Making The London Scene: She’s A Whippet-Thin Stunna, He’s Dead Sexy!

The absolutely most luscious thing about working in an office is sharing the wealth of magazine subscriptions. Speaking of: The Transom purchased, actually paid for, a subscription to Hamptons magazine more than a month ago, and it has yet to arrive. Paging Jason Binn, your order fulfillment department is making The Transom very, very unhappy. Read More

Home Stretch

The estate of Kay Jeffords, the maverick owner of the star-chaser Lonesome Glory, just went to contract on Jeffords’ regal residence at 4 East 66th Street for close to the $15 million asking price, real-estate sources close to the property said. Cornelia Zagat Eland, with Stribling and Associates, who had the exclusive listing on the Read More

Dune, Where’s My Hampton? It’s Seceding!

On Friday, Aug. 15, the Bridgehampton Beach Club was thronged past capacity with villagers, none of whom had brought their bathing suits. Cars were parked illegally on the grass for half a mile down Ocean Road. Dozens of policemen were stationed at the entrance, and officers surveyed the scene in a mobile command unit parked Read More

July 24 – July 31, 2002

Wednesday 24th

Hawke hawks: You remember precocious young author Jonathan Safran Foer -he of the gorgeous brown curly locks , Princeton pedigree, secret media coaching, fawningreviews, babeauthorgirlfriend ( Nicole Krauss ) and ( cough ) rather brief skirmish with best-sellerdom? And you remember scruffy young actor Ethan Hawke -he of the gorgeous blond actress Read More

Eight Day Week

Wednesday 1st

Welcome to August! The month when Manhattan’s entire population of shrinks flees to their leaky, $500,000 fixer-uppers on the Cape-”Is that a mouse? Egads! A mouse!!”-with copies of The Noonday Demon tucked under their arm, leaving the rest of the city in a deep, unshakable depression, mostly because of the new subway Read More

How Not to Ride the Jitney

‘Something’s up with these lights,” I say out loud to myself

inside the Hampton Jitney, idling on 40th Street and Third Avenue at 9 p.m. on

a recent Friday. I’m reading and the type is fuzzy. What is it? Am I on drugs?

I am. My wallet’s bulging with a new bag of Thai stick, Read More