While I knew I wouldn’t spit it out on the floor, I thought the pricey hooch might be lost on me entirely. Read More
It was 1 a.m. on the Bowery, and someone wanted a picture taken.
A pair of barely dressed, plain-faced girls clutched each other, giggling, as they approached 27-year-old Kirill Bichutsky, who was perched against a wall in the VIP section of the nightclub Finale. Outside, on this Thursday in March, was a swarm of freezing 20-somethings trying to finagle their way through the door.
“Kirill, hi!” the taller of the two women shouted nervously to Mr. Bichutsky, who was identifiable by a T-shirt and a hat, both bearing the name of his website, Kirill Was Here. He held his camera, ready, in one hand.
“I think my friend wants a champagne facial …” the woman yelled, as her friend elbowed her, embarrassed, but in silent non-denial of the request to be sprayed in the face and have it captured on camera. Read More