The weekend’s got a six-pack and nothing to do.
Your Perks: 1) Three hours of yoga, saunas and thermal baths in Tribeca. 2) Tickets to a four-course meal complete with 10 types of wine and entertainment from some flexible performers. 3) Exclusive tickets to Queen of the Night. Huge if whole roasted pig, gratis wine and partially clothed dancers are your thing.
An upstate farmer wants to teach you to make your own bitters. Cardamom ones. Curry ones. All kinds of ones. She says it’s for health, because they’re... healthy. But if they happen to fall into your cocktails at home later, well, that’s the breaks.
Henry Rollins. Joe Strummer. Iggy Pop. Beer. All are present at Sage Bar for their new exhibition of Pete Kuhns’s classic punk photography. The opening party is tonight. It would be unwise to say no to Henry Rollins.
Billy Reid’s making jeans now. Predictably handsome ones. You’ll find them at their shiny West Village outpost on Charles, along with some stuff they’ve only ever shown on the runway. That reminds us: there’s now a shiny West Village outpost of Billy Reid on Charles.
The traditional progression goes: cornflake-crusted french toast, then marmalade martini, then you dance furiously to some deep house. It’s just how we were raised. It’s also how it’ll go down at Holden & Astor’s new brunch, which summons the party power of VIP Room, its downstairs cousin. A quality summoning.
In SoHo: The deep-dish kings at Emmett’s have just unleashed Chicago-style thin crust
onto an unsuspecting, NY-slice-defending public. This could get ugly/tasty.
In Midtown: The Wayfarer just cut the ribbon on a new second-floor lounge, complete with
live jazz and pulled-bacon sliders. If you’re going to pull something...
