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On a recent Tuesday afternoon at the mothers’ yoga group I frequent in Park Slope, the conversation turned to sex. There we were, a dozen women in stretchy pants and nursing bras, surrounded by sippy cups and teething rings, our cleavage a collective graveyard of stale Cheerio detritus—naturally, we were in the mood. Read More
As rock musicals go, Rock of Ages can’t go fast enough. This sloppy freak show is two minutes shy of two solid hours of screaming swill, without a shred of freshness, insight, cleverness or coherence to be detected within a two-mile radius. It’s based on a noisy Broadway jukebox joke that was never much to write home about in the first place, but it still had a soupçon of humor and banal charm, both of which are bewilderingly missing on the screen. The fact that the show is still running testifies to the confounding disregard for taste and intelligence rampant among today’s mass-market audiences. I haven’t seen a movie this bad since Battlefield Earth and Howard the Duck. Read More
Aggregator extraordinaire Matt Drudge briefly linked to Gawker’s story that alleged ABC’s Robin Roberts “wasn’t enthusiastic” about landing her big gay marriage interview with President Obama because she was worried it would call attention to the “near-open secret that Roberts is a lesbian” this afternoon and the site took the opportunity to taunt him with an update.
“Internet behemoth Matt Drudge, who has just directed his readers to this post, is also commonly understood to be gay,” the update said. Read More
Ah, yes: Fifty Shades of Grey, the porn-y erotic fiction book that has swept the nation, sending it into feverish bouts of…reading erotic fiction. If you haven’t heard of it by now, you either don’t take the subway enough, or don’t pay attention to what people on the subway are reading, or don’t have enough horny friends who also enjoy the occasional bestseller. Either way, it’s a sexy about sex between a college student and an international business magnate. And now you can act it out! It’s like those real-life games of Quiddich, but instead of playing magical soccer with brooms, people are having sex with whips. Read More
Directed by Mary Harron, who picks unusual subjects (American Psycho, I Shot Andy Warhol and The Notorious Bettie Page) and follows through with drive, focus and a relentless devotion to drawing fine lines between the real and the imaginary, The Moth Diaries is a horror film with a difference. It exudes more emotional intensity than mere things that jump out of closets and go bump in the night.
The setting is Brangwyn College, a former hotel turned into an elite boarding school for proper young ladies, in the middle of a forest where weird things are happening among the mushrooms and moss vines. Read More
Emily, a 24-year-old burlesque dancer with creamy skin and dark curly hair was at a party in Manhattan a few summers back when she lost her vagina. It was a worrisome feeling. She ran around the crowded loft frantically looking under bags and coats yelling, “I’ve lost my vagina!”
“Where did you see it last?” asked one friend with a laugh.
“Do you have insurance on it?” wondered another.
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If designers are artists then they must be inspired, nay? For Peter Som inspiration came by way of Katharine Hepburn and Marlene Dietrich: “Smoldering femininity and masculine garb.” Som worked tuxedo themes and sheer elements to give shirts and coats a strong architectural look. A variety of fall colors danced on silk tops and dress, and a set of patchwork furs were bursting with color. Read More
This week’s New York Magazine is a series of “Workplace Confidential” essays, which include a former Lehman Brothers banker who thinks “nobody is making that much money” on Wall Street, a Page Six reporter shilling for News Corp on the DL, a firefighter who thinks anyone with post-traumatic stress disorder should “fucking get over it,” a Hollywood agent who explains that “the abject lying is crazy” in his business, and other testimonials from people saying things we already knew they thought. Read More
Grown men behaving badly are everywhere on film, but a more stomach-turning band of incompetent losers has never been assembled than the scumbags in the stupidly titled I Melt With You. Four obnoxious human brussels sprouts get together annually for a week of debauchery and self-destruction in a rented beach house in California’s majestic Big Sur. Read More
In Australian novelist Julia Leigh’s kinky, frustrating debut film Sleeping Beauty, produced by Jane Campion, a pale, porcelain college student named Lucy (Emily Browning) escapes from the sterility of the university science lab by taking a job as an upscale prostitute in a high-rent mansion run by a cool, elegant and precisely mannered madam (Rachael Blake) who tells her, “Your vagina will be a temple.” Read More
