• First of all, do you people not know how to shag balls? Learn. Today's lead Page Six story concerns Derek Jeeeeeetah and his lady plaything, Friday Night Lights hotness Minka Kelly (and really, who dates a girl named Minka Kelly but Derek Jeter? Oh, that's right: Tim Riggins...) going on a grand tour of St. Jetersburg, which is what Derek's new Florida house has been dubbed by someone who thinks of funny words to go with gigantic funny houses. Yeah, they went to St. Barts and then Jeter and his parents and Minka took a tour of what's apparently going to be Tampa, Florida's largest house (where Jeter goes for Spring Training). Apparently, Minka thought of how she's going to decorate all the rooms and he thought of which rooms he's going to have sex with Minka Kelly in (answer: all of them, except for the Slug Room). Well, that's quite a distinguishment, to be Tampa, Florida's biggest anything. Also: real romantic, Jeter. A housetour? Nice. [Page Six]
  
  
• Okay, this is awesome: Sandra Bullock dressed up as a chola girl for George Lopez's TBS show. Inevitably, someone will wet their pants over being offended by this. Good! Because there are people who should get offended when they see this picture of Sandra Bullock dressed up as a chola. They're assholes. And we need them to make the rest of us look normal. [NYDN]
  
  
• Anna Wintour's daughter, Bee Shaffer, who's taken a job as College Humor found Ricky Van Veen's Girl Friday, is going apartment hunting with the moms. Aw! Except when you go apartment hunting with Ma Wintour, there's no "aw." More like *shudder*. They're looking at places in SoHo and Anna was seen "in stilettos and texting furiously on her BlackBerry." Yeah, aspiring real estate agents, that's a deal you want to be working on. Fun. [Page Six]
  
  
• Spreewell! Put a little mustard on those mortgage payments. [NYDN]
  
  
• Apparently, nobody stays in for the holidays anymore, or so goes Page Six's Sociological Theory after spotting Martha Stewart out and about at the Four Seasons for Thanksgiving dinner. Yeah, no, Martha can cook a bitch like none other, but she saves the weaponry for when people are supposed to be watching. [Page Six]
  
  
• The Fresh Prince of PA-POW! is here: meet Will Smith's kid, The New Karate Kid, who's training to go into Nu-Miyagi-Crane-Kick mode with Jackie Chan. INYOFACE, Cobra Kai. [People]
  
  
• Further evidence of maybe they're right: Alec Baldwin is going to quit acting when his 30 Rock contract ends, he says. When's that? 2012. [NYDN]
  
  
• Uh, I'm pretty sure Page Six is suggesting Diddy and Jay-Z are gay with this one. Ready? Diddy and Hov kicked it at CV's lounge, which rents out at $5,000 a night, comes with "padded walls" a magnum of champers, a couch, and eight ounces—eight...ounces—of beluga caviar. Right, the gay part isn't the caviar, but who needs eight ounces of beluga caviar? Like, really? Shit isn't that good. Also, isn't caviar so late 90s? Like, gross. Anyway: "There don't seem to be specific rules on what can go on in there, but sources say Diddy and Jay-Z "relaxed and shared a drink while listening to the music." Right, sources. Wouldn't that be funny if Beyonce had to start looking out for Diddy? Related: we don't believe you, you need more people. [Page Six]
  
  
• Oh, good god, is this creepy and weird: a bunch of celebrities are being paid to attend this Australian quack doctor's marriage to a 26 year-old American ingenue. The ones Page Six knows about for sure? Jason Alexander and Fran Drescher. Ughghhh. Creepy. [Page Six]
  
  
• Ray Allen was going to buy a pair of $1,000 shoes, and then didn't. Thrifty? BALLER STATUS. [Page Six]
  
  
• Want to know what the creepy Amy Fisher people are up to these days? Here: they're involved with boxing matches with Rodney King. Like, when did the political celebrities of yesteryear start networking? Gross? [Page Six]
  
  
• Super supermarket bestseller novelist David Baldacci and John Grisham are homies, and when they get together, they basically just shit books that sell a bajillion copies before they even hit mass market paperback. Most involve lawyers and crime. Most are not as good as The Client. Also, John Grisham, so 90s, right? Like caviar. [Page Six]
  
  
• Security holes! They're all the rage. Literally: Mike Tyson's fight at LAX apparently wasn't captured on camera, thereby exposing a huge security blind spot at one of America's most trafficked airports. Everyone should hire Mike Tyson as a security consultant. Honestly. If I were a robber, and I saw a "This Place Was Secured By Mike Tyson, Who Will Eat Your Babies If You Come Any Closer" sticker, do you think I'd come any closer? Answer: no. [TMZ]
  
  
• The Hoff had a seizure! Noes! Yes. He did. He was not eating a hamburger when it happened. But he's still drunk, often, and they think that might've had something to do with it. He was not rushed to the hospital in slow motion. He's still there. Hopefully, he will get out, and get his shit together. [NYDN]

Okay, how 'bout we just get through today? Don't lie: some of you are excited to get back to the workweek tomorrow. You are probably New Yorkers, you probably work seven days a week, and you are just as fucked up and insane as the rest of us. Anyway! Savor this Sunday! It's yours. Or, if you're like me, just get through it. And still own that shit!

Anyway. Here:

[Photo via Bauer-Griffin]

• Hey there, Michael Lohan. You again? Yes, you again. Apparently, Lohan tried to get money for tapes where one could heard recorded conversations of himself, Dina, and Lindsay. Apparently, they were not worth the $100,000 asking price he wanted for them, because, you know, for one thing, you can get that kind of thing for free. And for another: even the Nixon Tapes didn't go for $100,000, as close as a phone call between Michael and Dina Lohan comes to the Nixon Tapes, I still don't see them going for a cool hundo grand. Naturally, this came with a denial:

  Michael told us that a six-figure demand for the tapes "was a complete lie," but when asked if he was paid for his interview, he said, "That's in the hands of my lawyers. They deal with that." He insisted, "This isn't about money or getting paid, it's about saving my daughter."

  But Zombie Radar says Lohan wanted money, they turned him down, and he gave them the tapes for "exposure." So, yes, Michael Lohan taped conversations of himself, Dina, and LiLo, and is trying to sell them for money under the guise of helping his own daughter and thus, his celebrity. If you haven't received it, your Father of the Year: Long Island District trophy is on the way, and you've now made nationals. Keep truckin', Michael. Also, I feel greasy just looking at your picture. [Page Six]
  
  

• Rihanna will not accept your offers of $10,000 bubbly wine, peasant strangers. She only drinks from the kind offerings of the Benevolent Sir Jay-Z, except when Beyonce is around, because Beyonce probably wants you to go away worse than Chris Brown does. Anyway. Rihanna refused a bottle of pricy bubbly from Braylon "I've Made It My Life's Mission To Savagely Fuck Up Foster's Fantasy Season Three Years In A Row" Edwards of the New York Jets because she didn't know who he was. You don't? You should! He's famous. Famously terrible. Also, this last sentence of the item:

  Also at the club was Mickey Rourke entertaining his girlfriend's mother from Russia.

  Wuuhhhhaaaatttt? [Page Six]
  
  

• Now that the revelation that he had one is out there, we've learned: Andre Agassi was absolutely terrified of his hairpiece going "rogue" as the New York Post put it. What does that even mean? It'd root for Pete Sampras? Or it'd start watching Suddenly Susan? [Page Six]
  
  
• Ha. Interview publisher Peter Brant's ex-wife, Stephanie Seymour, is looking hot. And Vanity Fair decided to rub it in his face by doing a photo spread of her, and Page Six took it a step further by writing the item, and I think Interview sucks, so you know, here we are. Peter Brant, your ex-wife is smokin'. [Page Six]
  
  
• Apparently, there's some British woman named Katherine Jenkins who we're supposed to care about, according to the British Tabloid Press? She's coming to America, I have no idea who she or why this matters. We're looking into whether or not we should give a shit at press time. All other questions can be referred to my publisher. Thank you. [Page Six]
  
  
• Does it surprise you that Shawn Wayans is a good dad and makes his kids laugh when they're crying? It does not surprise me. Damon Wayans, on the other hand... [Page Six]
  
  
• Anna Wintour said something nice about somebody getting a job and it's in Page Six. Enjoy. Savor, even. [Page Six]
  
  
• Message From Paris, to America: "You suck, you dumb, declasse morons. Also, stop ruining nightlife. Also, Jerry Lewis for President." [Page Six]
  
  
• Sarah Jessica Parker admits in an interview that she loves the smell of wet diapers. Ergo, shit. Which explains working on Sex and the City for so long. [NYDN]
  
  
• Please, Rihanna, please stop talking about how Chris Brown beat you, says Chris Brown. Please Chris Brown, go back to the cave from whence you came and kindly shut the fuck up, says the world. [NYDN]
  
  
• HA. TLC's advertisers were beginning to complain about Jon Gosselin's behavior before they shut down the show. What, stomping around France with the Ed Hardy guy is bad for TLC? They should've just made a show about that and called it something like "Men? Hardly." Whee! [NYDN]
  
  
• America's Sweetest Homophobe Carrie Prejan has a sex tape, and her mother saw it. Karma, hello. [TMZ]
  
  
• TMZ's celebrating their fourth birthday by feeding a bunch of celebrity children Columbian Grade-A Coke and filming them talking about their parents. No, I made that up. Happy 4th Birthday, TMZ! Harvey Levin, you're a charmer. [TMZ]

And...this will be an interesting day. It already is. Wake up, get your dancing shoes on. But stay seated and keep clicking on things. But don't stop #ChairDancing. Seriously! Don't. Learn from Spike Jonze:

[Photo via Bauer-Griffin]

Michelle Obama is the honorary chair of the commitee which focuses on "arts and humanities education, cultural diplomacy, economic revitalization through the arts and humanities and special events dedicated to recognizing excellence in these areas." Looks like all the time Anna spent raising money for Obama is finally paying off! Anna is one of 26 private citizens appointed to the committee that were announced on Monday night. We would say that she would take over the whole thing, except Hollywood power gay Bryan Lourd, the über-agent who is managing director and co-chairman of CAA, is also on the committee. If she can't get her main gay André Leon Talley to call in some velvet mafia favors, he's totally going to try to rule over this whole thing.

Joining them on the list are Sarah Jessica Parker, Ed Norton, Forest Whitaker, Alfre Woodard, Yo-Yo Ma, almost first lady Teresa Heinz Kerry, Kerry Washington, and a bunch of other people we don't care about.

Some may see this is a minor posting, but we see it as a stepping stone to her real destiny, being installed as the monarch of a small European country full of very fashionable people, tasteful architecture, and tennis champions, where only the very slender are allowed inside its borders.

[Pic of Wintour with Obama Social Secretary Desiree Rogers by Alex Geana]

Remember in The September Issue how Shaffer made a big deal about how she didn't want to work at a fashion magazine? Well, now she's not working in fashion, nor is she working at a magazine. Actually, the frat boys at College Humor are about as far from the socialites of Vogue as Shaffer could get. Maybe this is just a phase, like the time when we painted our nails all black and decided to become a vegetarian. It must be, because the Columbia Graduate was looking for a job in theater, but that mustn't have pissed mommy off enough. Hope fetching Van Veen's coffee is worth it!

Arianna Huffington has allowed her editors to run ultra-close ups of the aging body of Vogue's Anna Wintour ("what does she really look like?") and now actresses Lindsay Lohan ("unedited" and splotchy) and Elizabeth Hurley (a bit sweaty). It's a case of her unprofitable company's need for monetizable, non-political Web traffic (read: cheap celebrity clicks) running headlong into Huffington's need to suck up to celebs, who write for her site and come to her parties and help her seem very glamorous.

We won't lecture Huffington on her company's too-often-shoddy attempts to make money in the online publishing racket. At least, not in this post. But we will keep her honest: If Huffington is going to run unedited pictures of others, it's only fair there should be some unedited pictures of her out there.

Click any of the images below to pop-up large, hi-res versions. (Warning, this may slow down your web browser and ruin your lunch.) We've played by HuffPo rules: Posed, red carpet pictures with no editing. We've also excerpted a highlight, as Huffington did with Wintour.

UPDATE: Jessica Wakeman at The Frisky notes that the first chapter of Huffington's book On Becoming Fearless is about positive body image. Plastering someone's picture on HuffPo is certainly one way to nudge that person toward becoming "fearless."

If you want to show up at a party wearing something totally unique—unlike the hordes of Balloon Boys, Gosselins, and zombies—here are a few inspirations for you. Not everyone may get it, but if you have to explain it, that's a great way to meet people. See, we're here to make sure you look good and get laid. How servicey is that!

All but one of these ideas came right from you, the readers, and we just stole them from the comments of our last two Halloween posts and fleshed them out a bit. Thanks for the effort, and sorry if we ruined your concept by putting it out there for the world to copy.

Think you can do better? The comments are open!

Costume: McKinsey Executive
What You'll Need: A power suit, covered in fake blood. Old copies of Gourmet, Cookie, and Domino with a knife through them.
Works Best For: Media Insiders, those collecting severance from Conde.
Recommended By: Former English Major

Costume: Ernie Anastos the Fox New York anchor who coined the phrase "Keep Fucking that Chicken."
What You'll Need: A suit, and a whole raw chicken, attached to the crotch of your pants. To go that extra mile, get some bad face work done.
Works Best For: Carnivores, men.
Recommended By: HamburgerHotdog

Costume: Glee's Sue Motherfucking Sylvester
What You'll Need: A short blond wig, a track suit, a whistle, a protein shake, no uterus, and a ton of bitch quips.
Works Best For: Lesbians, gay guys, theater dorks, Gleeks.
Recommended By: NotSewFast

Costume: John Fitzgerald Page, the worst person in the world
What You'll Need: Just like BettyCrocker said, "'80s prepwear (yellow suspenders, cufflinks shaped like $$) and a total lack of self-awareness."
Works Best For: Gawker diehards, frat boys.
Recommended By: BettyCrocker

Costume: Mary Murphy, the exuberant judge on So You Think You Can Dance
What You'll Need: Fake tan, a brunette wig, a tacky outfit, a loud scream, and a miniture "hot tamale train" to circle your head.
Works Best For: Reality show fiends.
Recommended By: Spirit Fingers

Costume: Anna Wintour in line to see the The September Issue
What You'll Need: Tight jeans, loafers, Fashion's Night Out T-shirt, sunglasses, bob wig. Bonus points for a snake coat or bringing a friend dressed as Grace Coddington to laugh at you.
Works Best For: PR girls, skinny people, those with a mean glint in their eye.
Recommended By: Brian Moylan

[Image via Getty]

Come on, Anna, don't you have a free designer trench lying around the office that you can throw on instead? We had seen the coat before, but it was InStyle that tipped us off to the multiple occurrences, saying she wore it three times. Well, she actually has worn it four times, in four different cities. What, Anna, you thought that the people in each town weren't going to talk?

We don't know anything about the coat, including whether or not it's actually snakeskin. (But wouldn't it be more fun if it was?) Does anyone out there know who makes it or where she got it? With it's snake print and black ribbons up the front, it's very distinctive. While you figure that out, let's investigate this exotic creature in its native habitat.

[Images via Getty]

Date: September 16
Event: Proenza Schouler show
City: New York
Species: Rattlesnake—because we can only imagine the noise she's making while laughing.

Date: September 21
Event: Meadham Kirchoff show
City: London
Species: Cobra—she has her hood down because she's in a state of repose, but startle her and that bob will fly back, revealing her fangs.

Date: September 24
Event: Giorgio Armani show
City: Milan
Species: Black Mamba—Vicious and deadly with beady black eyes. Yup, sounds right.

Date: October 1
Event: 90 Years of Vogue Covers Party
City: Paris
Species: Eastern Ribbon Snake—it is known for eating its young. You better watch out, Carine Roitfeld, editor of French Vogue. The only thing stopping you from being Anna-Conde's next meal is Mario Testino.

• She's unlucky in love and the frequent butt of jokes, but now that her dog's dead, Jessica Simpson's friends think the singer "will put her into the worst place ever" and send her into a "tailspin." The final straw comes in many forms. [People]
  
  
• The investigation into Anna Nicole Smith's death took some twists this week. Court documents reveal that a pharmacist tried to warn Anna Nicole Smith's doctors that her over-the-top pill-popping was bad news. One described the drugs prescribed after her son's death as "pharmaceutical suicide." Meanwhile, court documents show proof that the doctors — psychiatrist, Dr. Khristine Eroshevich, and internist, Sandeep Kapoor — had sexual contact with Smith.[LA Times]
  
  
• John Travolta will take the stand in the Bahamas today to testify in a trial against a paramedic and lawyer who are accused of using information on his son's death to extort $25 million. [People]
  
  
• Nick Prugo, the 18-year old who police think broke in Lindsay Lohan's house, was spotted hanging out with the actress on the set of her straight-to-tv movie, Labor Pains. Prugo, by the way, was busted for cocaine possession back in February. [TMZ]
  
  
• Mad women were trying to get into Barack Obama's pants during the campaign, and that really pissed off Michelle. So, what did the future first lady do? She gave him the silent treatment. And, maybe, had a female campaign staffer sent into exile on Martinique. [Page Six]
  
  
• Tax dollars well-spent: The Clinton tapes reveal that secret service agents once had to maintain order when a drunken, underwear-clad Boris Yeltsin tried to hail a cab to go get pizza. [Daily Mail]
  
  
• David Hasselhoff went to the hospital this weekend because of ear infection medicine, not booze. That's what he says, at least. [Page Six]
  
  
• All of the Los Angeles Lakers have been invited to Khloe Kardashian's wedding to forward Lamar Odom. [TMZ]
  
  
• Oh, the humanity! Anna Wintour had to sit next to Alexa Chung and Pixie Geldof during a show at London's fashion week. And she doesn't look happy. [Daily Mail]
  
  
• Kate Gosselin's broke down in tears recently because she was filming a talk show, is going through a divorce and misses her eight children. [Page Six]
  
  
• Chaz Bono, who's currently transitioning from female to male, will write a memoir called Coming Clean. [TMZ]

We're now told the girl on the left is Lilly Burns, daughter of Ken. So imagine this panning over and zooming in on this photo while Morgan Freeman talks over it. [Ed. She's never heard that one before.]

Also, any ideas for captions in comments. The winner gets theirs up and possibly a sparkly chicken outfit. No promises.

She's had plenty of frowns lately. McKinsey is about to run rampant making cuts at Condé Nast, her imaginary boyfriend Roger Federer lost the U.S. Open because she had to go to the Marc Jacobs show, her daughter is a hobo, Grace Coddington totally upstaged her in in The September Issue, and no one spent any money during her faux charity event Fashion's Night Out. Even through adversity, she has turned those frowns upside down. Maybe the last affront of her Make-People-Like-Me Tour 2009 is to smile? Next thing you know, she'll be getting a new haircut!

The Picture Face:
Why It Happened: This is her slight smirk employed when she deigns to grant permission to have her photo taken. It is the gold standard by which all candid smile shots should be judged.
Wattage: 10

The This Jacket Is Made from 100,000 Tiny Snakes Smile
Why It Happened: When in the front row at Proenza Schouler, Anna realizes that her outfit caused the death of a legion of small helpless creatures. Also, proximity to daughter Bee Shaffer and her girl crush Rachel McAdams.
Wattage: 30

The Me Likey Smile
Why It Happened: Oscar de la Renta's wares put Anna into a fashion-based frenzy, and she has a flashback to her younger days as a nightclub trolling hipster.
Wattage: 60

The Touch of a Man Smile
Why It Happened: Designer Narcisco Rodriguez placed his warm hand on her cold flesh.
Wattage: 40

The Tell Me More Smile
Why It Happened: We originally thought this was a call from imaginary boyfriend Roger Federer, but it happened during the Marc Jacobs show, where she was causing him to lose. But, no, it is a call from Luca Brasi, telling her that something very bad has befallen the head of McKinsey. Also aided by the caffeine rush from her beloved Starbucks.
Wattage: 50

The Chip off the Old Block Smile:
Why It Happened: Bee Shaffer just called someone fat.
Wattage: 80

The Schadenfreude Smile:
Why It Happened: You would think she was happy to see frenemy Charlize Theron at the U.S. Open. No. She's just giddy because, judging by the look on Theron boyfriend Stuart Townsend's face, someone just screwed up on the court.
Wattage: 70

The Fresh Meat Cackle:
Why It Happened: The Wicked Witch of the Twelfth Floor lets loose a terror-inducing noise when she thinks of the hell she is going to put young designer Jason Wu through.
Wattage: 100

Conde Nast's Mckinsey-recommended budget cuts should be formalized any day now, and nobody's looking forward to it. The latest Conde in-house chatter today, from Crain's: Budgets could be chopped up to 25% (same scary number floating around last week). More specifically, one insider says: "This round is going to suck." Yes. However, the company "isn't going to become like [less opulent] Hachette." Ha. Heaven forfend.


There's a new survey out about how much Americans hate the media. Fabulous! How did we, the media, do? "63 percent of respondents said news articles were often inaccurate and only 29 percent said the media generally "get the facts straight"." Worst ratings ever! Tune in next year for the new Worst Ratings Ever.


Ha, here is a story of journalistic humiliation before Anna Wintour that we can all enjoy: A reporter knelt before her and asked her holy opinion on the question: "What is style?" Anna's reply: "You need to think of something more original." Ask her about poor people, next time!


Hard to believe that corruption would infiltrate the hallowed halls of Las Vegas local TV news, but here you have it: Just before the ABC affiliate there was set to air some stories on how an auto repair chain there was ripping people off, an anchor at the station called the company and advised them to hire her boyfriend, who just happens to be great at crisis PR! That anchor should be so fired, god I would totally pay money to fire her myself over webcam just for fun. God.

It's kind of like waking up in a strange man's bed with white powder all over your nose, but not really caring about your lost dignity because you managed to weasel your way into the Jane Hotel and hobnob with famous people. WWD reports that traffic to stores in Manhattan was up 50 percent thanks to the parties and celebrity appearances, even though the amount of revenue taken in wasn't up all that much.

Some consumers sought to connect, if not transact, with the designers making store appearances; others came to socialize and grab a drink, while a minority did actually shop. Several retailers told WWD that Fashion's Night Out, during which more than 700 stores stayed open until 11 p.m. and offered events, celebrities and designers, did lift the day's business. However, most emphasized the main purpose was to bring fun to the stores.

That's right. Since no one has any money anymore, stores are no longer for shopping, they are for getting drinks from Olsen twins, spotting Posh Spice, and watching André Leon Talley lounge around in his latest tent and host a game show. We can now close all the nightclubs, we have stores!

Our favorite quote is from Brooks Brothers bigwig Claudio Del Vecchio:

We do a lot of events, and we generally don't get a lot of business from them...The best thing about Fashion's Night Out is that a lot of people came out and are still looking at shopping in a positive way, even if they didn't shop.

Isn't that like discharging an anorexic from the hospital and saying, "well, she now has a positive view of food, even if she's still not eating." Everyone has a positive view of shopping. Who doesn't love shopping? We'd do it every day, if we could. The problem isn't that people don't like shopping, it's that they have no fucking money! No matter how many times you trot Oscar de la Renta out to sing with Barbara Walters, Bette Midler, and Sarah Jessica Parker, we're still not going to be able to afford the socks at his store. Until everyone can do something about that, all Fashion's Night Out is going to be is just what the fashion world doesn't need—another excuse to get drunk.

• As predicted, the DA dropped the charges against Shawne Merriman alleging that he'd physically abused Tila Tequila late one night last week. Because, really, when was the last time someone with the surname "Tequila" was a credible witness? Guilty until proven Herradura, at least. Meanwhile, Merriman continues on his jolly way back to the first week of the NFL season, where he will take place in a delicate sport populated by upstanding young men whose clean-cut reputation for this kind of thing moves further along. Oh, and lesson for all of you: don't go crazy on Twitter next time you get cops involved. Because it just means you're guilty or lying. [NYDN]
  
  
• Oh, and it sounds like Merriman proposed to have a foursome with him, Tequila (Tila), and two other women, who he had over at his house when Ms. Tequila showed up. At the time, Tila went batshit like any girlfriend reasonably would, and Merriman had to restrain her, and there's a one week gossip cycle. Next. [NYP]
  
  
• She also thinks it's a conspiracy on behalf of the city of San Diego to keep Merriman on the field. Yes. Because when I think "glue that holds the San Diego Chargers" together, I definitely think of Shawn Merriman. And by that, I mean: no. [E!]
  
  
• Heh. Anna Wintour totally got stalked by fans, and maybe, some people we know on Fashion's Night Out. She's bona fide! Apparently, she kept her cool when someone screamed at her about fur and also ran in heels down the street with her team chasing her, while fans tagged along. She lost it when trying to sign a shirt—a t-shirt?!?—with a sharpie. She got pissed at her staff, but really, she should be far more concerned that she comes after an item about someone with the surname Tequila. [Page Six]
  
  
• Aw. Bill Clinton had dinner with Chelsea and Laura Ling, who he rescued by swinging into North Korea, punching Kim Jong-Il in the face, grabbing onto a vine and Euna Lee, and swinging onto safe territory. Remember that? [Page Six]
  
  
• Charlie Sheen still thinks 9/11 was masterminded by George W. Bush and other evil forces. The funny thing is, if 9/11 was an inside job, the same people who are responsible for Two and a Half Men probably have something to do with it. Evil comes in all forms. Also, Charlie Sheen, WTF are you doing hanging out with a bunch of Salinger back-pocketing conspiracy theorists? Is this what happens when you've domestically abused every possible spouse in Hollywood? Dude, go to brunch at The Griddle or something. Like, get outside, you've got the money. Seriously. [NYDN]
  
  
• Mischa Barton told The View that intense pain from a wisdom teeth operation paired with mild painkiller use basically landed her in a psych ward. Basically, best excuse for going off your meds, like, ev-ar. Also: Marissa Cooper lives. [NYDN]
  
  
• Jennifer Aniston and Gerard Butler—and again, when did this guy become a movie star?—are maybe dating or maybe not, and the daily news has more speculation, but Christ, you need to see the photo that accompanies this Daily News story about it. Too much. Seriously. Too much. Also, if we're going to hear blind speculation on the nature of a relationship we really don't care about over and over again like this, the Post and the Daily News should at least put out betting lines on it. I wouldn't feel too bad making money over this. [NYDN]
  
  
• Mayor Bloomberg has Lady Gaga fever. He probably knows about the penis. [NYDN]
  
  
• Professional Today Show drunk Hoda Kotb went to Coney Island and found out there were no dressing rooms when training for her first triathlon out there. She ended up changing in her towncar. Try this one in a cab, someone. You'll end up with your face smeared into a partition and a blood-thirsty driver trying to peel you off of it. The state of private transportation in New York right now is sordid at best. [NYP]
  
  
• Jay-Z had a concert last night, and basically brought everyone in the rap business, New York, and The Electric Company out on stage with him. [NYDN]
  
  
• Speaking of "Run This Town," celebrity hooker Ashley Dupre was on the scene with Russel Simmons last night at a screening of the ultimate Save The Dolphins documentary "The Cove" last night. She's apparently doing yoga with Russell Simmons, who is, well, doing yoga with Ashley Dupre. [NYP]
  
  
• Tom Brady and Gisele might spring New England's Great Hope from Gisele's loins sometime before the playoffs, which would be great, because it might take Brady out of a late-season game that could inevitably help push ahead other fantasy owners who don't have him. Like me. Meanwhile, since Boston's ACLS chances are fucked, this is basically all they have to look forward to. Brady's kid's going to have the best childcare in the world. [NYDN]

You remember, don't you? I was sitting in the back room of the Beatrice about a year ago, drinking a Stella and checking out the 2 a.m. dance floor scene. You walked over and said, "Did you used to work at Page Six?" I agreed that I had, and you sat down next to me.

I was impressed that you were smoking a Marlboro Red and drinking what looked like a whiskey on the rocks. You told me that you had just filmed an episode of Weeds for Showtime, and asked what I was up to. I said I was working at Maxim, which was true at the time. Or maybe I said that I owned Maxim. Or owned all magazines. Let's just say I was trying to impress you.

I don't recall much about the rest of our conversation, other than you were very sweet, were wearing a lot of black eyeliner, and that your hair kind of smelled like clouds. But I do remember that once we were done with our surreal little chat, you said, "Well, I just wanted to say that you look really good tonight." And then you got up, walked across the room and sat with the friends you came with.

I wondered if I had just been totally goofed on. Because by that point in the night I was most likely a wobbly, red-eyed beast who was only capable of engaging women by doing that magic trick that I do with the handkerchief and the collapsible wand. You know the one.

But in retrospect I think that you were probably just in a really good mood. Had you not been Mary-Kate Olsen, I would probably tried to get your number, or at least asked if you wanted to take a ride in my van. But instead, I just smiled and accepted the compliment. Always wanted to say thanks for that. But I've never been able to, because that was the last time I saw you!

So I thought I'd finally have a chance to tell you in person last night when I saw you at Bergdorf-Goodman, where you and your twin sister Ashley were doing a relentlessly-hyped bartending appearance for Fashion's Night Out.

I knew it was a big deal because my cab driver actually asked if I was going to "the thing were the Olsen twins were bartending." We pulled up to a mob of several hundred eager young women clogging the front entrance. I talked my way into a side door and began to look for you in the oppressively-lit department store that reeked of decades of perfume-squirts and shoppers' flop sweat.

I navigated past the throngs of girls roaming the racks to get on the escalator to the 7th Floor, where you were allegedly pouring drinks. Even the escalator was jammed with squealing humanity, and I started getting claustrophobic and sweating a little myself. Honestly, I hadn't seen that much hubbub since the last time I attended a Jonas Brothers lunch box signing!

But once I got to the 7th floor, you were already gone. Mind you, this was only 7:30, and the event started at 7. When I said, out loud, to no one in particular, "Where are the Olsens?" a sad-eyed teenage girl told me that you had left the building. This was particularly devastating because at this point I really needed a drink.

So I pushed through another mob that was surrounding stylist Rachel Zoe as she was shot by about 20 photographers, towards the nearest fire exit. When I finally made it outside, a black Escalade slowed to a stop in front of the crowd spilling outside Bergdorf's. I thought maybe it was you, but it turned out to be designer Zac Posen, who popped out of the sun roof and waved at everyone.

I went to a few other insanely crowded boutiques before I headed back downtown: The Versace store, where the MisShapes deejayed and Taylor Momsen darted past me wearing a garter belt and a white dress shirt; the Calvin Klein store, where the disturbingly pretty male model Jamie Burke played a set with his band; and Barney's, where so many strangers rubbed up against me that I felt like I owed them money afterwards.

But you weren't at any of those places, so I hopped a cab back downtown and met some friends at the Jane Hotel, which is kind of like the Beatrice was, except not quite as much fun.

Your pal,

Chris

P.S.

Call Me!
Mary-Kate Olsen serves the drinks, for a change.
Sarah Jessica Parker can barely stand the funky music from Oscar de la Renta, Barbara Walters, and Bette Midler. Neither can we.
Fashion Victim.
Grace Coddington is the only Vogue staffer allowed to laugh.
This leatherman is the ghost of the the Meatpacking District past.
Someone tries to mess with The Tinz' perfection.
Radical knitting group tries to take over Barney's handbag department in hopes of reinvigorating interest in wool handbags.
Gossip Girl-on-girl action.
Food! You don't serve food at a fashion party!
Booze. Now that's more like it.
Blake, what if we told you there will be blow at the afterparty.
That's more like it.
Running out of live celebrities, Bloomingdale's hired wax Leonardo DiCaprio to make an appearance.
Fashion's Night Out works! This woman came out to shop for the first time since 1977!
Charlize Theron is beautiful. That is all.
The only way to shut Isaac Mizrahi up is to ask him to sing.
Don't knock these boots.
"Uh, who are we waiting for?"
Give Georgio Armani five.
Rhianna got the dates confused with July 23, which is Fashion's Day Out At The Beach.
Anna Wintour has decided to start talking shit about Sienna Miller to her face.
Jill Zarin inspects her human avatar.
The rare site of Lindsay Lohan shopping.
Last night Jonathan Adler and Simon Doonan made that rhino while playing Ghost.
André Leon Talley shows off his latest Snuggie.
Victoria Beckham thought she was showing up for a literacy benefit.
Michael Kors tries to slap Debra Messing when she points out the step and repeat matches his skin tone exactly.

Sure, mama could probably get her some sweet gig in fashion but what is Bee Shaffer, just some rich mama's girl out to waste her life in a field that doesn't have real world impact? No. She wants to be in theater. And apparently Anna Wintour's name means nothing in the competitive field of theater, because, why would it, right? From Gatecrasher:

In fact, the 22-year-old former Teen Vogue contributing editor went on a staggering 24 interviews since graduating from Columbia in May - all of them unsuccessful.

Uh, think we've nailed down the problem here, "Bee" "Shaffer"-Wintour: if you worked at Teen Vogue, you have obviously seen Twilight.

But that's not your only problem. Your other, main problem is you don't name-drop enough. What's wrong with you, crazy girl? We have a Gawker internship with your name ("Anna Wintour's daughter") on it.
[Pic: Getty]

Just a few months ago, Vogue editor Anna Wintour was fighting negative press and rumors of a replacement. Then she came up with a plan...She allowed the documentary director R.J. Cutler's movie cameras behind the closed doors of Vogue's offices in Times Square...Now [The September Issue] movie is a hit. Anna is bigger than ever.

So, if she came up with a plan three months ago, she must have then gone back into the past to September of 2007, told past Anna to make the documentary happen so that future Anna could save her job. Did she have a flux capacitor installed in her town car? Yes, we agree that Anna has orchestrated this whole thing—movie release, Letterman appearance, Fashion's Night Out—but this strike has been years in the making. Anna is nothing if not shrewd.

Tina's theory is that this isn't a Make-People-Like-Me Tour at all, but that she's trying to play up her caricatured bitchiness.

After so much reality TV and confessional celebrity interviews, the public is tired of accessible stars. Who needs them to be Just Like Us? Just Like Us means just as boring as we are. It's mystique today that everybody craves. What's she really like behind the dark glasses? Anna's appeal is that she has no interest in pretending to be human.

Ouch. And this is a very public swipe, considering the long simmering rivalry between the two that goes back a generation, when Wintour's father, the editor of London's Daily Standard would run bad reviews of the movie's produced by Brown's father. Now Brown is using her digital instrument to serve Wintour backhanded compliments.

But as one ex-high-powered magazine editor to a current high-powered magazine editor, Brown does have some sympathy.

But maybe Anna isn't a bitch, just a smart, hard-headed businesswoman doing her job...I guess you get called a bitch when you get things done.

Sounds like something Tina might know from experience.

We took the V (for Vogue) train all the way out to Queen's Center in Rego Park, Queens to find the queen of the fashion world. The Mall itself looks like any other mall in any city in America, and the Macy's is like any other Macy's.

When we arrived, it appeared totally empty, a security guard pointed us toward the Fashion's Night Out event, and that's where all the people were clustered.

We talked to Keyana, one of the girls who works in the store. She said that on a normal Thursday, the place is packed with shoppers. Tonight, there was no one there but the melee surrounding the upcoming event. So, there are fewer people shopping than usual? "Yeah," Keyana said. Did she know what all this was about? "There are some people coming, but I don't know who." Who do you want to come. "Tommy Hilfiger or Kimora Lee Simmons. I'd want to see them."

On the other side of the stage was the line for the fifty people who got tickets to have their Fashion's Night Out T-Shirt signed by Wintour and Michael Kors, who was also in attendance. A group of nice ladies in line said they got there at 4 pm, an hour before the event started, and got tickets no problem. They had come up from south Jersey just for the event. "We wanna see Michael Kors. We're big fans," one said. They each bought a T-shirt, and one woman spent $80, so Anna's scheme is working—a little.

Nearby, Rose wasn't lucky enough to get in line. Why was she there. "I love Project Runway. I just want to see Michael Kors," she said. "Some Anna woman is going to be here too, but I don't know who she is. Some magazine woman. I know who Nina Garcia is though."

The CEO of Macy's comes out and introduces Kors and Kate Hudson. Wait, no Anna? The pair introduce the cast from Hair who do a few numbers. Then Mayor Bloomberg comes on the stage and introduces Wintour and Diane von Furstenberg. Bloomberg says when Wintour and DVF first pitched him the idea was crazy, but no one says, "No" to these two women. How true.

Wintour and Kors come sit at a table and sign autographs for the 50 people in line. Wintour is uncharacteristically all smiles and greats each person very pleasantly. We're just trying to get a good photo. There is a huge rush to get pictures of the two at the table.

While standing there a nice older Latina asks me to take a picture with her cell phone. I kindly oblige. I hand her back her phone and she says, "Mayor Bloomberg?" No, he left. "Oh, who is it?" Anna Wintour. "Not Bloomberg?" Sorry.

Suddenly a woman starts screaming something about Anna Wintour being the enemy because she wears fur and how Vogue should be ashamed of itself. Security quickly sees her out. We can't see Anna's face at this point, but she appears unfazed.

After about 20 minutes it's time for the bob to leave, and we snap a pic of it from behind. "Who was that?" an older lady nearby asks. "She's the head of Vogue," her friend replies. Did the pair enjoy the event? "It was fun, but it was so short." Are you going to stay and shop? "Not here. We're going to JCPenney."

Anna was off to Bloomingdale's on Lexington Avenue, and we followed. This time, we were behind the press line, waiting with the rest of the paparazzi and a swarm of people who were there to see Gwen Stefani. It appears that Anna was a last minute addition to the roster. When the PR girl comes out and tells the paps that Gwen and Anna will be coming out, they get all upset. Apparently, a photo of Gwen and Anna is worth way less than one of Gwen alone.

One shooter asks his friend, "What's happening?" "Anna Wintour is coming out with Gwen." "Who's that?" "She's the real life Devil Wears Prada."

The pair come out and everyone takes their pictures. After a minute, Anna pushes Stefani into the spotlight and leaves with a quick "Goodbye, Gwen." Stefani follows her. The photogs are all in a tizzy because they didn't get their solo Gwen shots. After a couple minutes, Stefani comes back and the flashbulbs start going off and everyone is shouting orders for poses.

We think it's rude that on Anna's special night, everyone would rather see some pop star turned designer. We leave in protest, happy with our blurry pictures and knowing that we got close to our obsession twice in one day.