From the Do Not Use Your Own Paper for Fact-Checking Department, the NY Post today insists, once again, that Sarah Jessica Parker's son is named David Perkins Broderick. This must stop. It is incredibly important that we keep our celebrity babies straight. We must know our Apples from our Maddoxes.
Where else would Kathy Hilton hold the casting call for her reality show but Tavern on the Green in Central Park? Open call is from 9 to 5, so put in your Cletus the slack-jawed yokel dentures and throw on your Daisy Dukes and get yerself on the tee-vee! Full sanctioned social-climbing info after the jump.
PR megafirm Rubenstein Associates celebrated its 50th anniversary of seeding items on Page Six (it's easy, when you rep the NY Post) and tossing stories to cranky Timesmen. From the party report:
I knew if I waited long enough, someone would publish a Tony Awards wrap-up worth reading. Oh, and in case you couldn't hear the screaming from the West Village last night? Carol Channing rapped. Seriously. TVgasm reports some highlights:
The longest meditation on the Olsen Twins, everyone's favorite NYU freshwomen, ever written:
Arts blogger Tyler Green has all the dirt on the bizarre curator/dealer lawsuit we mentioned last night. We know all the parties involved, so we're not saying a damn thing about it ourselves — but we can guarantee it's going to be the scandal of the summer. Well, unless publicist Lizzie Grubman backs over an East Hampton crowd in her SUV again. Actually, they should consider hiring her to do that to distract everyone.
The details: Kamm sues Dan Cameron, New Museum [Modern Art Notes]
Today's Page Six has a rather wild item on an altercation between an art dealer and a curator. The curator has written letters to everyone in the art world, trashing the dealer. The dealer has filed a million-dollar defamation suit, which Page Six barely digs into. They should have: the summons, filed in court last week, is 18 pages of hair-raising accusation. It'll be hitting the internet in the next 12 hours or so, it looks like.
Muscle Side of the Art World [NYP]
A genealogy-obsessed reader writes:
1. Strokes lead singer Julian Casablancas is engaged to assistant band manager Juliet Joslin. He announced plans to get married at a show in Cental Park on Wednesday before introducing the song "It's Hard to Explain" with one last gasp of bachelorhood, "I'm getting married and it's hard to explain!" Right, but what's really difficult to grasp is why he went in-house when he has all those groupies. [Page Six]
2. "Queer Eye for the Straight Guy" producers are looking for subjects who need advice on their doggy-style. [Page Six]
3. Acne-riddled actor Robert Downey Jr is in Queens eating pizza, writing checks...and making a movie about the timeless story of a boy who goes from the mean streets to underwear model to punk band. [Page Six]
4. At the Metropolitan Home magazine's Design 100 party the other night, Four Seasons Restaurant's Julian Niccolini pictures himself in a clear plastic kayak on a pool with tangerine trees and two young ladies. Newspaper editors appeared on the shores waiting to take him away. [NYDN]
5. New York City cops-for-a-day, actresses Candice Bergen and Lorraine Bracco, get a ride to a real midtown murder scene yesterday. No plans yet to turn this into a reality television series. [NYDN]
This week's official obsession is Tina Fey's scar. We admit it's childish, privacy-invading, and maybe even a little mean-spirited but when she got all sex-pot on us the door swung open and hit her in the face, so to speak. Please send your theories or known facts to tip@gawker.com and the best entries will be published here. Clues are splattered all over the place and in-depth Google searches provide a revealing timeline of pictures. The case is there, it just needs to be cracked. We suggest starting your research over at Stereogum.
The NYT's Boldface Names columnist Joyce Wadler is perhaps the only gossipeuse to ever spend four paragraphs warming up to a Brad Pitt item, then print the question she put to the actor and actually not print the answer. And that's just when things beging to get weird. Did Joyce — or, presumably, her legger — have a stroke at the Troy premiere? Or is Joyce being made Tel Aviv bureau chief this week? Joyce, how many fingers am I holding up?
And, for Once, It Wasn't Us [NYT]
Eurotrash takes on the what-men-want-in-bed pages from the latest Cosmo. It's not pretty:
From time to time you'll enter someone's apartment and realize that, with horror, they've over-stated the importance of their Emmy or Golden Globe statuette. (You can never overemphasize an Oscar, it turns out.) In an interview with Claire Zulkey, the writer of the NYT's Ethicist column has advice for proper installation of Emmy awards in your home:
This doesn't have jack-all to do with our regular obsessions, but we just can't resist spoilers. From our favorite ellipsis-obsessed correspondent, a smattering of info (and potential spoilers) regarding tonight's Will and Grace season finale (and much about J.Lo's ass).
It's not nice to post people's phone numbers on the internet. That's why we only link to it when other people do it. See? That's how we maintain our delusions of decency. Anyway: William Hung's voicemail is pretty priceless. Still sussing out the whole laughing at/with proposition, however.
Will Sing for Food [KTB]
Email is really great for a quantity of information — but not always so good at quality. In this edition of Rumor Control, let's address the two latest rumors making the email rounds:
