Who is Larry Levan? And why is everyone here so happy? Seriously, I just nudged and bumped into twenty New Yorkers and I'm not in the hospital yet—what's happening? How could this "Larry Levan" creature unite blacks, whites, Asians, gays, hookers, yuppies, puppies, Aussies , babies and oldies all in close quarters without a brawl? Let me take you into the world of Larry Levan. Don't be scurred…
I celebrated Easter Sunday with my handsome friend, Brandon. Brandon and I met the summer before our freshman year at Indiana University and we've been friends ever since. I've learned a lot from Brandon about style, makeup and how to get shit for free.99. He does so all the time, unabashedly.
Hosting a friend's first NYC trip is best way to Treat. Yo. Self. I mean, your friend who is visiting. You should probably treat them...
I have mad respect for Harlem. Although the nabe has experienced some social and economic gentrification, it's still predominantly and comfortably black (a hue as scarce as hen's teeth in yuppified Bushwick) and the people are friendly. My friend Eunice lives in Harlem and I had yet to pay her a visit, so when I discovered the first annual Harlem Food Truck Rally, I figured it would be the perfect opportunity to catch up with my beautiful pal. The rally was held this afternoon on Frederick Douglass Blvd and Jerk Shack, Mr Nice Guy, Luke's Lobster, Shorty's, Gorilla Grilled Cheese, Crepes Truck, Hibachi Heaven and Palenque all pulled in to fatten us up.
Oh my God, I can't stop eating. And I'm still drunk from brunch this afternoon, so I'll keep it short. This weekend, I ate at Le Barricou and Café Cortadito to cure my hangover woes. Here's a little about the two.
I never heard of Monique Lhuillier and the thought of attending her show at Mercedes Benz Fashion Week seemed more stressful than exciting. First, I had to assemble the perfect outfit—H&M stacked rings, chocolate lipstick à la Zoë Kravitz, and my Billy Holiday dress from Idle Wild that features one frayed and gaping hole. Then I had spent the next 30 minutes or so figuring out how to cover that hole. Then, I gave up on covering said hole and threw on a jacket. Then, I had to drag my ass uptown through the snow to wait amongst a crowd of bitchy fashionistas only to be ambushed by a few creepy foreigners who asked—wait—demanded that I pose for their Instagram while they bombarded me with questions about my camera. Then, I had to make sure aforementioned foreigners weren't trying to jack my camera. It was a lot of work. Little did I know that Lhuillier is kind of a big deal and that her show was worth the trouble, for I'd be sitting in the front row across from Anna Kendrick, Emmy Rossum and my favorite stylist, Brad Goreski.
Behold, the Brazilian Girls. A band named "Brazilian Girls" with no Brazilian members . They're one of my all-time favorite groups with music produced in five different languages, blending electronic beats with jazz, lounge, reggae, tango, chanson and a lot of weed—a drug which manifests itself in songs like "Pussy" and "Corner Store." The band formed at Nublu back in 2003 and they moved last night's performance to that club once they left the ballroom. You should check out Nublu if you like electronic music. It's not as swanky as it sounds.
My friend, my camera and I had the pleasure of seeing them at the Highline Ballroom for the first time last night and their performance wasn't bad.
The Chinese Lunar New Year Parade is a gathering of elaborate floats, lion and dragon dancing, beauty queens, acrobats, magicians, processions and a bunch of creepy Brooklynites with Asian fetishes. The 15th Annual Chinatown Lunar New Year Parade & Festival was today (2/2/2014), so I decided to check it out with my friend Kerry and my new Lumix GF5 (I can finally use my camera!). If you suffer from claustrophobia, the lunar festival isn't for you. I hate large crowds, so I'm going to have to pass on the 2015 parade. That being said, I'm glad I went this year. Here are a few reasons why....
I really want a tattoo. My reasoning? It's rather silly and jejune. I don't care to ink on a dead grandpa's face or some boring Anaïs Nin quote. I just want to be edgy, you guys. Edgy.
The best way to celebrate New Years in New York is to go in with no expectations and come out drunk as fuck.
One bitch's quest to love NYC.