Off to the Airport For a Trip to Yesteryear
I'm fuming over not having tickets to see Keane play tonight at Irving Plaza. I was really looking forward to seeing how a band can rock that hard without a guitarist (they're simply drums, bass, and keyboards - honestly).
But then an editor friend of mine (the one with the bling in the pic above) comes through with an invite to go to an art opening (http://www.terminalfive.com/) at the old TWA Terminal 5 at JFK, a marvel of architecture that may be most familiar to you all from the serviceable Spielberg by-the-numbers flick "Catch MeIf You Can."
It wasn't quite a "raging" party, but it was black tie, and I'm a sucker to show off my brand new slim-cut Louis Vuitton suit. Since the locale is decidely 1960s, I chose a white and navy blue tie with an appropriate 60s motif. I look like a surfer gangster with impeccable taste.
The art was a mixed bag, the stand-outs where the massive LEGO prints by 'Generation x' author/playright cum artist Douglas Coupland, and a mysterious photography booth that took four black and white pictures from a surprising angle in the top left corner of the booth, where I have a brief, mildly inebriated chat with Casey Johnson, J&J heir and director of the docu "Born Rich."
Whatever I may think of his documentary (fascinating subject, so-so filmmaking), I can't argue with the awesome beauty of his redhead girlfriend.
As I swig Grey Goose and white cranberry drinks, I nearly run into GW and Laura Bush, and Kerry, or at least quite convincing impersonators. They're there to take part in an installation playing on tomorrow's debates.
The party begins to die down, and we leave in a town car, alas, without goody bags (the bright orange towels they offered after they ran out were a poor substitute).
We drive back to the city, straight to Union Square to meet a few friends at Belmont Lounge. The doorman actually addresses me as "Sir" as I walk in without a hint of sarcasm in his voice. Amazing what a well-tailored suit can do for you.
I am knackered. One last drink, a few more photos, a bit more chat, and I share a taxi home with a girl, again snogging my way uptown.
But then an editor friend of mine (the one with the bling in the pic above) comes through with an invite to go to an art opening (http://www.terminalfive.com/) at the old TWA Terminal 5 at JFK, a marvel of architecture that may be most familiar to you all from the serviceable Spielberg by-the-numbers flick "Catch MeIf You Can."
It wasn't quite a "raging" party, but it was black tie, and I'm a sucker to show off my brand new slim-cut Louis Vuitton suit. Since the locale is decidely 1960s, I chose a white and navy blue tie with an appropriate 60s motif. I look like a surfer gangster with impeccable taste.
The art was a mixed bag, the stand-outs where the massive LEGO prints by 'Generation x' author/playright cum artist Douglas Coupland, and a mysterious photography booth that took four black and white pictures from a surprising angle in the top left corner of the booth, where I have a brief, mildly inebriated chat with Casey Johnson, J&J heir and director of the docu "Born Rich."
Whatever I may think of his documentary (fascinating subject, so-so filmmaking), I can't argue with the awesome beauty of his redhead girlfriend.
As I swig Grey Goose and white cranberry drinks, I nearly run into GW and Laura Bush, and Kerry, or at least quite convincing impersonators. They're there to take part in an installation playing on tomorrow's debates.
The party begins to die down, and we leave in a town car, alas, without goody bags (the bright orange towels they offered after they ran out were a poor substitute).
We drive back to the city, straight to Union Square to meet a few friends at Belmont Lounge. The doorman actually addresses me as "Sir" as I walk in without a hint of sarcasm in his voice. Amazing what a well-tailored suit can do for you.
I am knackered. One last drink, a few more photos, a bit more chat, and I share a taxi home with a girl, again snogging my way uptown.
posted by Unknown at 1:15 AM
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