From the director of <em>Weekend</em>.
Your Perks: 1) A curated selection of the 20th century’s most iconic timepieces. And by that we mean Rolex, Cartier and the like. 2) A personally engraved bottle of Kentucky bourbon. “Happy Father’s Day” —You. 3) Enough Hugo Boss polos to kill a man. Kidding. Polos are generally nonviolent.
Venice. Its people are so very dateable. And likely to enjoy a charming outdoor courtyard for zucchini tagliatelle from raw-food chef Matthew Kenney. Meanwhile, you’ll focus on that wine stuff everybody seems to enjoy.
You’re at the Ace working on a time-sensitive Moscow Mule when a Church & State invite hits your phone. Good thing French label A.P.C. just opened across the street. One silk-linen sweater and two Spanish-leather derbies later, you’re escargot-ready. These words presume you take your escargot comically seriously.
By day, Pig ’N Whistle is Pig ’N Whistle. After dark, it’s Confession—a new lounge open three nights a week. There’s a private room in the back with añejo-and-Chimay cocktails, and a confession booth on the way that fires group photos off to Twitter. Which... isn’t bound by confidentiality.
Los Angeles, 2035: A utopian paradise in which the local populace consumes Guelaguetza’s red mole, Roy Choi’s Korean Fluffernutter and Wurstküche’s brats and mustard... in ice cream form, at Salt & Straw. Oh, wait, we meant Friday. That happens Friday.
It doesn’t matter what else is going on. At midnight on Saturday, you’ll see The Great Muppet Caper at the Silent Movie Theatre. Bring friends. Bring flasks. Leave feeling better than when you entered. It’s science.
