Gridskipper

Congratulations to Tokyo at 3 AM, winner ...

Ben Leventhal — Mon, 12 May 2008 16:59:44 EDT

Congratulations to Tokyo at 3 AM, winner of The Corolla Dream Destinations contest. After a week of deliberations, our esteemed panel of jurors agreed with the popular vote. Says juror Lockhart Steele on the winner, "The others felt like tourist itineraries, but Tokyo felt like the kind of night you'd really like to stumble into." Thanks to all who played and congratulations to Tokyo, who now gets to pack his bags and head to Roppongi.

Please Stand By [From The Desk Of The Curbed Guys]

Ben Leventhal — Thu, 01 May 2008 11:07:14 EDT

Thus, we come to the end of another chapter in the wacky, wild and charmingly schizophrenic history of Gridskipper. Out from Denton's clutches she comes, into the somewhat less menacing grasp of Curbed (a whole slew of city blogs, for the uninitiated).

So as to keep you in the loop, the action here will be suspended until much closer to Memorial Day. Behind the scenes, the site is going to get a minor facelift and an editorial Come to Jesus, on the other side of which will emerge a new Gridskipper ready for summer. As for what that means, mostly you'll have to just wait and see. Although now would be as good a time as any to find a good sun block.

Happy Trails [Announcements]

John Rambow — Wed, 30 Apr 2008 18:36:13 EDT

Hunter, Alisa, and I have been posting from a front table at that hoary blogger watering hole, Schiller's, and some of us have been drinking — I won't tell you who. What I can say is that it's been a great two months, in large part because I entered a site left in such great shape by its current editor-at-large, and one with such dedicated and witty writers and contributors installed.

What will I miss? I'll miss the fine brick ceiling of the Gawker HQ, and I'll miss a good majority of the people working underneath. I'll also miss working on a site that provided a needy world with so many pertinent details about strippers, needlessly cute animals, drugs, and restaurants.

I wish Curbed lots of luck with their newly envisioned site — I think I speak for all of us when I say I'm looking forward to seeing exactly what that is. I also wish we could be working together longer, but it's not going to happen with my rent being what it is. Job offers, whether in earnest or not, will be entertained as they never have before.

The Top 5 Lessons I've Learned From the Blogosphere [Last Words]

Hunter Walker — Wed, 30 Apr 2008 18:14:20 EDT

Remember the story about the pilgrim colony where the settlers all disappeared? The whole town vanished with no trace except a bunch of empty houses and a creepy message on a tree that no one understood. This post is going to be kind of like that tree message. I can't tell you anything about what's going to happen next here at Gridskipper or how I'm going to keep paying for the salmon roe, espresso, and fine Dutchmaster brand cigars that I need to keep me alive. What I can tell you is that I've learned so much while working for this crazy little web site. In fact, my time here has taught me so much that, as a parting gift to you, my dear readers, I wanted to share this list of the Top Five Life Lessons I've Learned From the Blogosphere.

5) Whales taste like ass.

4) Cats can't type for shit.

3) Quarterly "bonuses" are not the same thing as actual health benefits.

2) You'd better have a really cool girlfriend if you expect to get laid while constantly writing sarcastic posts about being a massive man whore.

And last, but most definitely not least:

1) When you find yourself looking for work, it's best to give out your e-mail address to as many people as possible.

That's pretty much it! When Chris Mohney and Amanda Kludt first approached me about working for Gridskipper in a dingy downtown cantina, I never could have imagined how educational, entertaining, and most of all, strange the next year would be for me. Thanks are due to those two crazy kids as well as John Rambow, Alisa Gould-Simon, our readers, the fearless Gridskipper contributors, Beatrice, Kaila, Jim, Cia, and the Wu Tang Clan, whose tunes propelled me through so many of my journeys through the blogosphere. It's been real. Vaya con dios mis amigos.

Finding Street Art in NYC [New York]

John Rambow — Wed, 30 Apr 2008 17:15:19 EDT

". . . walking through Williamsburg several years ago, I was stopped in my tracks by the haunting face of a young girl peering out at me from within a doorframe. Pasted on a door was a beautifully detailed woodcut print I would later learn had been crafted by the street artist Swoon. Down the street, I discovered what looked like a cover of a tawdry pulp fiction novel stenciled on some wooden scaffolding by a collective known as Faile . . . from that moment on, I was hooked. With a little patience, you too can develop a street art habit."

The Travel Industry's Dirty Little Secret [Travel Writer]

Alisa Gould-Simon — Wed, 30 Apr 2008 16:58:05 EDT

Mark Jolly, the founder of the luxury travel website, globorati and a writer for for Conde Nast Traveler and Travel + Leisure, has been guest blogging for the NY Times' The Moment this week. A recent entry starts off as a condemnation of former travel writer Thomas Kohnstamm's new book about lying and cheating his way through the travel industry, and selling a few drugs in the meantime. Can Jolly relate? Not exactly. "Even during my lean years I never accepted a guidebook commission since the pay was always pitiful," he says. Duh, if Kohnstamm had just gotten a job with Conde Nast none of this ever would have happened. All the same, though, "the real shock is that [Kohnstamm's] the first to blow the whistle on the travel industry's dirty little secret."

The real kicker, however, is that Jolly (god, what a name) ends the piece with a bit about how lonely life as a travel writer can be. Yes, yes it is. Especially when you're of the blogging variety and are forced to work all by your lonesome from home as your new office may not have room for you, and your old office has banished you like the plague.... I mean, I love travel! As Jolly says, "Despite the dream spas and the white-powdered beaches, there's a component of the job — and it is a job — that's lonely: tables for one, single cabanas, and slipping in between the shadows of all those shiny, happy people on holiday."

Speedo Airlines [Airlines]

Alisa Gould-Simon — Wed, 30 Apr 2008 16:15:00 EDT

Funny or Die has unearthed video of an old Carol Burnett Show skit about airlines. In this case, it's a parody involving a fictional airline called Speedo, with Tim Conway as the agent and Harvey Korman playing a frustrated passenger. The video touches on both the inefficiency of airline agents and the helplessness of the passenger. Considering what we know of the modern travel experience and airline agent/passenger relations, the sad thing is, it really doesn't seem all that different from today. Worse: the fact that the "No Frills Airline" is even less far off. [via]

Los Angeles: Where To Catch A Game, or, A Downtown With No Sports Bars [Los Angeles]

Omri Ceren — Wed, 30 Apr 2008 16:11:40 EDT

When we wrote about downtown's Trifecta we were like "sure they're douchebags but at least they're douchebags running a sports bar in downtown LA." And then when we wrote about the Grand Sports Bar we were like "they kind of suck but at least they're running a sports bars in downtown LA." And then both of them went out of business. And then the Flower Sports Bar went out of business. And now downtown is more or less bereft of watering holes servicing both man's need for alcoholic nourishment and his need to drunkenly declare that he's about to fight that out-of-town sports fan over there. Luckily downtown still has a few bars and restaurants where you can catch the occasional game. If you show up at just the right time. If they happen to be open that day. If they haven't closed early. If you're lucky. Fuck. (photo)

Casey's Bar & Grill
613 S Grand Ave, Los Angeles, CA 90017
Jake Tringali from Casey's has taken to trolling Chowhound threads telling people that the establishment is not so much a sports bar as an Irish pub. And yet sports fans of all kinds — but USC fans especially — camp out at this place during football games. Some people would suggest that this is because of Casey's surprisingly good bar food or the comfortable divey atmosphere. Fair enough. But it probably has at least something to do with the frat boys' memories of college-era parties at Casey's that involved school buses full of sorority girls, doctor-themed costume parties, and test tubes filled with glowing alcoholic shots. And they return again and again. (photo)

ESPN Zone
Figueroa at 11th, Los Angeles, CA, 90015
This part of LA Live isn't actually open yet. As such. Nor has LA Live even officially had its grand opening yet. As such. The Nokia Theater has already opened — and that's been a real treat because someone forgot to widen the 110 and half of Fig is still shut down for loft construction — but that's more or less it. So when the ESPN studios open in fall 2008, with this bar and restaurant attached to the front, there's going to be a little experiment in applied economics. To wit: is the Downtown Renaissance sufficiently advanced that it can sustain a 30,000 sq. ft sports bar — to say nothing of the rest of the complex? In other words, will the vast majority of LA residents say "you know what, let's go; fuck the fact that I'm going to have to wait an hour and 15 minutes to get to another bathroom stall" (hint: no). But at least the studios attached to the ESPN Zone "will be home to SportsCenter and a number of live shows and original programming broadcast on ESPN and its affiliate networks including ABC Sports." And at least the bar will provide a veritable cloud of plasma TVs, comfortable seats, and sweet, sweet liquor. So there's that.

Fox Sports Sky Box
1111 S. Figueroa Street, Los Angeles, CA 90015
Some people criticize this place for having exorbitant prices, chain restaurant food, and an aggravating mix of trust-fund coeds, career sports fans, and drunk VIPs. In fairness to the establishment, though, they keep obnoxiously irregular hours so it's not like you have to put up with that stuff with any consistency. All of that said, it's currently downtown's only large, legitimate sports bar. And it does pull off its mainstream LA sports bar ethos fairly job well — the female servers are sufficiently flirtatious, the male servers have adequately frosted hair, and the bevy of TVs display the proper amount of sporting events. But no happy hour? Really?

McCormick & Schmick's Downtown LA
633 W 5th St, 4th Floor, Los Angeles, CA 90071
They don't really want your kind in here. This is decidedly not a sports bar. For most of the day it's a high-class establishment with white tablecloths, expensive seafood, and snotty waiters who are exquisitely aware of both. But during McCormick's best-in-downtown happy hour - 3pm-7pm and 9pm-10:30pm M-Th and 3pm-10:30pm Fridays — you can take advantage of the gigantic dining room TV and of the multiple smaller TVs in the bar area. They show sports. Mostly basketball, sometimes baseball, and rarely football (so hoi polloi). But still — sports. Happy hour also allows you to avail yourself of $1.95 burgers, fried zucchinis, hot wings, quesadillas, bruschetta, and an assortment of other absurdly priced goodies. Also worth mentioning: $5 oysters on the half shell, a restaurant specialty. The happy hour waitresses, moreover, are classy cute-as-button servers who bring you your food warm and your drinks well-poured. Ask for Stephanie — who is quite simply spectacular — and tell her I sent you. Then watch while she demurely pretends that she doesn't know what you're talking about. Like I said: these ones actually have some class.

Royal Clayton's
1855 Industrial St. Los Angeles, CA 90021
This place is kind of surreal. It's a mix of loft-dwelling hipsters, soul-deadened corporate drones, and — shock of all shocks — people looking for a decent sports bar. The downside about walking to this place is that you have to walk through Skid Row. The downside about driving to this place is that you have to park your car right next to Skid Row. But if you live across the street — or if you have a really shitty car — you can come here for a startlingly good combination of solid food, interesting people, and TVs conveying sporting events requiring skill, talent, and the kind of dedication that only heart can provide. If you can get past the college dropouts and the professional students, then it's quite the place to watch events that neither college dropouts nor professional students can aspire to.

Weiland Brewery Restaurant Downtown
505 S Flower Street, Suite B-410, Los Angeles 90071
A nearly perfect example of downtown's sports bar plight: whatever's on the variously placed TVs — the locations of which have already been decided with only minimal consideration for sports fans' needs — are merely an accessory to happy hour. Unfortunate, certainly. But the upshot is that there is in fact happy hour food and drink. And that's not nothing given the derelict state of downtown's sports bar scene. This location is an offshoot of its better-known Little Tokyo parent establishment. But it still has the same solid menu of steak strips, battered shrimp, and all manner of fried health food. You might have to crane your neck a little bit to see the game, but on the plus side they're open until 2am during the week. Happy hour goes from 3 to 7 and then from 10 until closing time. But you cannot come here on weekends since, like the rest of downtown, they're naturally closed.

Who Didn't Buy Gridskipper from Gawker Media [Secrets Revealed]

Chris Mohney — Wed, 30 Apr 2008 15:59:00 EDT

Hey, it's Gridskipper's last day at the parent company! Who knows what will happen at our shiny new home. I, for one, will be bowing out of my relatively specious remaining duties, and for all we know, Adam's housecat will be in charge after sundown. But there's been lots of speculation — OK, some occasional speculation — regarding who or what might have tried to pry Gridskipper out of Gawker Media's warm, supple, sticky tentacles. Here's the exclusive behind-the-chiffarobe report on what really went down in Nick Denton's smoke-filled lavatory.

Condé Nast: An early favorite for the Gridskipper sale, Condé Nast's online arm CondéNet decided instead to purchase SFO Media, purveyors of HotelChatter and Jaunted. Likely a wise move, since those sites contain 92% fewer hookers and cocaine than Gridskipper, and CN's target demo is more about Viagra and escort services. Only material change will be renaming of SFO sites to HotélChattér and Jauntéd to match pro-diacritic corporate policy.

Gothamist: The venerable network of metro sites contributed a phrase to the Gawker Media editorial lexicon that's still au courant: "too Gothamisty," in reference to a post about something so trivial, micro-local, and/or picayune that it could only end up on a blog created by unpaid freelancers sifting news feeds on their lunch hour. Of course, there's an increasingly narrow gap between content created by the unpaid and the underpaid (or the overpaid, for that matter). Besides, getting Gothamisty was overtly recommended by Gawker management when Gridskipper started posting maps, so full circle, right? Just like Gothamist, Gridskipper already posts about pandas all the time, so a merger would be redundant anyway. Nota bene: Gothamist lord Jake Dobkin is reputedly hung like a horse.

Jason Calacanis: Jason's got his hands full with that Mahalo thing, and he already dumped his last two efforts on AOL, so he's probably got little interest in ruining another brand. Initial proposal to transform Gridskipper into a Twitter-based blog rejected as not challenging enough by Gawker tech.

AOL: They'll buy anything (see above), so seemed like it was worth a shot. The AOL Acquisitions IM Chatbot has been buggy for the last few weeks though; even in the best of times, it's only willing to make VC offers based on stock swaps, and really, come on.

Hearst Corporation: The legendary media combine would hardly notice if Gridskipper was used to caulk the windows of its shiny new Manhattan headquarters, and in fact an offer was on the table to incorporate the blog into the online arm of Town & Country Travel. Sadly, that fell apart when Gridskipper staff revealed their bilious hatred for both towns and the countryside in general.

Travel Ad Network: One of a procession of online pimps who wanted to tart up Gridskipper like a painted whore and pack the archives with spam for credulous advertisers. Mortgage rates at all time lows — click the dancing lady silhouette! New editorial content would focus on the indisputable virtues of JetBlue, Hilton Hotels, and GlaxoSmithKline.

Mark Cuban: Might have purchased Gridskipper if he could use it to antagonize Nick Denton and/or if it was a professional sports team. Cuban now hates all blogs and bloggers except his own blog and (presumably) himself, so this would have been a tough sell. Possible brownie points: The only mention of Cuban on Gridskipper refers to him as "the not-so-secret masturbatory fantasy of every gay man in Dallas."

Tumblr Inc.: As blogs once were to mainstream media (MSM), so Tumblr now is to mainstream blogs (MSB). Gridskipper could have formed the perfect bridge between the two (MSB/TBLR), adopting an all-funny-pictures-plus-daily-lifestyle-complaint strategy. However, though it's charming to tumbl and reblog your friends' adventures, most Tumblrs are as thrilling as a dominatrix with sleep apnea (BDSMZZZ). And Tumblr's occupied with a plan to monetize a series of functions that amount to glorified blog commenting, so hold on to your audacity hats.

Curbed Network: What, you thought Curbed actually bought Gridskipper? Don't be silly. Gridskipper got picked up like a used sofa abandoned outside your college dormitory, except there's about a million monthly pageviews under the cushions. Still, Curbed is good people, and anything that keeps the old family home from getting Sploided is all right by me. Bon voyage.

Paris rat-catchers tackle rodents. Officials ... [Paris]

Alisa Gould-Simon — Wed, 30 Apr 2008 15:49:26 EDT

Paris rat-catchers tackle rodents. Officials in Paris have launched a citywide campaign to eliminate the 8 million rats living below the City of Lights' surface. Ew, nothing cool or cute about that (except maybe a BBC photo editor's choice of putting a Ratatouille still as the article's accompanying image).

Men's Guide: Getting Groomed in DC [Washington DC]

Catharine Richert — Wed, 30 Apr 2008 15:25:01 EDT

I still can't figure out why my boyfriend doesn't desire a day at the spa like I do. It's especially odd, because there are all kinds of barbershops, boutique salons and spas that cater to the manly men of this city. Maybe he thinks that a $100 treatment called "The Commander in Chief" that includes a manicure is both emasculating and expensive? It sounds good to me. Anyway, here are a few spots in Washington where you can clean up your filthy boyfriend.

Grooming Lounge
1745 L Street, NW, Washington, D.C. 20036
Guys can pick up shaving lotions, shampoo, and other prissy products like "Replenishing Face Serum" while treating themselves to a hot lather shave or a glycolic peel.

Diego's Hair Salon
1901 Q St NW, Washington, DC 20009
Now this is a place where a man can come and feel like a man. It's a no-frills spot in Dupont Circle that seems to be open when it feels like it. Makes sense: Diego is European. He apparently came to DC from Italy to keep up the ambassador's good looks and never left.

The Watergate Salon
2532 Virginia Ave, Washington DC, 20037
The Watergate Salon is largely cut out for women, but they have a special men's menu that includes facials and back waxing (yum).

Louis' Barber Shop
1120 20th St NW, Washington, DC 20036
Louis' caters to the working men who need a quick cut during their lunch hour. Apparently, those working men include Bill Clinton, Charlie Gibson, and Christopher Walken.

Knockouts Haircuts for Men It seems as if Knockouts is hiring for a soon-to-open Arlington location near the Clarendon Metro Stop. This franchise may be on to something big. From their website, it looks like they hire really hot girls who may have a stint at Hooters listed on their resume to cut hair, massage feet and trim nails. Sounds almost illegal.

Lee's Barber Shop
1500 E Capitol St NE, Washington, DC 20003
From the reviews I've read about Lee's online, I get the impression it's a pretty laid-back place where people come first to chat and second to get a cut. Almost like the good old days.

A Beginner's Guide to Gridskipping [Gridskipper]

Andrew Evans — Wed, 30 Apr 2008 15:17:53 EDT

Blogs define the undefinable — that's why they're blogs and not logs or frogs. Monsieur, you might ask, mais, qu'est-ce que c'est le gridskipping? Indeed, all these years and nobody's had the balls to just ask. Is it because Gridskipper is a loan word that only cool, edumacated people know and practice, or is it because just like the word zeitgeist, gridskipping is nothing more than a zeitgeist for a generation of jaded travelers? Someday, when Martian archeologists are dusting nuclear fallout dust from our petrified servers and piecing together the human spirit for a touching museum exhibit on Earth people, they just may come upon these motheaten annals of travel debauchery and wonder, as we sometimes do, just what this was all about. In their search for real answers, the future bubble-helmeted historians might sift through the Rosetta stone that is Wikipedia, or maybe even a real dictionary. But for the sake of them and future generations of Chinese people, let me lay it out for you in this handy-dandy time capsule format. Forgive me for just cutting and pasting stuff from off the net, but that's all that writers are good for these days.

gridskip v. (gridskipped, gridskipping) 1. to cross boundaries, imaginary and real, as well as measures of distance on a grid, notably lines of latitude and longitude. 2. [figurative] to travel so casually that the experience of transcontinental goings and comings can only be fully annotated online 3 a. the irony of traveling without the realization that one is traveling (e.g. "The Wal-Mart in Jackson Heights was out of pizza pockets, so I drove to the one in Greenland"); also b., the irony of not traveling but having the sense of traveling (e.g. "In one single whiff, the all-you-can eat buffet below my building alighted my taste buds to the angled streets of Karachi"). 4.the post-postmodern way to travel 5. to cross a line, to make a point that lacks any and all innuendo. [from the Old French gridiron and the English boy's name Skip]

gridskipper n. 1. one who skips grids, or gridskips. 2. cool people who travel the world without guidebooks. 3. Young adults who as children found meaning in the passive-aggressive geography lessons painted on the tetherball courts of their school playground; who, during physical education classes, thought "Hey, I'm crossing the Himalayas" and who also noted the gross misrepresentation of Papua New Guinea versus South America in said asphalt murals. 4. [Slang Gr. Brit. offensive] A person with unhealthy passions for baby animals and/or strippers.

In short, Gridskipping is:

Putting your own damn chocolate on the pillow, sometimes smearing it in real good so that it looks like some unsightly stain.
Buying used postcards.
Therapeutic massage practiced by a professional
Comparing the best french fries in Washington, DC with those in Los Angeles
Touring prisons
Staying faithful
Civil disobedience
Cutting-edge travel journalism
Good pastry
Polar bears
Gridskipping is NOT:
- Running with the bulls
- Doing drugs
- Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants
- Moleskine products, esp. the fill-in-the-blank kind
- Photoshopping your sunsets and landscapes
- Fashion
- The New York Times
- Georgetown
- Eating, Praying, or Loving. Just drinking.
- Orlando, Florida
- Bespoke anything, except when it is
Feel free to chime in, while you still can.

So long, farewell, auf weidersehen, goodbye [Annoucements]

Wed, 30 Apr 2008 14:57:13 EDT

Sad as it may be, today, April 30th, 2008, marks the last day Gridskipper will exist in its current form. Our beloved blog, as you may know, will soon make a new home for itself at Curbed.com. John, Hunter and myself will all be saying sayonara via separate, forthcoming posts. That is, once we can stop crying into our respective drinks. Stay tuned...

Drinking Outdoors in Williamsburg [New York]

Alisa Gould-Simon — Wed, 30 Apr 2008 14:41:56 EDT

Come summer in NYC, few things compare to being able to drinking outdoors (that is, unless you're lucky enough to have summer Fridays, but that's another story). Be it in a backyard or on a rooftop, pairing a cocktail with a cool summer breeze is pretty much the best it gets. And what better place to do so than the epicenter of all things hip? That's right folks, next stop: Williamsburg, where there are dozens of places to slap on a pair of wayfarers and down a few PBRs while basking in the sun. (photo)

Bushwick Country Club
618 Grand Street, New York, NY 11211
I've always had a love-hate relationship with this place, given its proximity to my apartment, but for the sake of this map I'll just focus on the good: the photo booth, the backyard (there's a makeshift putt-putt course), and the Jim Bean slushies served all summer long.

Spuyten Duyvil
359 Metropolitan Avenue, Brooklyn, NY 11211
Look for the red iron storefront; inside you'll find a standout wine and beer bar (which shares its owners with Fette Sau across the street). Out back there are plenty of tables, but get here early, because all summer long this place will be packed to the brim with locals who will shift inside when the garden closes at midnight. (photo)

Radegast
113 N. 3rd Street, Brooklyn, NY 11211
Get ready for a bustling summer at this traditional beer hall, which opened last fall a few blocks from Bedford. Come for a open-air (thanks to a retractable roof) beer garden and stay for the bratwurst and braised rabbit. (photo)

Dumont
432 Union Avenue, Brooklyn, NY 11211
Open for lunch and dinner during the week and brunch on the weekends, this spot is perfect for enjoying a beer or a Bloody Mary al fresco. Grab a seat at one of the wooden tables if you're eating or sit at the bar.

Juliette
135 N. 5th Street, Brooklyn, NY 11211
Upstairs at this two-floor French restaurant is a spacious bar and café tables. With a touch of foliage and the opportunity to follow your Côtes du Rhône with a plate of French fries, it's enough to make you forget the occasionally poor service.

Huckleberry Bar
588 Grand Street, Brooklyn, NY 11211
Recently chosen as TONY's Food Awards' Best New Bar, this black leather booth-lined spot looks more fitting for the Lower East Side than Grand Street. Perhaps its best quality is its large outdoor garden with a handful of wooden booths surrounded by neighboring backyards.

Relish
225 Wythe Avenue, Brooklyn, NY 11211
This resident Williamsburg brunch spot has one of the largest back gardens in the neighborhood. It's also manned by a likeable waitstaff; just be wary of the wait, because it's pretty crowded during prime dining hours.

Stain Bar
766 Grand Street, Brooklyn, NY 11211
While this bar's artsy vibe may put some off, its back garden is worth a visit. Drinks are cheap, and if you bring your own meat, you can use the grill. (photo)

Harefield Road
769 Metropolitan Avenue, Brooklyn, NY 11211
The back garden at this unpretentious neighborhood pub is a perfect spot to spend a long summer night. Order a pint and hang out on it outdoors all night long (or at least until the bar's 4a.m. closing time). (photo)

Fette Sau
354 Metropolitan, Brooklyn, NY 11211
You'll find the best BBQ and whiskey selection in Williamsburg at this less-than-a-year-old restaurant. Lining the entrance are outdoor picnic tables where you can drink (and eat) to your heart's content. (photo)

Minnie Mouse, Underwear, and More [China]

Alisa Gould-Simon — Wed, 30 Apr 2008 14:00:19 EDT

Slate Magazine has a photo that may be more disturbing than the Annie Leibovitz shoot of Miley Cyrus for Vanity Fair: a Disney underwear ad by way of China. The handpuppet-infested image is after the jump.

Slate asked Disney's Spokesperson Patti McTeague about the ad, but she passed on commenting. Instead, Disney consumer-products spokesperson Gary Foster disavowed the image, saying "It has caught us by surprise. "

Saint-Germain's Sweetest Spots [Paris]

Lauren Elkin — Wed, 30 Apr 2008 12:55:51 EDT

Every so often a book is published that makes you ask yourself: how much weight did the author put on researching it? Jamie Cahill, author of the recently published Pâtisseries of Paris, has compiled the city's best pastry shops, bakeries, ice cream shops, chocolatiers, and salons de thé. Many of them happen to be concentrated in Saint-Germain, which has a sort of cruel irony to it, as this former intellectual nerve center of Paris has undergone a transformation in the last 10 years to become the center of a very expensive, very chic fashion scene, putting the Rive Gauche in YSL. But it's time you learned the sublime tension of consuming millefeuilles while not gaining mille poids. Cahill's publicist, by the way, reassures us that even after four years of this research, plus a professional pâtissier's course, plus two children, Cahill has managed to stay a size 2. "But that's another story," we are told. So, Jamie? What's the story? We'd love to know.

L'Artisan de Saveurs
72 rue du Cherche-Midi 75006 Paris
This salon de thé is the home of Cahill's dream dessert, the pain de Gênes: "two almond-sprinkled cake triangles with a luscious slathering of lemon cream in between." Cahill informs us that "desserts are serious here," which means that a pear charlotte is "spiced up with pain d'épices" and a plain old blanc manger gets an "update" with coconut and exotic fruit. Serious tea is on offer to go with the serious desserts.

La Bonbonnière de Buci
12 rue de Buci 75006 Paris
This unassuming little "candybox" in the heart of Saint-Germain claims to make the best palmiers (flaky, buttery pastries shaped like elephants' ears) in Paris. Cahill is willing to grant him this, and extends his mastery to all buttery viennoiseries. Reason enough for us to go.

Christian Constant
37 rue d'Assas 75006 Paris
He's the chocolate guy of Saint-Germain, Christian Constant is. He's also Sonia Rykiel's chocolate guy, Cahill informs us — a quaint case of Saint-Germain businesses supporting one another. Cahill is most impressed by his flavored ganaches: "cardamon, frangipani flowers, or Chinese ginger, to name a few," and also mentions his chocolate tarte as being his most "revered" creation.

Le Confiturier
20 rue du Cherche-Midi 75006 Paris
This café/salon de thé, Cahill says, is "one of the few spots in Paris where you can have a thick slab of brioche, served with jams and butter, at any time of day," which is amazing in a country that is so strict about when it is proper to eat and drink what. Breakfast in the afternoon? Sounds so American, and so tempting...

Les Deux Magots
6 place St Germain 75006 Paris
Huh? Wasn't this place relegated to the bottom of the barrel, a tourist trap through and through, regardless of who used to sip coffee here? The overpriced drinks and fare, the terminally un-hip German tourists, the rude waitstaff — why is this in Cahill's dreamy pastel Paris confection? "This famous cafe has delicious desserts!" she insists. "I can vouch that reviews of mediocre, overpriced food do not apply to the desserts," she promises, and goes on the recommend "lemon, mirabelle, or apricot pistachio tarts, chocolate entremets, a raspberry vanilla cream cake, a Mont Blanc, or chocolate éclair." Well— maybe it's worth a try.

Poilâne
8 rue du Cherche Midi 75006 Paris
One of Paris's most well-known bakeries, founded in 1932 and famous for its round loaves of sourdough, Cahill calls her readers' attention to the bakery's butter cookies and apple tarts, mentioning in particular the questionably named Punitions ("punishments") — "bite-sized, crumbly sables" — which Cahill notes are usually in a "help yourself" basket on the counter. And the apple tart is "truly special."

Debriefer: Gridskipper Turned Coutorturer Megan Zanke [Interviews]

Brittany Bellgardt — Wed, 30 Apr 2008 12:30:11 EDT

Megan Zanke is known throughout the pages of this site, but she's moved on to work as an editor of Coutorture — a fantastic fashion-centered website with bite. While she definitiely knows a thing or two about fashion, Megan also knows a thing or two about being young and hitting the streets of New York.

We're going to imprison you in the city of your choice for the rest of your natural life. You can do anything you want there, but you must stay in that city forever. Where would you choose?
So Gawker really is going to take over the world, eh? Okay, I choose South Beach. Only kidding! I choose New York, of course.

Why would you live in this city forever and not somewhere else?
When I graduated from NYU I went to London to study design. I was there for a year and whenever I went to a café or the market, met a friend for a drink, some part of me would register it as, like, 'This is me doing this thing in London. Here I am, living my London life.' It, of course, wasn't always like this. I guess the point is that in New York that discord doesn't exist. I reckon what makes you a "native" (of any city) is when the novelty wears off. That sounds kind of bleak but it isn't. Someone has to be the city and someone has to be on the big red bus, taking pictures.

In what part of the city would you reside?
I would live, as New Yorkers say, 'on the Bowery'. It's probably the ugliest street in Lower Manhattan but that's precisely the point. And I get that loads of posh people have lived there over the years, that isn't the draw. The draw is its geographic position. Bowery is a street that is crossed. On Bowery you are the official downtown vagabond. You can enjoy the assets of each of the four neighborhoods you border, without the liabilities. You've also completely beat the gentrification game which is, perhaps, its ultimate selling point. Nothing is more ungraceful than the "I was here first" monologue. If you can escape that greedy feeling, spare yourself (and your friends) the "Looky here, there's a ______ moving into my neighborhood" then you've just added years to your life.

Where and what would you eat?
When I'm alone, I like to eat at Café Gitane. They have a view of the last trees left standing in lower Manhattan and they don't let you make substitutions. There's a Reisling on their wine list that made me think Reisling was dry, not sweet. That restaurant is full of tricks and idiosyncrasies and I like that. When I'm with just one other person I'll go to Le French Diner. The food is outstanding and there are only about six seats so no one really ever tries to go there. People must assume that there are already six people eating there but I've realized that that there are only four people eating there and two seats left for you. When you've been corralled into a larger group, eating outside is a major, major bonus and Epistrophy is your only hope. It's the kind of place where you can sit down with one other person and coyly let six more join your table without much trouble.

What would you do for fun?
In the summer, I go to all of the Bryant Park films. It's funny that it used to be the one of the most dangerous parks in New York. Now they have wireless and petanque classes. Last summer, I'd head over around four and write from there until the rest of my friends got out of work. We'd drink wine and eat expensive things from the new Whole Foods and then maybe go out together afterward. The thing I like about New Yorkers, especially young New Yorkers, is that we're working twelve hour days and then manifest the wherewithal to hang out and drink wine and talk about things. You know, we're really tired most of the time but it doesn't stop us. We still dance, we still get dressed up, we still watch Some Like It Hot even though we secretly think it's boring, we still buy twenty five dollars worth of cheese even though it may cause our rent checks to bounce. We're the kind of people that really push things to their limit. That's always been the spirit of the city, I think.

Where would you go for a night on the town?
I suppose the night would start with some kind of event or party. The good thing about these sorts of things (and that's about as specific as I can be because the range is quite vast) is that they bridge the gap between work and play quite nicely. In fact, Coutorture's running a weekly feature of events called Coutorture Cocktails for this purpose. The thing is, first you're yammering about the medium, meeting new people, smiling at them and really letting them have it with your famous "this is the age of _____" speech, and then, you reach for a second cocktail and all of a sudden something shifts. You grab your companion's elbow, you slip out of the door, you're in a different neighborhood than usual so you dine somewhere out of the norm. That's really the best way to start the night if you ask me.
If we were in the West Village, we might go to Delicia. It's this little Brazilian restaurant on West 11th. All the foodies know it, in fact, it's kind of old news but it's a wild little place and you can eat well for very little and sit outside. West Eleventh is quiet so you can reach some semblance of conversational depth before the night gets too messy. Around midnight or so there's usually some dancing involved. Some of my friends are making music and DJ-ing disco, so we might end up at 205 or Tribeca Grand. If not, you know, there might be a party and, dare I say it, Beatrice is always really fun.

What kind of shops are worth going to?
When I first moved to New York I would purposefully walk down 2nd street so that I could pause at the window of the John Derian shop. I still really love that shop. Anyone that builds an empire from decoupage is okay in my book. There's an amazing vintage store on Stanton called Dulcinee. The owner keeps a full-size run of vintage Ferregamo boots (surprisingly hard to find) against the back wall. There's also a book shop in the West Village that I really love. I think it might be called Bookleaves. Anyway, it's near The Corner Bistro. I only go in for voyeuristic purposes. The owner always has some neighborhood grannies telling him their problems. He also plays classical music, which is hard to find in a shop these days, you know, unless you count Dean and Deluca.

And on the flip side: What city would you never, ever visit again, if you had a choice?
Er, maybe I shouldn't be saying this. I choose Wales. Okay, yes, this is an entire country. It is also a country of which I am a citizen. You know, eff it. It's green and sprawling, yes, but so is the drive from where I grew up to the reservoir on the other side of town. I can't say much else about Wales except that...no, I can't say much else about it.

As Editor of Coutorture, you've got to know a thing or two about fashion; what is your favorite look for the summer months? What can we expect to see everyone donning?
No matter what the press tells you, everyone will not be donning the same thing (thank heavens). To narrow it down, I'll say that downtown in New York the major trends for girls will be jodhpurs, Southwestern prints (thanks to many independent brands) and leopard prints (thanks to A.P.C.), high waist garments, anything that evokes New York in the 1970's (does this ever go out of style?), boyfriend jeans (rolled at the bottom), nerd shorts (baggy, pleated khaki shorts), and Persol 714s. I don't know what the vendors on St. Marks are going to do with all of those Wayfarer rip offs. I guess they'll be hoping for Risky Business costumes come Halloween.

As a fine purveyor of fashiony-goodness, I bet you have a fantastic closet, brimming with amazing pieces — what is the one article of clothing that you cannot live without?
There are two. High-waist shorts and riding boots.

You just worked on "The One Train", a breathtaking Coutorture original editorial shoot; it is highly cinematic and very striking — what was the inspiration behind this shoot?
Put simply, it was about the transition between winter and spring. We thought of layers being peeled off, the emersion from underground, the beams of light that pour in, that wake us up. Julie and I had been to a press preview earlier that week in which we were shown the Steinunn collection. We just thought the details were really fabulous and would work well given that our photographer, Wayne Liu, shoots black and white film. Liu, then, is responsible for the cinema aspect. He doesn't usually shoot fashion but we liked his style and didn't think it mattered much. Steinunn saw the images and wants to work with him now so, you know, maybe we were right about it not mattering.

And finally: Karl Lagerfeld or John Galliano?
John Galliano. I'll let the end of this video speak for itself. Where Lagerfeld gives soundbites about ipods and Amy Winehouse, Galliano's stage left with one camera, completely loaded, talking (and designing) in technicolor.

Carolina Herrera or Vivienne Westwood?
Carolina Herrera if only because she's the best example of a powerful woman who's still very ladylike. I think that's really who she designs for too. She, like Oscar de la Renta, designs clothes that make women look really, really beautiful and this quality is not as common as you would think.

Victor and Rolf or Proenza Schouler?
Every girl my age would probably opt for a Proenza frock or pair of trousers if it were between that and something by Victor and Rolf. But the thing about Victor and Rolf that's very easy to forget is that the theatrics are mostly peripheral (and they are fantastic), the clothes are actually just as chic as Proenza. You know, pretty dresses, pencil skirts, little jackets and silk blouses. It's really accessible stuff. Victor and Rolf are marked proof that clothes are only part of the deal.

Open Water and Broken Beds in Miami Beach [Miami Beach]

Victor Ozols — Wed, 30 Apr 2008 12:09:18 EDT

We were in Miami Beach last week, a couple of New Yorkers looking for balmy weather, pretty scenery, and stiff drinks, same as anybody. Through a combination of zealous planning and happy accidents, Jenn and I found all that and more, and most of it was better than we had anticipated. For us, Miami Beach was the perfect balance of action and chillout time, with an open-water kayak adventure followed by some cocktails and a couple hours of horizontal relaxation on the beach: yin and yang coming together harmoniously in South Florida. Miami is hardly uncharted territory, and there's no shortage of tourist information and guidebook coverage, but since we had such a grand time and didn't blow too much money, I'd like to share a few highlights and tips I gleaned while digging the scene in South Beach.

Once a "Hip Miami South Beach Hotel" called the Strand Ocean Drive snapped up my $165-a-night bid for four nights, we were in business. The hotel is comprised of four art deco buildings on Ocean Drive between 10th and 11th streets, and at the moment, which building you're in makes all the difference. Since we were checking in with a scarlet P (for Priceline) on our reservation, we wound up in the Retro building. The room itself was quite posh, but it had a view of an alley and a parking garage on one side, and a construction site on the other. After being assured that the hotel was booked for the night and another room wasn't available, we decided to give it a chance, unpacked our bags, and took a stroll through town.

We started with a cheap but satisfying meal at the nearby 11th Street Diner (we're New Yorkers after all), and then headed up Washington Avenue, a surprisingly scuzzy street thick with tattoo parlors, smoke shops, and souvenir stores with mannequins that looked like sex dolls wearing thongs that said "shut up and lick it." Every beach town, no matter how chic, has its seedy side. But we did eventually reach the tony part of South Beach in the pedestrian thoroughfare of Lincoln Road. Lincoln Road is essentially an outdoor strip mall, but a fancy one, with plenty of attractive options for alfresco dining and drinking. It's also a nice place to stroll through and not buy anything at all, but simply take in the nonstop fashion show and beauty contest.

Back at the room later that evening, our attempts at amorousness were interrupted by our bed collapsing beneath us. The bed was essentially a futon mattress over a low, slatted wooden frame, and a couple of the ribs had somehow slipped out of their grooves, leaving us to claw our way out of a mini-mattress sinkhole. It was both sad and funny, and since changing rooms wasn't an option, we made the best of it.

What wasn't funny was the ungodly construction noise at 7:00 the next morning. It came from the Clevelander hotel next door, which is currently being gutted. Power saws and pneumatic concrete blasters made it impossible to sleep, and it quickly became a matter of either changing rooms or ditching the hotel altogether, even though it was paid for up front. Fortunately, a sympathetic desk manager named Ashley was able to move us to a room in the Contemporary building later that afternoon, and our trip instantly got about twenty times better. Perhaps it was that broken bed that got us the coveted upgrade.

True to their marketing, the Strand Ocean Drive really is a stylish hotel. The suites have futuristic-looking Luminaire furniture, Flos lighting fixtures, tidy kitchenettes with full-size refrigerators, flat-screen TVs (which get the Bravo channel, as Jenn quickly discovered), H20+ bath products, and rainfall shower heads that make you feel like a rich person as you do your daily ablutions. We dug it. After enjoying a swim in the stellar rooftop pool (I do love a pool with a view), we toasted our good fortune in our new suite with a couple of Campari and sodas with lime. (A tip of the glass to the liquor store on 11th Street and the Art Deco Supermarket on Washington, both grimy places that had everything we needed.)

That evening, my nerdy tourist fantasies came true as we boarded the Island Queen for a 90-minute sunset cruise through the islands of Biscayne Bay. The affable narrators pointed out the celebrity mansions, and we ogled homes owned by such luminaries as Oprah, Diddy, Shaq, Gloria Estefan, Al Capone, and Vanilla Ice. You know who had the biggest and most opulent estate? The inventor of Viagra, Dr. Simon Campbell. The narrator made the "raising the bar" joke twice, in case we missed it the first time. Also, Alicia Keys has a big yacht named Alicia moored in front of her house.

The Island Queen was perfect, because the very next morning we rented kayaks from South Beach Kayak and paddled past many of the same houses we had seen on our cruise. We would have never known which houses belonged to celebrities without the benefit of the previous day's narration. We would have never been able to holla at Lil John, not that he heard us.

The weather was perfect and the seas were calm. We happily paddled past Belle Island, Rivo Alto Island, and Di Lido Island; looped around Hibiscus Island; skirted Star Island; and even made a stop at sandy, uninhabited Monument Island to snap some photos and guzzle some water before heading back to Island View Park to return the boats. In all, it was roughly a four-mile paddle (according to Ana Marie, the owner of South Beach Kayak), and we felt terrific having done it. I can't recommend the kayak trip enough, because sometimes you've just got to float.

We had dinner that night at the loud and festive Taverna Opa. As we feasted on delicious Greek-style octopus, snapper, and salmon, and guzzled white wine from Santorini, we talked about which of our friends could hack the kayak trip, and which would be best left on dry land.

The next morning, I made another discovery: The place to get your morning caffeine fix in South Beach is Yogo Cafe on 11th between Collins and Ocean. I brought a couple of well-made Segafredo Zanetti cappuccinos ($2.75 apiece) and some chocolate croissants back to the room, and we woke up on our own time.

Then we hit the beach like we were supposed to, and did some serious relaxing. Our $12.50-per-day resort fee got us a couple of lounge chairs and an umbrella, and we enjoyed a day of sun, sand, and surf at one of the world's most famous beaches. It's true what they say on those softcore Travel Channel shows: there's no shortage of uncovered flesh in South Beach, and the bodies on display were generally quite fit. I sucked in my gut more than once. But it was all good. The sunshine and Campari drained us of all our remaining city stresses, and we rode out the week like a gentle wave, wandering from beach to pool to bar to restaurant without a care in the world.

Latest & Greatest [Openings]

Debbie Lee — Wed, 30 Apr 2008 12:00:00 EDT

Fred Segal Green, Los Angeles. (photo: L.A. Times)

Atlanta
• Straits: Bay Area chef Chris Yeo teams up with Ludacris to open an East Coast branch of his sophisticated Asian fusion restaurant.

Boston
• Orinoco: South End Venezuelan restaurant opens a new location in Brookline Village.

Chicago
• Angels & Mariachis: A two-story taqueria and "rock cantina" opened on Monday in the East Village.
• Veerasway: New restaurant in the Warehouse District offers Indian small plates by chef Angela Lee.
• Zed 451: New River North restaurant served global fare made with seasonal market products.

Dallas
• Orange Cup: Beating Pinkberry to the punch, UT Austin grads establish a fro-yo shop at Northpark Center.
• So Rene Spa: An alternative to mega-spas, this one-room facility has personalized, attentive service and a range of beauty treatments.

London
• Content: Calling itself "the U.K.'s first luxury beauty boutique with a conscience," this new shop stocks certified organic beauty care for women, men, and babies.
• The Punch Bowl Pub: Guy Ritchie and partners refurbish a Mayfair Pub that dates back to the 1750's.

Los Angeles
• A Bathing Ape: The newest boutique for this Japanese streetwear label is causing a frenzy on Melrose.
• Delancey: New Italian gastropub in Hollywood promises to bring a New York vibe to the West Coast.
• Father's Office: Santa Monica gastropub, known for its burgers and craft brewed beers, opens a new location in Culver City.
• Fred Segal Green: Fred Segal opens a 1,200 square-foot home and lifestyle shop for green shoppers.

Miami
• Me: A private gym in Wynwood offers one-on-one training and countless perks: laundry service, flat-screen TVs, and even car washing services.

New York
• Bourbon Street Bar and Grille: New Midtown restaurant is an homage to New Orleans' French Quarter; expect po' boys, local brews and beads.
• Elizabeth: The former executive chef and chef de cuisine of Country are serving up Mediterranean fare at the former Rialto.
• Mastiha: Greek beauty care brand opens its first U.S. boutique in the Lower East Side.

Philadelphia
• Goodburger: NYC burger joint opens a Philly outpost on Chestnut St.
• Zahav: A long-awaited, modern Israeli restaurant opens next week.

San Francisco
• Pampas: Churrascaria in Palo Alto serves Brazilian-style barbecue.
• Tuttimelon: Yet another fro-yo shop opens, this time in the Marina.
• Uva Enoteca: A new destination for charcuterie and Italian wines opens in the Lower Haight.

Washington D.C.
• Bungalow Homewares: New home emporium in Alexandria stocks eco-friendly furnishings and accessories.
• Ginger: Bethesda womenswear boutique stocks labels like Trovata and Linda Loudermilk.
• Tackle Box: New sustainable seafood restaurant bills itself as the area's first lobster shack.