Sample Sales: Joomi Lim, Y-3, Fred Perry

JOOMI LIM_

Once in a blue moon, the New York-based and breakout company Joomi Lim throws a private sample sale for the friends and family of the jewelry house. In honor of the upcoming holidays and the air of gift hunt frustration that seems to permeate these streets, the husband and wife duo behind this line marked EVERYTHING (including current collection) down to 70% off retail price. On top of that, they made sure the shopping experience among their friends and family was as personal and personable as possible.

Maggie and I arrived at the undisclosed Chelsea location perhaps a little too early, but Xavier (the husband half of the duo) filled our waiting void by serving us complimentary white wine. (Hell. Yes.) We perused through the signature spikes, boxed and queen bee chains from the house's current collection. The rings from this collection were priced between $30-$40; the spike bracelets and necklaces up to $90. (Somehow remembered that because that was one of the items Maggie bought.) Items from the spring collection, including the heavily publicized fringe necklaces, were sold to customers at wholesale price.

The items I ended up walking away with came from the bargain of the bargain bins: archived pieces which consisted of some of the very last items of each collection spanning back to the first. This bunch had $10 bangle sets, $20 crystal rings, $40 spiked square bangles, and perhaps none priced higher. I found it endearing that both Joomi and Xavier took the initiative to encourage everyone to try on the jewelry, provided background on the pieces and price checks, and direct us to where the deals really are. Loosely quoted from Joomi, "You guys, Bergdorf's still selling this at a much higher cost."

Unlike many personal sales I've attended, what separated this from the rest was the complimentary wining and dining. Sushi and wine filled the bellies of those who forgot to eat dinner and/or didn't mind getting a little buzzed thrown in with a shopper's high. Gestures like this boast high acclaim in my book.








Below, my new favorite bracelet - which I mod with a bunch of hair ties lying around. Now the challenge is to try and not to stab myself with it.



(Although this sale was one-day only, they are hosting another holiday sale this Saturday, Dec. 10th, with other New York jewelry designers. At 119 W 8th Street IN BROOKLYN** from 12 p.m. - 6 p.m.)

**make sure you go into Brooklyn and not Harlem for this one!

Y-3_



I found out about this sample sale right before I went to bed last night, and after reading what would be in store for all the lucky New Yorkers, excitement kept me from falling asleep. After waking up bright and early to get to this sale right when the doors opened, I discovered that I wasn't the only one shaking and on the brink of implosion from $50 Y-3 footwear (usually between $200-500). Shoppers were congregating like cattle in tiny elevator lobby of the Adidas superstore on Houston, waiting for the security guy to escort them into the showroom. Pretty sure I got some smug looks from those standing next to me - as if I wanted the $10 swimming trunks. (You could have those, fella.) And next to me stood a lady who, with no shame, explicitly stated that she's going to flip these for profit. Quite a mix we had here.

Because I was in a hurry to get to the Fred Perry sale (and was originally supposed to meet a friend there but that fell through), I went straight for the shoes and then to the womenswear. All shoes were marked down to ridiculously low prices - notably $50 for Y-3 lo and hi-tops (originally in the $300 price range), and the highest $75 for the cut-out wedged heels. The sale also includes the recent SLVR line (genius designs and probably my favorite) and Originals, and even those were generously marked down. Prices on the overall sale range from $5 for a pair of socks to $100 on exclusive Y-3 runway exclusives. Not bad. Wish I came more prepared with a fatter wallet...

I walked away with two shirts and, more importantly, the cut-out wedges. I meant to get them in black but pulled a dumb one and just blindly took a box without checking the colorway. Turns out they didn't have any in black, except for a single shoe that was on display. I guess red will do.

(Sale resume until Thursday, Dec. 8. Located at 610 Broadway on Houston, 3rd floor.)

FRED PERRY_



I'll be honest. I was disappointed with the selection in this sale, but you can't beat the markdowns. For the Fred Perrians out there, there's still hope that the polo/cardigan/jacket of your size and style may be hiding in this ~private~ sample sale, but it involves combing through the racks. Luckily, it's one not of those sample sales where it looks like someone dropped a bomb into a clothing warehouse, as everything is hanging on racks. Many items in this sale are either discontinued or are items they have in limited quantity, but are desperately trying to get rid of. All Raf Simons (though all in size small) are $40 flat, polos are $30, outerwear is $100, and Richard Nicol and Amy Winehouse are 50% off marked price. All I got (and want for now) was the mesh Raf polo in orange/black.

Be warned that you have to get off the ACE line and walk some way towards the Hudson River to get to this sale. And make sure to sign the e-mail list so you can be personally informed on the showroom's future sales.

(547 West 27th Street, 3rd floor. Sale ends Thursday, December 8; hours are 10 a.m. - 7 p.m.)

Post-Thanksgiving Staycation.

STAYCATION. That word rolls off the tongue like the hiss of steam in a sauna bath, and dedicating one night to do so surely felt like being in one. Thanksgiving weekend entailed a mass exodus among New Yorkers. My family doesn't celebrate Thanksgiving ("not our holiday," says dad) so I had no reason to go home, and my best friend Jess just decided to stick around this year. I was too lazy to wake up early and brave the cold for the Macy's parade (maybe next year), but we cooked and wine drank our hearts out during our orphan dinner. So that happened and then what? Day off and the weekend, might as well keep the vacation vibes going.





... can Blackberry please make better built-in cameras?


For work, Jess checked a night in at Midtown's Grand Hyatt, located right above the Grand Central Station and just a body roll away from Time Square, and she invited me to tag along. Wine me, dine me, hotel room me - I'd be crazy to say no to that. Our dining experience at New York Central, located next to the bar of the hotel, consisted of rounds of deliciously dry Ruffino wine, breads ranging from raisin to wheat, and a main course to let my mind sprawl out in gastronomy heaven. Jess got a very juicy burger with fries, and I got the apparently popular, according to the manager, scallops dish. I'm having a hard time remembering the spice mixture and overall flavor. I recall telling Jess that it did not taste like scallops at all. There was a slight toast on top of a hint of sweetness, in which the chef succeeded by throwing in chestnuts and golden raisins.







The hotel recently went through millions of dollars worth in renovations for a more modern, Midtown club look thanks to the architect house of Bentel and Bentel. They have even added a lounge which you can enter for $100 on top of your general hotel expenses. (Good one, no thanks.) The good and bad thing about the overhanging windows of the bar and restaurant area is that it overlooks 42nd street, and thus giving the feeling that you're dining al fresco. Bad, however, because I'm a major people watcher, so I'm sure Jess was a little annoyed when I stared off into the streets while she chatted away.

Jess and I retreated to her room soon after, and I proceeded to disband everything on hand and commence my hotel rituals: dive and belly smack onto the hotel bed (this hotel's comfort grade: B+), and open up the blinds to check out the view - in our case, was the side of another building and a small triangle of 42nd Street. Somehow in the heart of this city's postcard picture - the bright lights, tall skyscrapers, a bum rush of the world's people making a living - we managed to find our getaway. In my case, even if it was for a few hours (had to peace out and her boyfriend took my place), it was nice to be away from Brooklyn and just relax.

Trust me on this one.

Toronto's Trust supported Balam Acab's NYC show last Thursday and I gotta say, they were the headline of my night. Submerge yourself into some dark electronic dance by listening to "Candy Walls" and the Bulbform LP, both released by Sacred Bones. "Candy Walls" is a crooning sway that'll rock your body back and forth, while "Bulbform" whips the hips with a foggy techno sound that's abrasively hypnotic.

EAR CRUSH: ASAP ROCKY 'LIVE LOVE ASAP' MIXTAPE

Download at Datpiff.com

Get in on the "trillwave" and download ASAP Rocky's mixtape. NYC born and bred, this man converges all of hip-hop's familiar sounds, but the execution is done so well that your ears will take it in as something new. I cannot stress how good this mixtape is - hell, it's been on loop since I have downloaded it. Not only are the songs pure quality, but ASAP Rocky doesn't shy from his love of fashion and great menswear designers who are near and dear to me. "Raf Simons, Rick Owens, usually what I'm dressed in." That I can back hard.

I found out about the ASAP mob's Halloween show the day that it happened and waited too long to RSVP. (List was closed by then.) Huge fan. ASAP Rocky: if you're reading this, make sure I can attend your next gig. Guarantee I'll show up wearing all black and going ham.

"The only thing bigger than my ego is my mirror."

Great tracks: "Palace," "Wassup," "Trilla," "Bass," "Out of This World"

BEST TRACK: "Brand New Guy, feat. Schoolboy Q"**

**: heard this song drop for the first time at Terry Richardson's exhibit after-party thanks to GHE20 GOTH1K's Venus X. Girl knows how to mix it on the turntables and she's one of the few legit NYC DJs keeping parties going these days. Impending rant aside, almost dropped my drink because I was so elated.

And speaking of that party: boom shaka laka boom.

NEW MUSEUM: CARSTEN HöLLER EXPERIENCE.

Animal Group by Carsten Höller

I stumbled upon a preview article on Carsten Höller's "Experience" exhibit at the New Museum and had to check it out. For those who don't know, Höller is a Sweden-residing German artist whose extraordinary works converge his doctoral background in biology with the arts to turn his works into mice mazes to expose the nature of humans. In order to properly approach this exhibit, however, I had to succumb to the role as a lab rat.

Meticulously scattered among the four floors of the museum's studio spaces are the Mirror Carousel, Untitled - a.k.a. the three-stories slide, Experience Corridor, and Giant Psycho Tank (to name a few). Maggie, Rosie, and I wrestled with various sensory ranging from pains to curious pleasures. To slide down Untitled, no bags and cameras were allowed on the slide and you had to wear a helmet. Untitled started off calm as the first turn gently cradled me like a rocking hammock, but by the second a sharp increase of momentum whipped out of nowhere and forcing my hands against my chest became difficult. I managed to hit the padding and leaving unscathed, but some unlucky few have whacked their head or hands against the tube - during which you'd hear uncomfortable gasps echo among the neon lights. In the Experience Corrider, a certain chamber prickled my arm, and I wasn't too sure if it was right for me to giggle like a schoolgirl in this sterile environment.

Höller may be the first artist who made me feel a little more comfortable screaming, laughing, and acting in behaviors usually uncouth in a museum setting. But for others, doing so "on display" may have been nerve-wrecking. As Höller's lab rats, we are revealed of our own foolery, but also facets of happiness through curious explorations.


And the pill that goes with this? Taken by Rosie.




Mirror Carousel


I found myself checking out my looks with each passing mirror. Most visitors stared into their reflection in each direction. Nothing makes vanity more heavenly than doing spinning round on a lightweight swing.


Maggie and the singing birds





Untitled

Rosie was the last of the trio to take on Untitled. Harmless as it may look, when Museum security warns that you should keep your hands crossed on your chest they weren't jesting. Momentum really picks up after the second sharp turn, and I've heard sounds of felt pain and pure joy coming through the slide on the second floor.

11_5. The Rival Mob "Tough Love" @ Acheron, NYC

The Rival Mob performed at the Acheron in BK last night/tonight/right before the mindfuckery that is the end of daylight saving. This band is hard to catch live unless you happen to be at some major punk fest or live on the East Coast, but luckily I've arranged my residency to fix that problem.

I'm not going to talk too much about the band's set because every word I'd have for it is best exemplified in the moving visual above. I will say that the unusual blur adjustments throughout the video makes it look extra ominous as if this was my POV after getting punched in the eyes. Keeping it tough.

Super Bass Wednesday

the HBIC

and her pro nail lacquer

1. Nicki Minaj, a.k.a. the artist behind probably one of the top songs of 2011 (haters, keep on walking), is going to release a line of nail polish for OPI in early 2012. Each lacquer are actual swatches taken from all the glitter, costumes, and desserts that have played a part in the span of her career. Although that may not be accurate, I can confidentially assess that Nicki vigilantly oversaw the colors for the collection because they are SO Minaj. This article was passed down to me by a friend of mine via Facebook. I jokingly said that I will be camping out at the OPI counter in a Duane Reade around its launch - yet, the more I think about it, the more this may become reality.


My current obsession. Listen to this song at least 10 times a day; it's getting bad."



2. Total Abuse's Rusty curated a mix for Vice Italy that combines the world of your electronic dreams and nightmares thanks to bands like Yellow Tears (nightmare), Xeno and Oaklander (dream), Gatekeeper (nightmare, but some vampire underworld rave kind of nightmare), FFH, Countrepoison, Raspberry Bulbs - among others. Check it out if the occasional lacerating noise is pleasurable to you. I'm loving the epilogue transition from Vatican Shadow to Lil B.

Image sources: Rap-Up.com and Vice Italy.

Meanwhile in NYC... OK I fell into the trap of neglecting this blog for the 1,000,000 time, but can you blame me for getting swept up by everything this city is, contains, and conjures?

9/Il Memorial, Lower Manhattan

In some mysterious way, the 9/11 Memorial removes you from the realization that you're in the middle of the frenzy (and currently occupied) Financial District. Even with fellow visitors talking around you, the chatter is somehow blocked and you hear nothing but the whistles of wind blowing through the leaves and the falling, man-made waterfalls within the two pools. These monuments overcast the actual site of the former Twin Towers, and the waterfall descends beyond subway grounds. Engraved along the edge of the pools are the names of every single person killed during 9/11 (not just NYC, but Flight 93 and D.C.) and the Ground Zero bombing. While that may not sound like much, these engravings are much more grand when they meet the eye; you can almost clutch onto these names.

I lost count of the amount of times this guy, in particular, grazed his hands against the carvings of a female name. Perhaps taking a break from work, abandoning his carrier for just this moment, he made time stand still for just this moment - his personal moment of silence. You can tell from the photo above that any visitor will find it difficult to be disturbed during their moment of silence and meditation. It's easy to escape from the city beat here, so it wouldn't be a surprise to see people treat this like a sanctuary once they get through the rigid entrance security process.

My Ears Miss Ohio

Photo copped via Facebook from fellow Ohioian/my FAVORITE gay man in hardcore, Scott Niemet.