out of fear of spoiling the experience.
For dessert I noticed they carried not one but 3 Banyuls. I LLLUUUHHHUUUVV a Banyuls. It is a fortified Grenache from the Rhone Valley. Usually used as dessert wine, done right it serves as an anytime wine. While I was contemplating my choice in agony, I overlooked the small print stating that they offered all 3 as a flight. Sold. One was a Blanc that was smooth and powerful, like a well done Muscat. Out of the two remaining I opted for the one done the way I know Banyuls; raisin aromas subtle coffee tones with a feel of autumn in every sip. The other one was the runt; a tawny that drank loosely and faded away easily in the shadow of its counterparts. For the actual dessert plate we chose a pumpkin bread pudding, fall is in the air. I must say that was by far one of the most enjoyable well-executed dining experiences this guy has had in a while. Rita, if when you come back YOU HAVE TO TRY IT!!!
