I was sure I'd paid a lifetime's worth of journalistic dues after spending a strange Sunday evening with the inanely chipper celebu-lurker/frozen-food-flack Jonathan Cheban (despite the shiny hair, we're still pretty sure he's the fourth horseman of the publicist apocalypse). But once I received a package chock full of Cheban's Clarendon shirts (sized to fit), I realized the public deserved more. You're hungry. You know you want it, so please feast your eyes upon Cheban's designs, as worn by anonymodel Greg. We're sure you'll see plenty more of these spectacularly pricey cotton threads during Fashion Week, no?

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