It’s still summer? When will this fetid season be over? When will we able to saunter down the street without some Eurotrash moron exhaling cigarette smoke into our lungs? When will we be able to come to work Monday morning and not be faced with hung-over, sunburned, angry colleagues who spent most of the weekend fuming on the Long Island Expressway or buying overpriced arugula from Jerry Della Femina? It’s enough to make someone want a cigarette … but today the American Cancer Society holds a Strike Back Against Tobacco Festival, so that’s out. Martial-arts movie star Jackie Chan will jump-kick a giant cigarette. How big? “Five feet,” said Cancer Society spokeswoman Sara Eguren. “It was his idea, he contacted us-I don’t have details!” Easy, doll-face!
[Bryant Park, Sixth Avenue and 41st Street, noon, 800-ACS-2345.]
Be a male model-or just smell like one! Fledgling fashion company Marzotto Lab is teaming up with L’Uomo Vogue to throw a midsummer cocktail party for 300 to 400 people: photographers, models and maybe some well-known guests. Question: Why doesn’t America have a Man Vogue? And what the heck is Marzotto Lab? “It’s an upscale men’s collection for ages 25 to 40, medium price point,” said flack Jodi Lin Wiener. “It has a very unique styling to it-it’s about layering, maybe a nylon vest over a soft button-down plaid shirt. A lot of the materials are really new finishes. A pant may look like it’s made of cotton, but it’s really techno fabric.” Uh-oh-get ready for fickle, ambisexual Manhattan males to start bouncing down the streets in their new techno pants!
[Studio 450, 450 West 31st Street, 9 p.m, by invitation only, 213-3504.]
If you’re a gay man trapped in a woman’s body-and who, when you get right down to it, isn’t?-hear author Patrick Price read from Drama Queen: The Gay Man’s Guide to an Uncomplicated Life. We found Mr. Price, 29, at his day job as an “indentured servant” to an I.C.M. literary agent. “We just got a manuscript about a little duck that had a magic cell phone that could transport him to other realms,” he said. About his own book, he said, “It’s Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff for gay men. Drama just sort of seems to be the thread that pulls us all together. I’m definitely not drama-free, but I hope it’s a little bit more of an outsider perspective. I’m more of the one where those experiencing the drama come to me.” Oh, come on now. “O.K., I’m like a retail masochist. I bought a really nice pair of Prada boots; they were half-price, marked down from $500 to $250. They went from being ludicrous to extravagant.” That’s the best one can hope for.
[Barnes & Noble, 675 Sixth Avenue, 7:30 p.m., party to follow, the View (location pending), 232 Eighth Avenue, 929-2243.]
Bargain benefits! If you’re like Mr. Price and have blown your entire paycheck on a pair of insouciant little mules, well, don’t worry-you can still jostle with other sweaty New Yorkers for a good cause. Affordable benefit A: the YWCA’s summer shindig, Dreams, which involves an exhibit of postcards and a raffle for round-trip tickets to Cairo. (Check first to make sure Cairo isn’t on the State Department’s “You don’t wanna go there, girlfriends” security list.) What the benefit will cost you: $50. Affordable benefit B: Over at the U.S.S. Intrepid, some 2,500 “young professionals” will be swilling the hard stuff at a “casual, hip” event for the Manhattan Society, a worthy fund-raising group for the National Multiple Sclerosis Society. What it will cost you: $65. It beats coming home from a long day at work and hearing your loved one utter the words “summer squash.”
[Dreams, YWCA, 610 Lexington Avenue, 5:30 p.m., 735-9781; Ultimate Summertime Party, U.S.S. Intrepid, 7 p.m., 463-7787.]
Calling all retail masochists! Three days left of the big Sigerson Morrison shoe sale (all shoes $69), so leave work for a few hours (if you work at Condé Nast, your boss is already into his or her second helping of fries at that clam stand on Route 27) and go splurge …. If you’re in the city this weekend, we got female choreographers for ya! Three of ’em, in a program called Cross-Pollination at the Merce Cunningham Studio in the West Village. Rachel Cohen’s dance, Metropolitan Crawl, navigates the territory of a cocktail party. “It’s sort of the idea that we have all of these social graces, and underneath there’s just this mass of insecurity and really strange behavior,” said Ms. Cohen, a high-cheekboned 28-year-old Harvard grad. “It’s sort of like Upper East Side ladies and chorus ladies, just sort of contrasting the ridiculous and the sublime-like the beautiful woman who’s going down the beautiful staircase and trips and falls. They’re all women, and they all wear black and white-it’s basically culled from the 1940’s and 1930’s, early musicals, Busby Berkeley.” Our big-cheese editor just fired up his Vespa.
[Sigerson Morrison, 28 Prince Street, 11 a.m., 219-3893; Cross Pollination, Merce Cunningham Studio, 55 Bethune Street, 9 p.m., 924-0077.]
[Super Saturday, Ark Project, Water Mill, 1 p.m., 800-873-9569; Group for the South Fork, Villa Maria, Water Mill, 7 p.m., 631-537-1400; Jivamukti Yoga Center, 404 Lafayette Street, 4 p.m., 353-0214.]
Weekend with kids? Screw them up permanently by taking them to the Renaissance Faire, held inexplicably in the well-fortified, vaguely Gothic WASP enclave of Tuxedo, N.Y. Eat roasted boar, watch jugglers and “rogues” …. Hey, is that Brooke de Ocampo in one of those pointy hats with a veil on it?! We called five-year veteran Kevin Dunn. “I started as a giant puppet,” he said. “And from there I moved on to the Master of the Feast. I sold insults and compliments for a year.” After filling your belly with mead, hit the Woodbury Commons outlet mall, 11 miles south. Avoid puffy shirts and doublets.
[600 Route 17A, Sterling Forest, Tuxedo, N.Y., 10 a.m., 845-351-5174.]
Baldwin brother golfs: The semi-famous-Jon Lovitz, Kyle MacLachlan, Scott Wolf, Peter Gallagher, Tate Donovan, Dweezil Zappa, Jason Priestley, Jimmy Kimmel and William Baldwin-slip into their spikes and crisp cotton-pique knickers for a charity golf tourney to fight Lou Gehrig’s Disease, made up of 25 foursomes (each containing one semi-celebrity) in Croton-on-Hudson. Mr. Baldwin-you loved him in Sliver-called us from his office on the Upper West Side, where he punches the clock when he’s not hanging out at the Connecticut farm he’s renting with his six-months-pregnant wife, Chynna Phillips, and their 17-month-old daughter. He just finished two movies, including one with Milla Jovovich that was directed by Edward Burns’ little brother, Brian. “You know what?” said the Baldwin bro. “When I’m on the golf course with somebody that gambles in golf, they use all these terms that I don’t know, like an ‘over-under’ and a ‘Nassau.’ I have no idea what they mean, no idea. But I do know that a ‘best ball’ is when whoever has the longest, straightest drive, the other three pick up their ball and drop it where the best drive was.” Oh, men! So, is he any good? “I’m not bad. The other day my brother Stephen and I went out, and I played seven holes and I parred three of them. Do you know what that means?” No, but we loved you in Backdraft. Or was that the fat one?
[Hudson National Golf Club, 40 Arrowcrest Drive, Croton-on-Hudson, 10:30 a.m., 800-603-0270.]
Nouveau thing: Pink-cheeked journalist Michael Lewis, currently living in Paris-guzzling Pinot Noir and nuzzling his redheaded spouse, former MTV personality Tabitha Soren (the Parisians call her “Ta-bee-ta”)-hops aboard a plane and comes to New York to sign glitter-covered copies of his latest tome, Next, which had its subtitle hastily changed from “The Invisible Revolution” to “The Future Just Happened,” both of which have a whiff of French existentialist angst. Which is what happens to nice American boys when they spend too much time in those smoky bistros ….
[Barnes & Noble, 33 East 17th Street, 7:30 p.m., 253-0810.]
Crazed tykes in big glasses swarm into Soho this afternoon, so you’re advised to stay the heck out! Unless you want to be surrounded by little boys and girls chattering excitedly about Harry Potter: The Scholastic Store is having a birthday party for that bespectacled poster boy for the infantilization of American life. We asked our intern Bobby to look into it, and he eagerly loped over to us in his cargo pants with a page full of notes scribbled in a cramped, schoolboyish hand-then he vanished in a puff of smoke, and we haven’t seen him since! Later, up at Lincoln Center, those same kids’ parents chatter excitedly about the opening-night gala of the Mostly Mozart Festival, with guest soloists Itzhak Perlman and violist Pinchas Zukerman (above), whose parents surely plucked his name from a Philip Roth novel.
[Scholastic Store, 557 Broadway, 4 p.m., 343-6166; Mostly Mozart, Avery Fisher Hall, 65th and Broadway, 8 p.m., 875-5000.]
Wanna feel really old? O.K., try this on for size: Today is the 20th anniversary of MTV. And you weren’t exactly a teenager when that first video was beamed into your living room, were you? In fact, Carson Daly is younger than the pants you’re wearing. Makes us wish we had a little duck with a magic cell phone that could transport us to other realms.