Monthly Archives: April 2007

When did The New York Observer become the gayest publication on the planet?

Surely this wasn’t in the cards when the chic weekly started up a now considerable number of years ago. But here in its latest issue we’re breathlessly informed not only that Patient Less Than Zero is about to tie the knot (to an “actor” with no last name), but are treated to THIS item about designer Marc Jabobs:

“You can look, boys-but don’t touch! Marc Jacobs may be off the market again.
The 44-year-old designer, who has battled drugs and alcohol for years, entered an Arizona rehabilitation clinic in March, and then transferred to the luxurious facility in Malibu, Calif., after what off-again/on-again boyfriend Jason Preston called some “drama.” Mr. Jacobs’ first order of business upon completing treatment and returning to New York on April 20: taking Mr. Preston to Nobu”

Wel my dear, where to begin? I’m old enough to remember when fashion designer’s lives were relegated to a fourth estate cordon sanitaire precisely because they so often involved, drugs, alcohol and boytoys. How times have changed!

“It’s my favorite place,” chirped the former escort, 26, reached by phone on April 23. (The couple has been dating for two years. There have been “like five break-ups”!) Mr. Preston wore jeans and a T-shirt to the restaurant, while Mr. Jacobs-tanned by the California sun-opted for a blazer and slacks. “Oh my God, he’s looking so hot!” gushed the younger man. “He’s doing amazingly well. Marc has found his way; he’s going to be sober for the rest of his life.”

WHOA! “Former escort”? Not what I’d call husband-material. But then I can’t comprehend the ooing and ahhing over Marc Jacobs either. To judge from this pic

he’s an average-looking guy with nothing special about him save the money that’s been lavishly invested in his business. As for Preston his “do” suggests a modified toned-down version of the one the late John Sex wore back in the 80’s. IOW, no threat to Moz.

“While Mr. Preston declined to go on the record as to whether the couple is officially reunited, a source told The Transom that earlier last week, a decidedly not-sober Mr. Preston was bragging that the flames were burning between the two men once again. “He kept saying, ‘Marc’s coming back!’ He was really excited,” the source said. “Also, he was wearing that Marc T-shirt that has Marc’s naked body on it.”
Kate Waters, a spokesperson for Mr. Jacobs, said: “He and Jason are friendly but they are not back together”

Only The New York Observer could get excited over Marc Jacobs’ naked body.

As if in answer to all of this, Dennis in today’s blog entry considers the prospect of a runway show of his own. And beign that he’s in Paris it’s all just so Funny Face!

DICK.
I want to step out
Down the Champs-Élysées,
From the Arch of Triumph
To the Petit Palais.
That’s for me:
Bonjour, Paris!MAGGIE.
I want to wander
Through the Saint-Honoré,
Do some window shopping
In the Rue de la Paix
That’s for me:
Bonjour, Paris!

JO.
I want to see the den of thinking men
like Jean-Paul Sartre.
I must philosophise with all the guys
around Montmartre and Montparnasse.

ALL THREE.
I’m strictly (a) tourist
But I couldn’t care less.
When they parlez-vous me
Then I gotta confess.
That’s for me:
Bonjour, Paris!

MEN.
Light up the Louvre museum
Jazz up the Latin quarter
To show the richest and the poorest:
Here it comes,
The great American tourist!

MAGGIE.
This has got to be illegal
What I feel
Trés gay, trés chic,
Trés mag-nifique
C’est moi, c’est vous
C’est grand, c’est too tout…
It’s too good to be true,
All the things we can do.
You do things to my point of view.

MEN.
We can show you the North or
We can show you the South then
We can show you the West!

MAGGIE.
Come on and show me (& MEN) the best!

MAGGIE.
That’s for me:
Bonjour, Paris!

PEOPLE.
Bonjour.

MAGGIE.
Bonjour!

JO.
That’s for me:
Bonjour, Paris!

PEOPLE.
Bonjour!

DICK.
Living is easy,
The livin’ is high.
All good Americans
Should come here to die.

PEOPLE.
Bonjour!

MAGGIE.
Is it real?
Am I here?

JO.
Am I here?
Is it real?

MAGGIE.
There’s something missing

MAGGIE & JO.
There’s something missing, I know.

ALL THREE.
There’s something missing
There’s something missing, I know:
There’s still one place
I’ve got to go!

[They arrive at the bottom of the Eiffel Tower
one after the other and meet in the lift.]

MAGGIE.
Oh!

DICK.
Oh no!

MAGGIE.
I thought that you were tired.

DICK.
You said that you were tired.

JO.
I heard you say that you…

MAGGIE.
You told me you were tired!

DICK.
You said that you were so exhausted!

JO.
You said you needed sleep!

MAGGIE.
You told that you had to rest.

DICK.
You said you ought to rest.

JO.
I thought you wanted rest.

MAGGIE.
Is this what you call rest?

DICK.
I haven’t time to rest!

JO.
This fussing and fretting
It’s getting my goat.

DICK.
Let’s all let our hair down,
We’re in the same boat!

All.
We’re strictly tourists,
You can titter and jeer.
All we want to say is
La Fayette, we are here
On a spree,
Bonjour, Paris!
Bonjour!
Nope — Marc Jacobs is no Kay Thompson.
But Dennis sure has Roger Edens cred !