The weekend will wear white whenever it damn well pleases.
Your Perks: 1) Bespoke jeans and a custom polo, tailored using a 3D body scanner in a futuristic SoHo atelier. 2) Exclusive access to a clandestine, members-only poker club somewhere in Flatiron. 3) Nearly 100 bucks off a seven-speed bicycle that folds up in 10 seconds flat.
Here’s what’s happening: RedFarm proper’s closing for the month. Downstairs, they’ve got a new space. For just this month, they’re doing bone-in strips, grilled lobster and shrimp-stuffed chicken steak down there. You know, just small, easy, temporary stuff.
This “being dressed” fad doesn’t seem to be going away. So you should head here to pick up Battenwear jackets, Yuketen shoes and Margaret Howell sweaters for a song. Money might also work.
The Players: David Burke and Hill Country and Masaharu Morimoto (of Morimoto fame) are all
making appearances at Queens’s tennis party.
The Overhand Smashes: The ratatouille-stuffed portabella burger, the smoked turkey with
pickles and... all the sushi, respectively. Mmm, tennis.
There’s an old Hamptons saying we just made up that goes, “If you’re gonna go out, go out singing ‘Because the Night.’” Hence, Patti Smith’s closing down the concert/weekending season at the Surf Lodge. Odds are against the use of a foam finger here.
What do you get when you put together an all-female team of cocktail masters from Clover Club, the NoMad, the Dead Rabbit, Booker and Dax, and Middle Branch in a Kips Bay spot named after a 16th-century female pirate? This. Only this.
