Moby—the melody macher responsible for that seratonin-laced stuff you couldn’t escape a few years ago but is now relegated to Ian Schrager’s iPod—not only arranges naughty subterranean parties, he also writes his own e-mails. And, as it happens, he has a very interesting method of doing so, alternating line breaks and Read More
Last night at a party for The Atlantic Monthly‘s 150th anniversary, held on the stage of the NYU student center auditorium, the aging cable-access porn star Robin Byrd was looking around the room. She saw Robert DeNiro, and locked in.
"Hello!" she said, touching his right arm.
"Hi" he replied.
"Hi," she said, curling a Read More
Moby, it turns out, doesn’t think there are enough options in New York for club kids on the prowl for a “degenerate night out dancing.” His remedy: a lineup of DJs (called the “Degenerates”) handpicked by Mr. Play himself are to spin at Hiro Ballroom, beneath the Maritime Hotel, starting this Thursday, Oct. 11. As Read More
No fewer than 20 Arden Wohl-esque headbands were spotted at the Whitney Museum’s Art Party on Wednesday, June 6. The evening’s dress code was, after all, “hippie chic,” in honor of the museum’s current exhibition, “Summer of Love: Art of the Psychedelic Era.”
Socialite Genevieve Jones looked beautiful in her daisy headband. Man about town Read More
Lower East Side stalwart Moby has outgrown his hipster roots. The diminutive, bald musician and tea entrepreneur, né Richard Melville Hall, recently relocated to the gilded quiet of the Upper West Side, purchasing a spacious two-floor apartment overlooking Central Park. “It’s very grown-up and classy,” gushed one friend who’s been inside. “You would think a Read More
