Dior Spring '08

Ugh. Seriously?

Kris Van Assche bores me to tears. I want Hedi back.

Thom Is The New Tom

I'm gonna go ahead and say it: Thom Browne is the new Tom Ford.

Only less annoying and more interesting. I saw him on the subway once and I thought, "That man is either poor, crazy, or wearing a Thom Browne suit."

Now I want to marry him.

Dior Homme

Buy me all of this. Thanks.

White Chalk

Just when you think she can't get any more amazing...

Seriously. This album is brilliant.

I'm feeling really fragile and hung-over today. I'm going to listen to this and cry a whole lot.

Menagerie

Max is surprised. “That guy? Really?”

“Yeah, totally.”

“Huh.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“I’m telling you. I don’t have a type. It runs the gamut.”

There’s a pause. “They kind of all look like woodland creatures.”

“What do you mean?”

“Kind of shaggy and scruffy.”

“Yeah, I guess I like guys who look sorta...”

“Mammalian!”

“...like animals.”

Too Much Birthday

This is kinda how I feel right now.

This Week...

Thursday. Friday. Saturday. Sunday.

This weekend just might kill me.

Who's a Hot Mess?

Hot Mess last night. I'm crippled by some kind of weird phantom hangover today. Which is weird, because I didn't really drink that much.

Sometimes I take photos of myself before leaving the house. You know, just to make sure. That's Thomas on the right, a.k.a. Lusty Charms, our little Irish go-go boy. We had a contest where some dudes got up on the bar and competed for a date with him. I picked the contestants.

Lady K and...uh, that guy. Tranny gots to beat 'em off with a stick, I'm tellin' you. And Logan being Logan. As Logan as he can be.

And the boys were cute too. Lil' Presto (a.k.a. Jason Preston, the former Mrs. Marc Jacobs) brought one of the Pussycat Dolls. She was cute, but I don't think anyone was star struck. On the left: Kirk, whose life has been ruined by Harry Potter. On the right: Ben Andrews, porn star, and possibly more well known that that Pussycat Doll, at least at this party.

FYI: Tommy Hottpants was bartending for us and let me just say that I want to bite him. Everywhere. Like, everywhere on his body. And also, everywhere in the world.

Mika

Using an essentially queer, Post-structuralist concept like the rejection of labels to excuse your reticence to come out of the closet because of the negative affect it may have on your marketability and money making potential? Lame.

Unisex Salon: Acid Crisis Center

This is where you should be tonight. You're on Lusty J's list!

No One Belongs Here More Than You

You should read this book right now. And then comment about it here. It'll be like a book club. Like Oprah's, only way more nihilistic.

Our first title is a quirky collection of short stories by performing artist and filmmaker Miranda July. I think "Birthmark" is my fave. What's yours and why?

Nearly Perfect Lemon Risotto

Nearly perfect lemon risotto is no small feat.

So why can't I make you love me?

Boneyard

Have you forgotten me?

Reasons I'm Glad I Didn't Go to the Black Party

Last night, I briefly toyed with the possibility of making a late appearence at the Black Party. Like, 4 a.m. late, when the price drops for boys under 26. I'm glad I didn't. And here's why:

1) 4 a.m. is a retarded hour to start partying.

2) $40 - let alone $140 - is a retarded amount to charge for a cover.

3) HX Magazine's Black Party Commandments.

4) Someone OD'd last night. It wasn't me!

5) Someone got HIV last night. It wasn't me!

6) I didn't really want to dance and make out with sweaty 40-something year-old tourists, did I?

7) This.

Photo by Joe Oppedisano.

Unisex Salon

Starting this Thursday night, I'm officially hosting at Unisex Salon at the Delancey. So, come on out and have a drink with me and Acid Betty and John Cameron Mitchell and the gang. Michael Musto will be reading from his new book and there's some bands and open bar from 10-11pm. Tell 'em you're on Lusty J's list for $5 cover all night! I swear to God I'll make out with you if you come.

PREF: Random Acts

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RIP Roxy

So, I thought I was really sad about the Roxy closing its doors this Saturday night. Not that I ever went to the Roxy except once or twice for Motherfucker. But it just seemed like the Roxy should be there. That great cavernous space filled with shirtless Chelsea boys every Saturday night has been a part of New York clubland for over a decade, and its demise at the hands of real estate developers is just another sign that the city is heading toward something dim and homogenous and really depressing. It seemed a little bit like a tragedy.

Then I read this article in today's New York Times and realized that the Roxy already symbolized something dim and homogenous and really depressing:

The clubgoers were in their 20s and 30s. Most had short hair or shaved heads. They wore low-slung jeans, sneakers or work boots, and faux-vintage T-shirts that bore the insignias of athletic departments that don’t exist...A good number of men on the dance floor went with a bare-chested look. This typically included barbed-wire tattoos encircling their biceps, dog tags around their necks and baseball caps with curved bills, such that a visitor unaware of the event taking place might have thought he had walked onto a set where somebody was reshooting the volleyball scene from “Top Gun.”

Where will we go to find tweeked out pseudo-straight Jersey boys now?

Valentine's Day Resolutions

Armistead Maupin’s More Tales of the City, one of my all time favorite books, opens with Michael “Mouse” Tolliver’s 30 Valentine’s Day Resolutions. This year, I’m taking Maupin’s cue. Because while I may not really be celebrating Valentine’s Day in the traditional sense, I still kind of like the idea of the holiday. So I’m thinking about what I want to improve upon – or at least do differently – in 2007. Hopefully next year conditions will have improved…

Valentine’s Day Resolutions

1. Message those cute guys on MySpace. It can’t hurt, right?

2. Buy more cute underwear.

3. Buy red sheets.

4. Three words: abs, arms, butt. Work on those.

5. Stop comparing my life to Grey’s Anatomy, Sex and the City, or similarly chick focused television drama.

6. Attempt to slightly overestimate my own hotness. Because confidence is sexy.

7. Stop letting my love/sex life distract me from frustrations with career trajectory.

8. Only date guys who are at least as oversexed as I am.

9. Be a little more secretive. No need for everyone to know what’s going on.

10. Stop expecting love to change my life.

Happy V-Day!

Image by Matthew Brindle

Style Jack

Did anyone read my short-lived column, Style Jack, on SeeJackShop.com? Does anyone read SeeJackShop.com? We may never know. Anyway, click the image above to read my profiles of iconic men of style.

Fall 2007 Menswear

Woo! It's Fashion Week here in New York, but I'm still sifting through the looks from the European Menswear shows. Check it:

Alexander McQueen.
Balenciaga.
Burberry Prorsum
Costume Nationale
Dior Homme
Dolce & Gabbana
Gucci
Of course, I can't afford any of this, so if you want to send me free clothes you are more than welcome to do so.