Archive for July 2012

“Ospiti, ma quali ospiti?” – The Nightfox, Ocean’s 12.

Vincent Cassel plays Eurotrash playboy with nothing better to do but Thomas Crown hard, every day. I love watching Ocean’s 12 just for his European cockiness that only decadence can afford. James Bond type.

Danny Ocean visits the Nightfox a few times in the film at his gargantuan villa in Lake Como. The location exists in real life. The 15th century Villa Erba, once vacation home of Luchino Visconti, has made my ‘Eurotrash Places’ list. If Europe is any better than North America for one thing, it’s the prevalence of villas. No Malibu estate comes close. No real housewife of Jersey can beat a Duchess. Private vineyards that have been around for centuries – you can’t put a price on antiquity.

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This look is what I like to call, full nerdin’ fashion. For one, I used to wear these glasses out in public, everywhere. Nostalgia is to blame for their presence here. Black Keys concert t-shirt. Vintage Arsenio Hall blazer, at least doubled the size of my actual shoulders in a winter white. Another vintage find: long culottes, high waisted from Europe – Rome, I think. Wore my Gucci clogs, not depicted here, because my iPhone has the range of a photo booth, circa 1993, Yorkdale Shopping Mall on a Friday night with your buddies.

Please, someone tell me a DSLR is a better investment than a Balenciaga.

Drinks at the Met rooftop in Preen and Zac Posen. Illustration by Lacee Swan

Because most cities don’t have beaches and Nelly coined, “Penthouse, rooftop, birds I’m feeding.” The nouveau riche flock to the tops of buildings. For some reason, like being seated royally on a high, high throne, elevation is an index of social class. Just look down at those looking up in admiration, do a little twirl and curtsy, amiright?

Toronto has certainly seen its own rooftop resurgence. In fact, I’m writing this post from my own rooftop right now. Cheeky.

The Thompson Hotel, Ultra-cum-Cube, Panorama, The Trump, The Park Hyatt, The Drake Sky Yard, Remy’s, Vivoli and The CN Tower Skywalk – what? It counts in my books!

First thing’s first, though. Just cause we’re moving above sea level doesn’t mean the same land rules apply up here. I mean, have you ever seen someone try to get away with spending six dollars on a beer at a rooftop bar? Um, hello, everything costs more as the altitude changes. The higher up you go, well, you know the drill. So pack those hundos if you want to survive the 60-storey luxury mark-up.

Here are the unofficial Eurotrash rules to rooftop etiquette, inspired by people who are evidently better than you:

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I wonder what Lapo Elkann smells like. That’s the first thing that comes to mind when I see pictures of him. Musky? Fruity? A little touch of woodchuck mixed with a fresh shave? Lemons?

He could be a synesthetic experience, I think. An inspiration to men of lesser pedigree, however, with looser ties to couture. His favourite hang out is the Palazzo Pitti and his favourite way to accessorize is with an automobile. Of course, FIAT runs through his blood. How many people own his 500 in Woodbridge alone?

Thought so.

We could stand to learn a bit from his proclivity for mint suits. Hair tamed by gel or unleashed upon the masses like a lion’s mane. And of course, of course, of course: FULL DANDY IN EFFECT!

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Three blind mice. In this case, my VISA hears no evil and sees no evil. The first specimen is Kanye West for Giuseppe Zanotti all-beaded shoes (Luisa Via Roma, $6323.01). Like that extra penny counts. I love the chunky ankle straps to hide my canks behind. (NB: Cankles have now been abbreviated to canks). The second pair are Prabal Gurung Resort 2013 shoes designed by Nicholas Kirkwood and would look so glam with a suntan, coral toes, throw dem bows. Last pair are also Kirkwood – only for his eponymous shoe line, also Resort 2013 (Moda Operandi, $995). A green spotted animal was not harmed in the making of them.

I should preface this post by telling you that I have a deep admiration for Woody Allen. His comedy, in my opinion, is so accidentally ingenious. The stutters in his performance, the dry jokes that only turn out to be hilarious with a 5 second time delay, his face. Just a neurotic man trying to make us laugh at a New York aesthetic he has, by now, coined to the point of a cliche’.

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Every now and then, I grace my readers with a poorly taken photograph from instagram using my iPhone. We can’t all be Leandra Medine! So, here’s what I wore just last week on a casual Friday evening in Yorkville – not my favourite place but hey, it was hot enough to stand the usual douche-bag protocol one must adopt if you want to fit in. Nothing is more douchey than freshly shaven legs and a pair of clogs. It says, “I’d rather be in the Riviera than be within 50-feet of your garlic breath.”

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I’ve been meaning to write this post for some time now. “Hey, retail stores in the flesh! You’d better start putting those price tags in visible areas lest you want to be swallowed up by the Internet,” – and I’ve been wanting to say that for a while.

Here’s the thing. You walk into a highbred retail store – not H&M; more Holts, TNT or Intermix and don’t even get me started on Gucci – you see something you like; a little delectable treat, perhaps. Bags are the number one worst for this. Modesty, or a tight budget, a shopper’s natural reflex is to look at the price (or, in this case, try to find it).

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A$AP mob. I see a bit of Givenchy in there. This could also be a Calvin Klein ad campaign. Just sayin’ 

Whatever, he’s a rapper. Again, another great find by Dragnet Magazine‘s Lauren M. He has gold teeth and drives some pimped out car I can’t even pronounce around Paris in his music video for Goldie. Love his Commes des Fuckdown hat and PIGALLE shirt. Like, he could be Parisian. If you see his street style, like the full fur vest he wore on a 106 & Park appearance, you wonder if he has been transported from the Tuileries to NYC  à la Zac Posen coming home all grown up from Paris with big boy style.

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If you’ve had some of the bestest moments of your life on one of these, you’re eurotrash.