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As New Yorkers, we know there¹s a special corner, section, underbelly, or what have you, that fanatically revolves around fashion. In the past, it existed on an avoidable plane, in its own publications, district and avenue, restricted to unleashing its madness to just two weeks a year.
My, how things have changed.
On TV the airwaves are inundated with the likes of ‘America¹s Next Top Model,’ ‘Project Runway,’ and ‘Ugly Betty.’ Even the comparatively snotty literary world has been forced to take notice, crowding bookshelves with fashion-focused fiction, hoping to be the next ‘The Devil Wears Prada.’
“There are a lot of books trying to be the next ‘Prada,’ says Publisher¹s Weekly Editor in Chief Sara Nelson. “It¹s cyclical.”
Two new additions to the cycle, as it were, are “Model: A Memoir,” by 20-year-old runway model Cheryl Diamond, and the soon-to-be released, “Catwalk,” by “The Cheetah Girls” author, Deborah Gregory.
Gregory, who got her start covering fashion for Essence magazine, says society¹s style-obsessed climate inspired “Catwalk,” which is set in an elite New York high school for fashion and follows the antics of ambitious teenage fashionistas.
“There is absolutely no question that [fashion-oriented reality TV] has literally put the fashion industry on the map,” says Gregory. “Younger people now look at the fashion industry as one of the ten most glamorous industries.”
Diamond, whose debut novel chronicles her colorful first years trying to break in the modeling biz, agrees. “I think any multi-billion dollar industry that deals in beautiful teenage girls, clothes and crazy characters [is] intoxicating,” she says. “It has everything.”
And while Gregory and Diamond agree on the appeal of the glitz and glamour, both authors surprisingly tackle the less glamorous, more true-to-life aspects of the industry, contrary to much of what is written and depicted in mainstream media.

amny.com

However dismal the city may be on the surface at this time of year, beneath our feet is that world-famous treasure trove of twentieth century decorative art and architecture, the Moscow Metro. Sometimes an hour or so spent admiring the dedicated artistry and elegant construction of these subterranean palaces can lift a grey day. This tour starts in the second phase of station building in the late 1930s, with that famous hall of bronze Soviet figures, crouching with suppressed energy around the arches at Plo­schad Revolutsii. It ends with one of the latest additions to Moscow's incredible underground network, opened just three months ago.
The gallery of 76 sculptures (four matching sets of nineteen) at Ploschad Revolutsii was opened exactly seventy years ago, in 1938, and transports us back in time to an era of revolutionaries, partisans and pioneers. The figures move through an idealistic progression which starts with the revolutionary worker with a grenade, the trench soldier, sailor (with the revolver), parachutist, signalman, riflegirl and frontier guard. The guard is the one with the dog, whose highly polished nose is touched by passers-by for luck, as you will see if you watch for more than a few seconds. The next statues represent the peaceful activities of the flourishing Communist order: engineering, farming, reading, sports. With the students, it looks forward to the next generation, in the form of chubby bronze babies whose parents are gazing proudly into the glorious future represented by the pioneer boys and girls (on the platform side), making model airplanes or studying geography.
Catch the train west towards Strogino and get off at each station in turn to admire the plaster garlands and baroque chandeliers of Arbatskaya, the fluted columns and marble benches of Smolenskaya and finally the frescoes at Kievskaya. These three stations were built in 1953 during the most ornate phase of station decoration. They are all deep and built with a central hall, separated from the rails by pillars, and have characteristically elaborate features such as gilded light-fittings and murals. The pictures in Kievskaya station depict idealised life and work in Soviet Ukraine. At the west end, there is a huge fresco of "Popular Celebration in Kiev," while the paintings on the walls show engineers and chemists, wine makers and cattle breeders, bricklayers, dancers and miners. The fishermen are catching - now extinct - Azov Sturgeon, while happy peasant girls in national costume harvest turnips and apples.

mnweekly.ru

Past the glitzy, red carpet and line of photographers at the entrance of Opera in Hollywood, Snoop Dogg turned the normally chichi club straight hood. Opera is one of the more upscale party destinations to open in the area recently. Nestled on Schrader Blvd, blocks east of Highland Ave, the chic nightspot symbolizes Hollywood’s evolution from “gutter” to Glamour. It’s not the spot you’d necessarily expect for a raucous, O.G. party in celebration of Snoop Dogg’s new masterpiece Ego Trippin’. However, with its demure decor and sexy lighting, Opera provided the perfect setting for Snoop Dogg to prove why he’s still king of the game.
Since it was a not-so-secret record release party presented by MySpace, the glitteratti turned out in full form. Among the celebs in attendance were Bill Maher and Kendra from The Girls Next Door. They both witnessed an hour-plus set of pure hip hop mastery courtesy of the Doggfather. Not one person in the crowd stopped moving from the moment Snoop hit the stage, until well into the night.
Snoop’s set couldn’t have been more perfect for the packed house. He lit the party up immediately with a flow that shifted from “Lodi Dodi” to a freestyle over The Notorious B.I.G.’s “Hypnotize.” Launching into another classic, “Next Episode,” Snoop took command. His signature smooth rap has never sounded better. Over the beat spun by Battlecat, Snoop took the audience right back to the days when LA was dangerous, fresh and alive. Clad in a black and gold hoodie with bling to spare, he rocked a microphone bearing his moniker in diamonds. Snoop became a rap god, standing elevated above the crowd in the club’s center. The crowd ate it up.
Early in the set, Snoop joked, “They said you’re only supposed to come here and do like three songs. I can’t just do that! You know me. I’ve always got my bag of tricks. So here’s my O.G. homey from the Bay Area, Too $hort!” With that intro, the legendary NorCal rapper took center stage and did a crowd favorite, “Blow the Whistle.” Snoop took a step back, dancing crip-style and vibing with the plethora of people around him on the makeshift stage in the middle of the club. Those homeys included Archbishop Don Magic Juan, a.k.a. “the dude with the green hat from

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