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In this week's edition of the Look Book, New York magazine assaults us with the image of hedge-fund manager David Roach, who could clearly dominate you at Golden Tee while shoving one of his pricey Cuban cigars up your ass. Alright, fine: Rauch doesn't exactly admit to enjoying those exact activities, but he says he's got a "superrich" mentality, so we're sure we're not too far off base. After the jump, Intern Alexis rounds up Ky Henderson, Matteo Borghese, and John Boschetto for analysis of this interesting specimen.

Ky Henderson, noted freelance writer

How much money does David Rauch make?

As a money manager and hedge fund founder, David no doubt thinks it's gauche to talk about money. So let's just say he earns enough to enjoy the finer things: Sake bombs when he's slumming alongside the madras-draped degenerates at Hiro, a Netflix membership—the most expensive one, obvi—so he can watch his favorite Tom Cruise movies, and luxurious baths in the warm blood of slaughtered innocents.

Says David Rauch: "At Bear Stearns, they used to send pretty girls from Tom James around and they would measure you in the conference room." What did the pretty girls from Tom James think of David Rauch? And vice versa?

After he related his harrowing tales of office tie defilement and expressed the overwhelming pressure his coworkers put on him to wear cute shoes, the girls no doubt set aside their measuring tape, holstered their cans of mace, and thought, "Ooh, he reminds me of a Marine!" In turn, he must have put his pants back on—yes, it was only a shirt fitting, but he clearly doesn't play by the fashion rules—and slyly mused, "Semper Fi? Tell that to my wife!"

Is David Rauch holding a copy of the New York Sun?! HOLLA!

David may be holding the Sun, but he may also be catching up on wifey's homeland with the notorious Swedish rag Svenska Dagbladet. In either case, the real question is: How does he manage to read it?

What does David Rauch wear when he's just hangin'?

The exact same thing—but he reluctantly uncrosses his arms.


Matteo Borghese, Pizzaiolo: The 3 Tonys

How much money does David Rauch make?

My first impulse is to say this guy's full of shit and to say he lives off hatever he steals from mom's purse, but I know deep in my heart that I would have said that only out of envy. I am envious of this man. He obviously makes sixty to hundred times what I make. I would tell you what I make, but I realize now everything about me is inconsequential when compared to this man whose genetic stock could only have been dreamed up in a eugenicist's lab.

Says David Rauch: "At Bear Stearns, they used to send pretty girls from Tom James around and they would measure you in the conference room." What did the pretty girls from Tom James think of David Rauch? And vice versa?

No one cares what the girls at Tom James think about David Rauch. This man is a graceful blonde giant.

Is David Rauch holding a copy of the New York Sun?! HOLLA!

No, I really don't think that's the Sun. It's probably a paper we don't even know about because we're too short and stupid and poor.

What does David Rauch wear when he's just hangin'?
 A jacket made out of fat women.

Jon Boschetto, PhD candidate in musicology, Princeton University

How much money does David Rauch make?

Not enough to get out of the country or buy his own suits.
Says David Rauch: "At Bear Stearns, they used to send pretty girls from Tom James around and they would measure you in the conference room." What did the pretty girls from Tom James think of David Rauch? And vice versa?

One pretty girl liked it. Hard. Still his friend, Tom James seamstress still gives him full service. Goody gumdrops!

Is David Rauch holding a copy of the New York Sun?! HOLLA!

This is what I imagine New York Sun's ideal clientele to be—improperly traveled, Bonfire-of-the-Vanities-wannabe greenbacks in too-wide pinstripes. But perhaps more bermensch than fiddler, no?

What does David Rauch wear when he's just hangin'?

In Europe or stateside, David has an image to project—money money money money money. Shunning this season's in-style madras, David opts for more wool suits. In the boardroom, at the ballpark, down the shore, in the bathtub. And this is what makes him so douchey. That, and his daily ritual of practicing his bowtie in the privacy of his fully-mirrored boudoir, singing "Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful boy."