We admit it. We read Portfolio's story on Outsourcing Valentine's Day twice before we realized it was written by the comedian Andy Borowitz and therefore, totally fake. Yes, we're gullible. But aren't magazines supposed to put disclaimers on this stuff nowadays? Especially when they have paragraphs such as this?
Jason F., a risk arbitrageur whose friends call him “Douche” relates a cautionary tale. “My assistant spent weeks researching the perfect gift for my girlfriend and chose a Givenchy handbag that matched her eye color. But as soon as my girlfriend unwrapped it, she smelled a rat — so much thought had gone into it, she knew that I couldn’t have been involved.”
Okay, a Givenchy handbag that matched her eye color — that, we don't buy. But a hedge-fund guy named Jason F. whose friends call him "Douche"? That sounds completely plausible. In fact, we bet that some of you readers know guys named Jason F that are — or should be — called "Douche." Submit their names in comments below.
Outsource Valentine's Day [Portfolio]
Once a week, Daily Intel takes a peek at what your friends and neighbors are doing behind doors left slightly ajar. Today, the Multi-Orgasmic Woman Test-driving a Potential New Boyfriend: 23, female, Greenwich Village, straight.DAY ONE5 a.m.: Suffering from insomnia, horny. Contemplate how I’ve been single for over a year after an intense three-year relationship, burnt out on casual/drunk/let’s-just-be-fuck-buddies sex. Realize Potential New Boyfriend is just finishing his shift at Über-trendy restaurant. Send booty-call text.
6 a.m.: Potential BF arrives smelling like truffle oil. He suggests he shower, I respond by yanking him on top of me. He tastes like red wine. Excellent sex ensues.
Gawker unearths a choice quote from Guardian critic Jay Rayner’s forthcoming book The Man Who Ate the World. Excoriating bloggers, Mario Batali tells Rayner:
“It’s just people who hate things. But you know what? If they don’t like my beef cheek ravioli and the rock-and-roll we play on the sound system at Babbo, they can suck my dick. I don’t care.”
Except for the fellatio part, this pretty much jives with what he has told us in the past. Upon reading the book, we found it even more interesting that Batali, immediately before criticizing blogger/haters, decided to call out Gordon Ramsay.
All Fashion Week we’ve pitted the bright-eyed rookies against the familiar runway beauties to determine the Model of the Week. Once again, our complex algorithm took into account the number of each model’s openings and closings at big shows as well as a general buzz factor in the tents.
After two weeks of unsightly picketing and the (even more unwelcome) presence of a giant inflatable union rat in genteel Gramercy Park, Local 6 of Unite Here and the Players Club reached an agreement Friday afternoon. It reinstates sixteen union members from the club's restaurant and bar operations who were fired as a cost-cutting measure. John Turchiano, a union spokesman, said the terminated union members return to work today with back pay. "They got everything they wanted, and now we will sit down with management and try out to work out any financial difficulty now that they're abiding by an arbiter's ruling," he said, referring to an arbiter's January 15 ruling ordering the Players Club to reinstate the terminated employees with back pay.
With day four under way, Sari Sloane, Intermix’s VP of fashion merchandising, took time out of her busy schedule to recap her favorite picks from the weekend. What will she be buying for fall? Hervé Léger’s knits, DVF’s flapper looks, and Jonathan Saunder’s crisp tailoring.
•Lela Rose thinks she's still in the running to design Jenna Bush's wedding dress, despite a first family visit to Oscar de la Renta last week. [NYDN]
•Anne Hathaway totally lied when she said she wouldn't be attending any fashion shows this week. She and Raffaello Follieri were at Miss Sixty. [The Cut]
• Sheryl Crow enters the fashion arena, with an affordable denim line by the same people who make Victoria Beckham's dVb line. [WWD]
Yep, it's official. Hillary Clinton is running to be Crybaby-in-Chief. According to the Tribune Co.'s politics blog, the Swamp, Clinton teared up after a heartfelt introduction by a former colleague at the Yale Child Study Center in New Haven, where she worked in college. The emotional speech led "Clinton's eyes to fill with tears, which she wiped out of her left eye," reads the report (so clinical). "Well, I said I would not tear up; already we're not exactly on the path," Clinton said immediately after. AHEM. Now, to be fair to Clinton, who after all is human no matter what people say, hearing a tearful tribute to you from a former mentor is exactly the kind of thing that would choke up nearly anybody. But it won't be lost on the press that she happened to cry just on the eve of an important primary vote, and that she happened to do so in a state where she has been losing her edge. After all, she is four points behind Obama in Connecticut in some polls after this weekend. We don't think Hillary was dumb enough to think that crying again would be to her political advantage — the last thing she wants to be seen as is weak. But there's no question that people will say it was a ploy. Come on, lady. You've been through a hell of a lot that was worse than this. At least wait until after tomorrow. If you lose Super Tuesday, then nobody will blame you for crying.
Hillary Clinton cries in Connecticut [The Swamp]
Earlier:Hillary Clinton: Minority Candidate