LA Weekly

It's a match made in hipster heaven. Disheveled shutterbug du jour Mark "The Cobrasnake" Hunter (with whom I still proudly share space with in the paper version of the Weekly) has joined forces with Urban Outfitters for their Fall shoe catalog.

Has the snake sssssssold out? Not really. Urban might be the emporium of homogenized hip, but they always have cute, retro-styled, rock n' roll-flavored threads and it's still much cooler than mall garb.

In fact, I'd bet my faux vintage tee collection (never my real ones though) that most of the punkette posers on Mark's site are in fact wearing Urban gear (and have been since way before the company took note of him).

Mark's signature club chick meets homeless hobo aesthetic is all over the Urban website. And hey, better they get the real thing than try to cop his style with some wannabe right? Hope he made bank.

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Ah summer TV. It's really shititlicious fun aint it? Painting the town is what I do, but that doesn't mean I don't love my tube time. My DVR always gets a workout, even in Summer.

Actually, there's so many Los Angeles-based/themed shows these days, I'm not even joking when I say reality show viewing is like research. Brain-cell burning research!

Thus, I begin here, a new weekly Style Council summation of LA-nightlife related programming. Read on and check back each week for observations about the good (girls), the bad (boys) and the ugly (truth not seen on TV):

ROCK OF LOVE- Just when you thought VH1 couldn't outdo the cringe-worthy mayhem of Flavor of Love and I Love New York comes this studded belt slut-fest starring Poison's Bret Michaels. I loved the ghetto gal cat fights on the first two shows, but as a former Sunset Strip rock reveler, this one hits a little too close to home. Michaels looks terrible and the bitchy babes on the show do a disservice to rock chicks everywhere. It ain't 1987 anymore sweethearts. Gazzarri's is gone.
LA hotspot sighting last week: Bret Michaels serenades a contestant at The Joint.

THE ROCK LIFE- Whitestarr a struggling little rock band? That's how they're portrayed on this new reality show on VH1. Even though they show Cisco Adler's Malibu spread and talk about his dad, uber-producer Lou Adler, they don't mention the family connection to "The World Famous Roxy" -the place where the group hopes to get its big management break in the series opener. Surprisingly, Adler comes off pretty cool. It's guitarist "Rainbow" Jeremy that'll make you gag with the jerky treatment of his girlfriend and self-centered rockstar 'tude. This rainbow don't come off too bright either.
LA hotspot sighting: The Viper Room, where Adler flashed his balls for all the web (it was posted everywhere the next day) to see.

ENTOURAGE- Not a reality show, but close to it. I always have fun trying to spot local bars, clubs and eateries on this HBO must-see. So far this season Vincent Chase and posse have been to Winstons, the W Hotel pool, Gladstones and surely a bunch more. But it's Aquaman's new abode that's really interesting. It's the home of none other than club mogul Sam Nazarian.
LA sighting coming up: Sam Nazarian himself will make an appearance.

THE HILLS- The creme de la creme of super-fake "reality" shows. The new season of this ridiculous MTV chronicle of life in big, bad Hollywood starring The OC alum Lauren, is actually kinda interesting now that the stars are feuding. Spencer and Heidi may be the most obnoxious TV duo EVER, but they are hilarious. (He bought her an engagement ring at mall accessory hut ICE last week -cheap!- and decorated their apartment with a giant, gaudy graffiti piece that says "Hollywood" -cheese!)
LA hotspot sighting: Les Deux. Not seen: Audrina and her date Justin Bobby at Forty Deuce. I was there the same night and it was good times (see photo).

LA INK- Kat Von D from TLC's Miami Ink is back in her hometown with a new shop on La Brea called High Voltage and her own show. Nothing bad to say about this one. As a Los Angeles native, I'm actually stoked to see someone with so much LA pride. People from all walks of life and their tats will be featured (a member of Latin punks Los Abandoned got a chest piece last week). LA is more than phonies, wanna-bes and airheads (a notion the above shows only perpetuate) and this program promises to show the other side. We'll see...
LA hotspot sightings: Swingers, Velvet Margarita, Pinks.

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Still haven't seen the Simpsons movie, but it's not like I need to what with the massive marketing that permeated the media.

At least some of it is clever.

Anybody see this month's Bazaar magazine? There's a spread featuring the Simpsons family hangin' with Linda Evangelista and designers including Marc Jacobs and Karl Lagerfield. Cute!

And I just love this. Submit your photo to this website (yeah, it's a Burger King thing) and in minutes your likeness is "Simpsonized."

See mine above.

By the way, if you try to do your dog, it will always look like Santa's Little Helper. Ay Caramba!

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The Sex and the City movie is finally gonna happen. Whoo hoo!

The edited repeats of the show on TNT may be sanitized sex-wise, but they’re still sassy fun, and every time I watch one, I’m reminded of the countless spot-on observations and campy-cool terms about relationships, nightlife and of course, fashion that were coined on that show. Stuff that still holds true.

Like, for example when Aiden (one of the most popular baby boy names of last year by the way) bought a pear-shaped gold diamond ring to propose to Carrie. She was mortified, and when Miranda told her, “but you wear gold all the time” (referring to her famous nameplate necklace and the big hoop, name-plate earrings she wore in later episodes), her response was, “yeah but that’s ghetto gold.”

A similar term, “ghetto-fabulous” (referring to the street-meets-glam style popularized by R&B and rap mavens like Mary J Blige), bothered some when it was used on this blog a while back, the argument being the ghetto isn’t and never will be fabulous.

Well, maybe not, but if gaudy gold jewelry can make someone who can’t afford say, something from Tiffany’s, feel glamorous, then what’s the problem? (For the record, I wear my nameplates with my Tiffany, both in Silver).

The irony here is that, right now, the big gold, Mr. T look has been co-opted by the all white rich gals who used to rock Tiffany toggles. The other night, I popped into three clubs from Silver Lake to Hollywood to downtown, and I counted no less than 12 skinny, tent-dressed li’l diva’s donning humongous bamboo-molded gold earrings.

These chunky door knocker and heart-shaped mega-hoops have been staples in the hood for well-over a decade (check out an old Salt n’ Pepa video on YouTube and see what I mean) but it took a Brit and a blue-eyed former Kids Incorporated star to make 'em appealing to mall rats and hip chicks.

I’m talking about Fergie and Lily Allen. Ferg’s music at least has a hip hop flair. Lily’s stuff on the other hand, is anything but gangsta (even with the bad words). Still, it’s Allen’s fondness for freakishly big jewels that I think is singlehandedly, or rather ear-edly, responsible for what’s sure to be a lot of not so lovely, stretched out lady lobes in the future.

Wonder if Carrie Bradshaw (or more accurately, Patricia Field) will get hooped in again too.

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