Their hedge funds have blown up here and there, but unlike the investment banks, they are still very much in business. They have hurriedly pulled themselves into defensive positions inside their shells, like turtles. Their Armageddon, if any, will not come for two more days, which is to say, Tuesday, Sept. 30.

Most hedge funds open up a crack on Sept. 30, Dec. 31, March 31 and June 30 to give investors the chance to “redeem” their investments, meaning take their money out. These moments are called gates, like a series of gates in a prison. The gate is the limit, the fixed percentage of your money, that the fund will allow you to take out at one time. Even with these strict caps on withdrawals, some funds may end up nothing but shells.

But hedge funders are still superior, Wolfe added, because only they practice the magic of "saving," leaving them with a "nut" that will be just fine when their funds collapse, because they don't lead ostentatious lives of excess like investment bankers. Ha!

In any case, thanks for the warning, Tom. For a minute there we were all worried the torrent of horrific bad news might slow down this week!

“I think that people are being more conservative… There’s a dichotomy: On one side, people are skimping on certain things and then, on the other side, you see these fabulous clubs again. There are extremes on both sides. From being in the PR industry, maybe deciding not to serve hors d’oeuvres. Or, instead of a big name DJ, let’s get an unknown. Instead of paying an appearance fee for an actor, maybe go with a socialite.”

We might direct him to the film Bon Voyage, set in France in 1940. As the NYT said, it "juggles myriad characters in various states of panicked self-absorption at a turning point in history."

[Photo: Nikola Tamindzic for Home of the Vain]

The whole thing, starting with the subprime, is the fault of the computer. I was just talking to a banker the other day, and not that long ago, 20 years ago, an investment banking house, let’s say, Lehman Brothers, when it got a package of mortgages, they would go through every mortgage, every single one, and they’d throw out the ones that just seemed absurd, they just wouldn’t accept them. Things used to arrive on paper. Today things arrive on a screen, and a screen is back lit, and one of the biggest pains in the neck is trying to read something dully written and complicated on a computer screen. It will drive you nuts—I mean, try it sometime.

It's actually true that the financial crisis was caused in part by certain Collateralized Debt Obligations and other complex, devil's brew financial vehicles whose risk could only be assessed — or claimed to be assessed, really — using computer models and whose contents were poorly understood if examined in the first place. But the proper response to an investment you don't understand is to refrain from buying it, not to blame the tool that made it possible.

After all, as Wolfe should know, investment banks only started caring about boring old home mortgages when computer technology made it possible to quickly bundle and sell them on the global market. And good luck running a hedge fund without heavy use of computers and the internet.

Furthermore — wait, why are we seriously arguing finance with a novelist? Isn't there something else we can talk about, Tom?

Did I mention to you I’m pimping out my cars?

Much better!

[Observer]

IvyGate

One of my friends at Bank of America texted me, 'Hey, we might be buying you guys.' ...I was shocked I would be joining a lower-tier commercial bank.

...Changing compensation will obviously change the attitude of students toward the industry. They might go to med school or law school instead [the horror!]. This is a sad week.

...I'm not sure we want state-owned enterprises.

If you think the complaints are bad now, just wait until more hedge funds start closing.

Come on, federal government, approve a $700 billion bailout for Wall Street with no caps on executive compensation so these poor Ivy Leaguers can get back to improving the American economy again. What are they supposed to do, light their cigars with twenties??

[IvyGate]

(Image from Wall Street via National Journal)

Emily's literary style is informed by a lifetime of urban experience:

The Clinton Years were glory days and we loved Rudy. Booming economy (or starting to), and it was Court TV…I think we also had a million snow days that year. Oklahoma City scared the hell out of us and the WTC was attacked that year too i think (or maybe it was in 5th grade–regardless, that was really really creepy), but things were still good. Hey, even my grades at Dalton were finally getting good!

Her ability to transcend hardship resonates with her fellow strivers in the Rotten Apple:

I guess a girl in New York can’t win. One minute I’m getting accused of having an eating disorder for being honest about my reluctance to eat a burger in the Hamptons and the next thing I know, I find out that guys see me as pigging out because I go nuts on foods like lobster salad.

Can you relate? It’s the reality of New York life.

Still, she's unafraid to give the unvarnished truth about her impressions of a new bar, damn the consequences:

I sat with a girl I hadn’t seen since 9th grade–now a lawyer–and we compared Park Avenue colorists, and she was with my other lawyer friends.

It’s a carefully crafted, intimate mix of people and if you get New York, you understand that this is a really good place to hang out and it’s only going to get better. But it would be ridiculous for me to sit here and write fluff. You’re not going to get that on this blog.

Who among us can say that?

[Pic via NYM]

"Last year at the end of school, literally days before finals, the 8th graders (now 9th graders) got themselves into some more Facebook trouble. If you've ever seen the 'Ginger' episode of South Park [about how redheaded children are evil], they made a group/event entitled "International Smack A Ginger Day", and 3 out of the 4 administrators of the group got expelled (I think the fourth is still around, not sure).

It's been pretty big, people have been upset, and everyone who was in the event got either on probation or suspended. At last count, before the page got taken down by one of the admins, it had about 40 or so Horace Mann kids, according to the teachers at the assembly. Also, on the day it was set to be, there was "additional security".. aka cops up and down the street. Overexaggerating?"

Huh. Anybody have more anonymous information? Let us have it! And don't go around smacking gingers, kids.

Although, if you think about it—how many gingers do we know that have been elected to public office or run major corporations? Not many...

Their efforts soon drew the backing of prominent educators and downtown residents: Bob Kerrey, the president of the New School, and his wife, Sara Paley, a television and film writer; the actor and writer John Leguizamo; Richard Robinson, the president and chief executive of Scholastic; Jonathan Mintz, the city's consumer affairs commissioner; and Ms. Bell's boss, Graydon Carter, editor of Vanity Fair and an owner of the celebrity hangout the Waverly Inn.

All the hottest educational trends are represented — think of "hands-on learning and community involvement" as Greenwich High's truffled macaroni and cheese. There will even be excursions to Chinatown to learn about the poors.

If you time things right, your precious young creation may be able to matriculate from Greenwich High (and it's award-winning student newspaper!) to Carter's exclusive (and surely forthcoming) little West Village university. Once there he'll earn pocket change as a Waverly bus boy, which he will blow at Carter's Monkey Bar, where he'll schmooze his way into a Vanity Fair internship and then staff position that should see him nicely through the rest of his days.

[Times]

Yesterday afternoon California-based Dwell [magazine] filed suit against Moinian in US District Court, alleging that Moinian's [new financial district development, named Dwell95]—which was designed by Philippe Starck and officially launched on Monday—violates a trademark held by the magazine since 1999. The mag argues that not only did Moinian rip off the name, his company also "depicted this trademark using a font and style that are nearly indistinguishable from the font and style used by Dwell."

Cityfile thinks the Observer profile of the son might have been a plant, designed to generate some good PR just as his dad was getting sued. But that may be a stretch— Observer rich kid profiles are never really "good" PR.

[NYO, Cityfile]

In the Daily News' Rush & Molloy gossip column today, there was this about Dicaprio:

Leo? The good times find him. The other night, at a Chelsea club, an exquisite brunette glommed onto him. (Isn't that disgusting, guys?) But we're assured they did not exchange phone numbers.

Ha, but guess who was hanging on the other arm of that brunette? Ron Burkle, of course! An eyewitness tipster tells us that the 55-year-old rich white guy was on the other side of the girl with his hand on her leg, while she was simultaneously caressing Leo's head. Uh, kinky, I guess.

This behavior will do nothing to keep Burkle out of the gossip spotlight. Neither will his insatiable thirst for models. We also hear that not long after the Leo-brunette outing, Burkle scored a front row seat at the William Rast show at Fashion Week. After the show, "he hung around the "VIP area"
and mercilessly hit on May [Andersen]"—to the point that the model started calling people on her cell phone while Burkle stood there, just so she didn't have to talk to him.

Ron Burkle seems to lack a bit of grace. And good sense. Money can buy many things, but it will never buy him a face and body that can compete with Leonardo DiCaprio's. Nor will it buy a complete press blackout of all his high-flying partying. Although it's obvious that Burkle (along with some Jesse Jackson relatives) is interested in establishing a friendly media beachhead with Radar—we hear he went in for a meeting with those folks just last week.

It's not enough, Ron! You're uncontrollably drawn to models and parties. Either embrace that lifestyle publicly and accept the ridicule you'll get for it, or give it up. It's just like that unreachable fantasy featuring you, Leo, and that girl: you can't have it both ways.

"Jay Jopling, Mr Hirst’s London dealer with whom he has worked for nearly 20 years, and a team from Larry Gagosian, his New York dealer, sat in prominent places in two rows at the centre of the auction room. Their support came despite the fact that they had been cut out altogether from the Sotheby’s auction and only learned about it in May when news of the sale was about to be made public. At the time Mr Gagosian told Frank Dunphy, Mr Hirst’s manager: “It sounds like bad business to me. It’ll be confusing to collectors. It’s a bad move.”

[The Economist]

The poors might sympathize with the plight of the Lehman investor relations VP married to a fancy Yale doctor, since it can't be easy being a gay in the testosterone-soaked world of financial services. The VP for junk bond sales (pictured), however, is pure schadenfreude fodder.

Teddy Roosevelt may be charming; and we're terrified of the wrath of his new wife Serena Torrey, who runs marketing and business development for New York magazine. But the uninitiated reader will note only that the Lehman exec is the great-great grandson of Theodore Roosevelt, and probably got his doomed job through, you know, connections.

From his Times bio. "His father is a managing director and investment banker at Lehman Brothers in Manhattan; he is also the chairman of the firm’s council on climate change." As a tipster put it, "sure hope he cleaned out his desk before heading off to the honeymoon!"

[Idea via Choire, Photo New York Times]

Hang on. Expect to see shell-shocked bankers, and greedy-eyed hedge funders, in the streets of Manhattan.

The Mother of All Mondays [WSJ]

Wall Street Prepares for a Grim Monday [CNBC]

With all of the journalistic luminares on the VF roster, you'd think the magazine had all the talent it could handle. You'd be wrong. According to the October issue, former Viacom CEO Tom Freston, and Carter pal, is now "Our Man in Kabul," while restaurateur and Waverly Inn habitué Brian McNally is now "Our Man in Saigon." So, in addition to mentioning his cronies in the magazine, Graydon has taken to hiring them (these are assuredly paid positions, not just dilettantes on parade, right?). Fair enough, this is the privilege of power, but, the question remains: Why does the White-Haired Wonder have to sound like he's running Her Majesty's Foreign Service rather than editing a glossy?

Nonetheless, one can just imagine Freston (above right), after tea with the mujahideen, riding on the back of a mule high into the Hindu Kush, and maybe, just maybe, finding You Know Who...

Stewie Griffin is Mr. MacFarlane's biggest breakout character. Stewie's ovoid head emblazons T-shirts, posters and merchandise that often match the subversive tone of "Family Guy," such as figurines outfitted in bondage gear. Total merchandise sales have climbed into the "hundreds of millions" of dollars, Fox says. Though it doesn't touch the fortune that "The Simpsons" generates with hundreds of licensees, "Family Guy" currently has 80 licensees. Discussions are underway with a brewery that would make real cans of Pawtucket Patriot Ale, Peter Griffin's brew of choice.

Do the Bartman! And did you know that MacFarlane is, like, an actual stressed-out boss of an entire army?

Mr. MacFarlane leads a team of about 320 producers, writers, animators and support staffers, but he oversees all aspects of production. Running late for a massage therapy appointment recently, he demonstrated how tension in his neck kept it from swiveling more than a few inches.

Still to come from MacFarlane: "a live-action sitcom for Fox," a Family Guy movie, and "a feature-length buddy comedy that he's planning with [Seth] Green." By then the backlash should be something to behold.

[I still think he's funny.]

[WSJ]

“I got scared,” Mr. Goldhirsh told The Observer. “I personally got scared and I personally got stressed out about my ability to execute and really actualize the potential of the whole thing. And that for me wasn’t fun at all.” (Mr. Goldhirsh remains chairman of the company.)

The new CEO is Jonathan Grenblatt, 37, who has an MBA and sold the "Ethos" bottled water company to Starbucks for $8 million. He has moved to "really actualize the potential" of Good by signing on such "Good" advertisers as British Petroleum and diversifying the magazine into Web video.

Goldhirsh is fighting to keep what he called the company's "fail hard, fuck it all, let’s just do it" spirit, but he's also still ending his conversations with "peace, brotha."

[Observer]

The buccaneers made off with a booty of $183,180 in cash in the attack on the craft, which was anchored off the French island.

Jewelry and artwork were also swiped in the daring raid that took only 10 minutes before the buccaneers sped away with their loot.

There was no immediate estimate of art and jewelry loss, but it could run into the hundreds of thousands of dollars.

No word on who the faaabulous, now-poorer guests on board were, each of whom reportedly paid almost $250k for a week on the boat. The yacht is owned by NY real estate mogul Jonathan Leitersdorf, so any readers who work for him, please get us some names. And cash. Thx.

[NYP]

"The days when Sag Harbor was known as a writers' colony are over," says a local estate agent. "They can't afford the rent any more." Indeed, to rent a three-bedroom cottage from Memorial Day to Labor Day (the period that constitutes the summer in America) now costs at least $75,000.

Part of the problem is that the book-publishing business is in dire straits...

According to one New Yorker staffer, "It is becoming increasingly tough to score a decent advance, even as a household name."

Luckily Toby Young was able to use a tiny fraction of his movie money to secure a spot on the front lines of the Hamptons to bring this news to the people of the UK. Meanwhile Adam Gopnik can't even get $250K for his next book of essays on raising children like the French! Where's the justice?

[Independent UK. Toby Young's most notable contribution to American culture was actually just to play party host to our own Ian Spiegelman.]

everything in me says not to engage this question, but sheila [ed. note: not our Sheila] you should know that i haven’t slept more than 5 hours in recent memory. and please try to imagine how it would be if every aspect, every second, every thought, every moment of your life felt like it was conceivably part of your ‘work’. you speak of clubbing? dining? hamptons? my god the hamptons? the truth is that even my weekend in bedford wasn’t entirely restful because i still felt ‘on duty’ because i knew i’d be writing about it. and nothing i do when i’m off right now will be entirely ‘vacation’ either. my laptop is with me wherever i go, and i’m always in ‘blog’ mode. and that’s okay. i love this and i want to do it. this is what i’ve chosen to do with my life.

Fuckin A right. We can only imagine.

this misfit thing? my weight was a physical manifestation of being a misfit but i’ve been a misfit my entire life. the only thing i can do–the only thing i know how to do–is write about people, places, things, experiences. past, present, future. Be the ultimate narrator.

God forgive me for covering this.

[Emily Brill]

From the NYT:

“My cousin was working here as a freak, and he got fired, so they hired me,” said Jose, who has been working for only a week at Shoot the Freak, a popular game on the Coney Island Boardwalk near Stillwell Avenue.

“...I was working at a beauty products store, doing inventory, but my brother said, ‘Yo, they need another freak; you should do it,’ ” he said, still texting. “It definitely pays more than the beauty products store. I was making $7.50 an hour. Plus, you’re outside. I meet a lot of girls out here, even though I’m wearing the costume and I’m the freak. They’re interested in meeting the freak.”

The owner of Shoot the Freak, Anthony Berlingieri, said his freaks earned $100 to $200 a day. He said Jose’s cousin was fired because he could not wake up early enough to get to work on time, at 11 a.m.

[Image is commenter Strikethrough's creation.]

There are five kids in this fam. You know, there are tons of agencies out there where you can find a nanny. Beware any family not smart enough (or too cheap to) hire someone through them! But:

"I decided to get going on Schooled at the Carlyle Hotel where my dad often took me for breakfast before beginning my Dalton days. The main dining room was always a power scene on weekday mornings and I’d leave feeling charged. These unique ways I sometimes began my days weren’t atypical for children who grew up in ‘the bubble’. When applied correctly, privilege cultivates intellect... I wasn’t special for the fact that I had caught Meet the Press or read so and so’s Op-Ed."

It sounds like these Dalton kids are indeed very high-minded! So what's a Dalton grad like Brill doing blogging for free about the Hamptons and C-list party-benefits?

[Essentially Emily]

In the first meeting of my first seminar of my first year, Kushner's son Jared entered my classroom and promptly took the seat across from mine, sharing the room, so to speak. I was drawing an annual salary of $15,500 (£7,700) and borrowing the remainder for survival in Cambridge, in order that he might be given the best possible education. Jared later purchased The New York Observer for $10 million, part of which he made buying and selling real estate while also attending my seminar. As publisher, one of his first moves was to reduce pay for the Observer's stable of book reviewers. I had been writing reviews for the Observer in an effort to pay my debts.

The final punch, at the end of the essay: "When intellectuals act as clerks and students act as clients, how do college teachers differ from corporate accountants? ...the sedulous banality of the rich degrades teaching into a service-class preoccupation whose chief duty is preparing clients for monied careers."

We hear the kids at state schools are much nicer—and in no position to give your freelancing job a pay cut so soon after they graduate.

[Times Higher Education]

[Photo: Nicholas Roberts/NYT]

Beeler indicated he might not granted Smith the divorce if not for the videos.

"Had defendant not posted her videos on YouTube, a case could be made that her previous marital misconduct did not rise to the level of cruel and inhuman treatment, a claim that ironically she herself made on YouTube," Beeler wrote.

Tricia-Walsh Smith plans to appeal. But odds are the videos will be on hold for a while.

[Post]

Bohemian Grove has been arguing amongst themselves for the last few years about a plan to cut down and harvest some of the trees in their forest, ostensibly to prevent forest fires. Member John Hooper resigned in 2004 because of the plan (even though he owns his own forest, which also harvests trees.) Hooper asked Vanity Fair's Shoumatoff (they are former Harvard classmates) to write about the tree-cutting for Vanity Fair, according to the San Francisco Chronicle.

The connection between Hooper and Shoumatoff pissed off the pro-harvesting club members. They sent a letter to VF editor-in-chief Graydon Carter, but Shoumatoff didn't quit the story. In fact, he told the club's PR flacks to talk and quit hiding information. (Spy magazine infiltrated Bohemian Grove in 1989, when Carter was editor there.) An excerpt from that article, written by Philip Weiss:

"At this point some hamadryads (tree spirits) and another priest or two appeared at the base of the main owl shrine, a 40-foot-tall, moss-covered statue of stone and steel at the south end of the lake, and sang songs about Care. They told of how a man's heart is divided between "reality" and "fantasy," how it is necessary to escape to another world of fellowship among men. Vaguely homosexual undertones suffused this spectacle, as they do much of ritualized life in the Grove. The main priest wore a pink-and-green satin costume, while a hamadryad appeared before a redwood in a gold spangled bodysuit dripping with rhinestones. They spoke of "fairy unguents" that would free men to pursue warm fellowship, and I was reminded of something Herman Wouk wrote about the Grove: 'Men can decently love each other; they always have, bur women never quite understand.'"

Anyway, Shoumatoff was captured in the woods by a plumber moonlighting as a security guard on the night of July 13th. Update! We hear that he got into the club briefly before being thrown out, contrary to the SF Chroncle reports that he was caught while sneaking in.

Lapo Elkann: Fiat heir (a fortune worth $7 billion); notorious Italian Playboy. Likes: transsexuals, heroin. Spent three months in a coma in 2005 after an overdose of the latter. Has been rumored to have dating Mary Kate Olsen; has recently turned "workaholic entreprenuer," according to the Observer.


The Getty family: Jean Paul Getty Sr. built his fortune through Getty Oil; John Paul Jr. led a druggier lifestyle (his second wife died of a heroin overdose.) Then his 16-year-old son was kidnapped in 1973—Dad ignored it, figuring the boy was trying to get money from him through the ransom. (The kidnappers sliced off the kid's ear and mailed it to his family, which finally made them pony up the $3 mil. The kid became an addict; John Paul Jr.'s daughter got AIDS.) Actor and former teen pinup Balthazar Getty is part of this family; he's only been to rehab once.

Christina Onassis: Daughter of self-made shipping mogul Aristotle Onassis—whose second wife was Jackie Kennedy—Christina never got along with her stepmother. When she inherited half her father's wealth, she mainly wasted it; she was married and divorced four times. Christina died alone in a country club in Argentina at age 37 from a sleeping pill/weight-loss pill combo.




Raphael de Rothschild: From a major French banking family; he was found dead of a heroin overdose on the sidewalk in New York in 2000. He was 23. (The family had many problems; Raphael's cousin Ben was also a heroin addict, and another relative hanged himself in 1996.)

Paris Hilton: Self-promoter and unwitting self-tape star, heiress to some of the Hilton hotel fortune.

Now don't you all feel a little better about being poor?

[A legal expert] said that generally speaking, it’s OK to take aerial photos of objects that are readily visible to the naked eye, since they’re taken from public airspace.

The possibility of trouble arises when people use high-powered telephoto lenses. If a photo reveals a home’s security operations or shows close-ups of people, there could be an argument for an invasion of privacy claim. She said that “capturing someone sitting on their patio sunbathing nude” could create a legal challenge, but added that “if you’re just showing that someone has this lovely home, I’m not sure that would be a compelling argument for a claim.”

You heard it straight from the WSJ: you are well within your rights to try to "incidentally" snap a photo of Bill Gates in the buff. Because you like his lovely home. And thank god for that. Without these rights, the media would never get jealousy-producing shots like these:

Rodney Propp's $40 million Hamptons spread, from Vanity Fair:

A mere glimpse of Abigail Johnson's hideously valuable Massachusetts manse:

You get the idea, plebe.

[WSJ]

• Obaigbena's plan to clean up Nigeria has been to host annual parties celebrating officials who stand out as examples of good governance. Attendees at his parties include dangerous model Naomi Campbell, foreign presidents, jugheaded political hack Paul Begala, and Bill Clinton.
• "Mr. Obaigbena has also held a mammoth summer concert series promoting Nigeria’s economic and political progress, the ThisDay festival, luring the likes of Beyoncé, Jay-Z, Diddy and Shakira to perform in Lagos."
• "On Aug. 1, it travels to the Kennedy Center in Washington, headlined by Beyoncé and Seal."
• Critics of Obaigbena in his country say all this partying and celebrity shit does nothing for the poor rural Nigerians who need help the most. But he disagrees. “'We have the longest period of democracy in Nigeria, ever,' said the mogul in March, sitting in a suite at the St. Regis in New York."
• "An elegant man with a blunt, chiefly demeanor and a taste for bespoke Lanvin suits, he maintains a home in Lagos, a country estate in Nigeria’s Delta State and a penthouse at the Ritz Carlton in Washington...'I like to live modestly and discreetly,' said Mr. Obaigbena, with no trace of irony."

He also hangs out with Ice-T and Lil Kim. Starving Nigerians, you are now much more popular with celebrities!

[NYT]

Name: Sumner Redstone
Age: 85
Position: Chairman, National Amusements (Viacom, CBS, MTV, etc.)
What kind of old man is he?: Befuddled
Trick in staving off old age: Fights with daughters.
Key quote: "I'm gonna fight death as long as I can. I like it here. I don't want to go anywhere else"
Health threat: Face of porcelain

Name: Rupert Murdoch
Age: 77
Position: Chairman, News Corp
What kind of old man is he?: Vindictive
Trick in staving off old age: A much younger wife.
Key quote: "You can't be an outsider and be successful over 30 years without leaving a certain amount of scar tissue around the place."
Health threat: Enveloped in skin folds.

Name: Sam Zell
Age: 66
Position: Owner, Tribune Company
What kind of old man is he?: Gnomish
Trick in staving off old age: Fights with his employees.
Key quote: "Fuck you [OLD AGE!]"
Health threat: Balding

Name: Barry Diller
Age: 66
Postion: Chairman and CEO, IAC
What kind of old man is he?: Angry
Trick in staving off old age: Fights with fellow businessmen.
Key quote: "I thought they were talking about eye charts. I don't see anything full-blown." [On being called a "visionary"]
Health threat: Tooth gappage.

Name: Hugh Hefner
Age: 82
Postion: Owner, Playboy Enterprises
What kind of old man is he?: Desperately youthful
Trick in staving off old age: Parties, hordes of women, pajamas.
Key quote: “In many ways, I'm younger than I was 20 years ago."
Health threat: Priapism.

While the rabble may have padded about in cut-off rags in days past, respectable members of society are only now dipping a toe into the short-waters:

A growing number of style-conscious men are becoming more comfortable with the idea of showing some leg during the hot summer months. No longer does it seem remarkable to see men—straight men—dressed in slim-fitting shorts that hang well above the knee, from conservatively dressed 9-to-5 Manhattan types, to Williamsburg hipsters who wear their cutoffs so high, it evokes the lyrics to the 1993 R&B hit “Dazzey Duks” (or The Dukes of Hazzard, depending on one’s age).

Moneyed gentlemen including Ed Westwick, Devendra Banhart, Sean Avery, and even Graydon Carter have donned short-pants at one time or another, the intrepid news-paper reports. The news-man queries several of his close personal friends to determine how this trend is going over within the media:

Michael B. Dougherty, a research editor at Gotham magazine, [says] that there’s “something really defeatist” about shorts, kind of like wearing sweatpants when you get to the point of not caring how you look[.]

But the practice is deemed more acceptable within the devil-may-care confines of Green-Point:

And if you ask John McSwain, who works as an assistant editor for Vice magazine’s online television network, VBS.tv, he’ll tell you that four to seven inches above the knee (or perhaps even higher!) is about right.

Mr. McSwain, 27, of Greenpoint, is a shorts enthusiast who loves all styles, from Fred Perry tennis shorts to those little cutoff jeans that, when worn by women, are sometimes referred to as “boom-booms.” (Mr. McSwain alternately calls them his “redneck cutoffs.”)

"Shorts" fit for public prancing may be purchased at Barney's for $160, the story notes. But those with proletarian urges can find versions fit for slumming at the "American Apparel" millinery:

Mathew Swenson, a spokesman for the company, said the male audience for short shorts, once exclusively the attire of trend-setting hipsters, has widened to include more mainstream types of guys who’d previously limited themselves to the baggier cargos and board shorts dominating the market—these days considered, perhaps, a bit dorky. “Now you prove your masculinity by wearing short shorts or pink underwear,” he said.

What a gay time we'll have in our "shorts!"

[NYO]

"HamptonsUndercover offers, through its online marketplace, the ability for members to share rides, find luxury accommodations, check out weather and traffic conditions, or browse Hampton offerings—-whether they be private tennis lessons, extra dinner reservations, or singles looking for a date.

"Membership is free however all users must subscribe and create a profile to have access to any of the site's unique features. The exclusive nature of the site allows for an intimate community feeling and ensures secure networking as HamptonsUndercover is monitored daily.