The strangest piece of unsolicited information landed in the mailbag, and apropos nothing we'll share it with you: Earlier this year, Princess Coldstare — otherwise known as Leigh Lezark, Cathy Horyn's heir to Edie Sedgwick and the third leg of the hipster press-whore DJ collective Misshapes — had, for at least one entry, a blog. She doesn't just promote or pose, people! She blogs! She's that cutting edge!
The Misshapes, those 3 omnipresent party-hosting, death-staring hipsters, didn't just spoil black eyeliner, leotards, dance parties, Eastpak and rosé for the rest of the us — they also destroyed classic Brit pop. Specifically, the Misshapes take their name from the Pulp song "Mis-Shapes," a tragedy on which Idolator elaborates:
Last Thursday, in her personal piece de resistance, Times fashion critic Cathy Horyn could not overstate the sheer awesomeness of haute whores and popular DJs the MisShapes, stating that their Bolivian-slim frames and bowl-shaped haircuts had influenced Dior Homme designer Hedi Slimane's July runway show. Slimane, however, took issue with the attribution:
It's Fashion Week, so Thursgay Styles has plenty of ground to cover: the "cascading" spring styles, seating at the shows, the sweater-jacket as a fall staple...and the MisShapes. Really? The MisShapes? How fascinating! Who are these downtown darlings you speak of?
We don't know what it means, but no good can come of this.
Did you happen to catch yesterday's Post coverage of the "25 sexiest New Yorkers"? (Oddly, only 15 are available on line.) Well, one of them happens to be Leigh Lezark! Sadly, the Post notes that a backlash is brewing against the hipster DJ. We don't know where they may have heard that, but we're pretty sure about where that "cold... stare" came from.
If you're a normal human being, you probably come on here needing an Hipstetta Stone to decipher all the ironi-cool hipster jargonacular (maybe vernargon is better?). Blue States Lose is helpful, but fortunately for you (and us), someone directed us to this video that provides way more than we need to know on Leigh Lazark, and, um, those two other guys responsible for MisShapes.
For the record, the end of days officially began at MisShapes, August 19th, 2006. Pictured above at said location are Times fashion critic Cathy Horyn and designer/walker Narciso Rodriguez.
For the love of sweet baby Christ! Do you see this? Do you? Yeah, that's right — it's Leigh "Princess Coldstare" Lezark, the lady of MisShapes, and it's from page 406 of the September Elle. Yesterday, she was modeling circus costumes in Thursgay Styles; two weeks ago, her fellow MisShapes pictured were sipping rosé in Sunday Styles. Now it's a high-end, multi-pound fashion monthly.
No. No. This is NOT the way to start our morning, our Thursgay Styles ritual interrupted by the jarring image of Princess Coldstare of MisShapes (Leigh Lezark) in a $9,190 fur vest. The article ostensibly is about fall's new chunky, layered looks; Lezark was one of three trendy ladies invited into Barneys to play dress up for the Times. She arrived with fellow MisShape Leotard Fantastic (who, not coincidentally, was in last Sunday's Styles holding a glass of rose-fucking-ay), deemed the clothes "too old," was indifferent to wearing anything on her bottom, and suggested chopping up a floor-length Marc Jacobs frock. And for this, she is fabulous, perched with socialites, compared to Edie Sedgwick, presented as the emo Jessica Joffe. But no matter how high Lezark's star may rise, remember: you knew her when she was just a girl with a vagina shirt and a dream.
Your Pinot Gris is so last week: according to the Sunday Styles, rosé is the new hotness,* being stylishly sipped by everyone from Russell Simmons to Jay McInerney to beloved Misshapes Leotard Fantastic and the Other Guy (at right). West Village gastropub the Spotted Pig is touted as carrying five rosés on its wine list, and owner Ken Friedman says, "Ros has replaced prosecco and cosmos as the new chick drink." (We totally missed that prosecco thing.) And if it's good enough for Carrie Bradshaw, it's good enough for every other misguided soul hoping to achieve such an intangible level of chic.
More from the Pig:
Man of the hour Thomas Onorato still won't let Visionaire's Scott Meriam into Motherfucker.
The bit of loveliness you see here comes from the Post's Pulitzer-baiting examination of the bridge and tunnel crowd. (Your takeaway: Clubs like them because they spend a lot of money; being Italian-Americans, they tend to be too stupid to read the bill.) The chart above would seem to be a gratuitous swipe at merely two of the elements that make our city so objectionable, but even so, forcing us too choose between Princess Coldstare and The Crappo del Tutti Crappy is shockingly unfair. Can't we call it a draw?
• Lil' Kim ate well in the joint.
• Rocketboom parted ways with the world's most miraculous pair of breasts. And before we got to make our "More like Rocketboob" joke.
• Even in death, Ken Lay gave life to the P.R. industry.
• Some web site made minor changes, mostly bumping up font sizes and such. No big deal.
• There's Something About Larry: He's a big-time farter.
• Benji Madden got in a fight with a MisShapes kid, which is almost as challenging as beating up someone in a wheelchair.
• Hopefully "I just wanted to touch him like a kitten" sounds less molestery in Russian.
• You never know what's going to happen when you ride the train, but it usually doesn't involve getting sliced in half by power tools. Usually.
As anyone who's spent an evening carefully smearing their eyeliner will tell you, life after Misshapes is rough. When the Gang of Four stops and the lights come up, all you're left with is a profound emptiness (and nausea). And so it goes for the original home of Misshapes, Luke and Leroy's, a venue that's been empty-nesting ever since the Saturday night alt-hell dance party outgrew its home and moved to Don Hill's. Not yet qualified for historical protection, the bar is up for sale. A tragedy, we say — and it must be stopped!
• John Travolta and Kelly Preston's son, Jett, may be autistic — but, as ardent Scientologist, they won't do a thing about it. And so poor Jett goes back to staring at 246 toothpicks. [R&M]
• An anonymous caller called the city's Child Services to make damaging and unsupported claims about View co-host Elizabeth Hasselbeck. Unfortunately, raising your child in a Republican household doesn't qualify as abuse. [Lowdown]
• Dropping your baby on his head is OK, too: Los Angeles' child services closes its investigation of Britney Spears and Kevin Federline. [IMDb]
• Good Charlotte rocker Benji Madden turns the normally idyllic Misshapes party into a violent hell, pounding the life out of a hipster in the process. We're so fucking proud of him, seriously. [Page Six]
Spotted on David Patrick Columbia's usually very top-drawer New York Social Diary today:
Tricia Romano, bless her little heart, uses her entire column this week to detail a fantastically faggy rivalry: the kids behind hipster-inferno party MisShapes vs. older, equally faggy posse The Trinity. The Trinity (who counts Heatherette designer Richie Rich and increditranny Amanda Lepore as on their side), it seems, doesn't like the MisShapes, "just because." This results in prank phone calls, snide remarks made at the podium during Paper's Nightlife Awards, and nasty note-passing during fifth period.
