Everyone has their reason for coming to Sundance: movies, networking, making money, making off with swag, making out, usually while drunk. But there's also the skiing and snowboarding. It's a rare pleasure to see the celebrity taking time off from promoting his or her movies to hit the slopes, but most do at least once: Woody Harrelson, for instance, has gone snowboarding nearly every day since he's been here. Paris Hilton got in a day of skiing (though she may be a liar about how good she is). And on Monday, Eliza Dushku, Matthew Rhys, and Dave Annable (from Brothers & Sisters) all made valiant attempts to tame the fluffy white beast.
In the latest issue of New York Mag, former 'N Syncer Lance Bass talks to Jada Yuan about the unquestionable pain in the ass that is New York real estate. He noted that a lot of furnished rentals he looked at didn't have "any style," and that "crap" apartments go for a lot of money (sing it, sister). And as for his former bandmate Justin Timberlake's new dining establishment, Southern Hospitality, Lance says he's been there "a few times," though he's not on the Upper East Side much.
And then, perhaps because his broker got indignant, or perhaps because JT made a phone call or two, Lance decided that he'd never said any of that stuff at all. On a defensive little tirade on his MySpace blog, Lance called Yuan a "dumb reporter" who got it all wrong. Oh no he didn't! But he did, and he did it again in an e-mail sent directly to the gang over at Vulture. Head over there to see Lance's official "you are so wrong" (even though we're not — we stand behind Yuan's reporting) statement.
Lance Bass Learns About Damage Control [Vulture]
Lance Bass Not Hooked on NYC [NYM]
Human beings build mental models for things. You don't really think about your commute into work; you just do it, the same as you do every day. This is why every now and then, when you walk to that same subway station to go someplace else, you get on that usual morning-commute train even though you mean to go the other way. Well, we have a model for party reporting, and last night we were set to cover the after-party for Glenn Close's new FX drama, Damages, which we were told was at Cipriani's. We assumed that meant Cipriani 42nd Street, so we left the office at the end of the day on autopilot. We saw some police barricades; we ignored them. We turned onto 42nd Street. There were a lot of bright lights. The street was blocked off. Wow, we thought, big premiere.
Finally, footwear vindication! Though we were embarrassed by our feet in the meatpacking district the other night, last night we could wear our flip-flops proudly: It was the 45th anniversary party for Havaiana flip-flops. We were in our Havaianas, standing in the roped-in party space on the second floor of the Time Warner Center, attempting to sip white wine and look moderately sophisticated while weary-eyed tourists in Borders stared at us through the glass wall as if they were watching monkeys pick bugs off each other at the Bronx Zoo. There were three giant flip-flops filled with foliage decorating the space (one had grass, one well-manicured daisies, and one overrun with orchids and jungle plants) and a helpful sign detailing the history of flip-flops: Apparently two out of three Brazilians own a pair of Havaianas! Sadly, though, among the perhaps 150 sets of feet last night, we counted only eight pairs of Havaianas and seven pairs of non-Havaiana flip-flops. Still, much better than that night in the meatpacking. —Jada YuanEarlier:In Which a Party Reporter Is Embarrassed by Her Footwear
We really ought to read press releases more carefully. Last night was the grand opening of Iris, a new store in the meatpacking district, and the release announced a "FALL 2008 PREVIEW OF: CHLOÉ, MARC JACOBS, JOHN GALLIANO, PAUL SMITH, VERONIQUE BRANQUINHO, AND VICTOR & ROLF." We expected a runway show and celebrities. Exciting! So we trekked to Washington Street and Little West 12th. We were sweaty and clad in Havaiana flip-flops and a breezy polka-dot number from Ross Dress for Less (and — we'll have you know — you wouldn't believe the compliments we get). What we hadn't read closely enough to discover is that Iris is a luxury shoe boutique. And when we arrived, well, if our feet had feelings, they would have been humiliated. The store is petite. And was packed. With intensely fashionable people. We stepped inside, did a quick lap among all those high-heeled sandals and perfectly pedicured toes, and walked right out. It was the fastest we've ever gone through a party. And then we rushed off to find friends in sneakers. Shoes in the store were cute, though. —Jada Yuan
New York's Jada Yuan profiled Lily Allen for the current issue, checking in on the British popster's "working holiday" in New York. It only got 600 words in the magazine, but the two gals spent all day hanging out — riding the subway, visiting Heatherette, walking the Brooklyn Bridge, scarfing down pizza. Allen sounds off on bikini waxes, L.A.'s friendly paparazzi (really!), Bloomberg, the Hamptons, and her first carbohydrates in three weeks. It's all at Vulture.
Bikini Waxing, Lesbian Dreams, and Mayor Mike: Lily Allen, Uncut [Vulture]
When you're a little girl named Jada, there's only one heroine: Jada Pinkett Smith. Before she came along, there was no one. The kids would sometimes call you Jabba the Hut; people asking your name would hear Hada, or Judah, or sometimes even Juan. But then Miss Pinkett became a star, and people got it. "Oh, Jada," they'd say, "as in Jada Pinkett Smith." She was, and remains, the only famous Jada in the world.
And when you've grown up to be a party reporter named Jada, it is a momentous occasion when Jada Pinkett Smith comes to town for the Museum of the Moving Image's tribute to her husband, Will Smith. Arriving at the Waldorf-Astoria last night, Smith greeted the reporter first: "Jada?! That is so funny! How you doing, baby? Give me a hug!" Then along came his wife, who is less excitable but ready to welcome a sister. "Girl," she said, "we were the first ones! When everyone was like, 'What? Judah, Joda, Jumper?'" Then 8-year-old Jaden, Will and Jada's son, weighed in. Reporter Jada introduced herself, and Jaden's eyes grew huge with shock. He looked at his mom, and then he looked back at the reporter. He glared suspiciously. And the message was clear: The room was only big enough for one Jada that night. The non–Pinkett Smith Jada backed away. She'd flown too close to the sun. —Jada Yuan