Dress Like an Art CollectorThe Look Book cameras came upon Nicola Vassel recently and learned that she “collects clothes like people collect art.” Her outfit splashed with color in anticipation of a museum visit come from a variety of sources: Topshop, agnès b., and American Apparel, among others.
The Day Philadelphia Bested New YorkAs Mets fans averted their eyes last night from the dispirited slop on the field at Shea, they could find no comfort in the National League scoreboard. Before the Mets even stepped up to bat, the Phillies led the Braves by four. The St. Louis Cardinals shut out the Mets with little bombast, and fans left Shea so humiliated by simultaneously losing the game and their sole claim to first place in the NL East that they could barely muster a few feeble taunts at a guy wearing a Rick Ankiel jersey. This is what happens to New Yorkers when we realize that Philadelphia is better than us.
Todd Oldham Is Not Our Bravo IdolTop Chef viewers who dealt with their postpartum depression last night by mooning around Bravo hoping for another toque or two before things were truly cashed found themselves suddenly facing an entirely different kind of high. Coming up next was the premiere of Bravo’s new Top Design, in which Todd Oldham wannabes remake rooms for a chance at some start-up cash and a place in a top interior-design firm. The new show, it seems, will stick to the standard reality formula: early ejection of boring contestants, the establishment of a villain (oodles of possible Marcels, don’t worry), and a new mentor and host in Oldham himself. But that, sadly, is the show’s big problem: Oldham’s wooden delivery was in desperate need of some hot Tim Gunn glue. (How Top Chef’s Padma was allowed to sound half-asleep all the time, we’ll never know.) Which gives us, suddenly, the perfect idea for the next reality show: So You Want to Be a Reality-Show Host. And sorry, Todd, you’ve got some talent, but we just don’t think you’ve got the stage presence to be an idol.
Top Design [BravoTV.com]
Earlier: For Todd Oldham, Brunch Is a Prison