We all know that starting tomorrow night, the subways will be filled with drunk people in costumes, all the way until Halloween on Wednesday. In case you're still without costume inspiration, despite our best efforts to help your asses, we trolled last night's Fashion Group International Night of Stars gala to ask celebrities what their costumes would be. "It won't be from Ricky's," said Jane Krakowski, who has been wearing a fat suit on 30 Rock. André Leon Talley wrote our jokes for us. "I always go as myself," he said. Not a bad idea: You can do it, too, readers: Just throw on your graduation robe and call yourself an "Editor-at-Large." Princess Alexandra of Greece is dressing her 5-year-old son as Darth Vadar, but she recalled her most memorable costume? "My husband and I were once Catwoman and Catman or something," she said. You mean — BATman? "I don't know — we both wore matching cat masks." We tried Tilda Swinton, another foreigner. "I'm from Scotland where Halloween was invented. We have very different traditions. I'm not really sure what the American tradition is," she said. "I did see a woman on the subway the other day here who was looking through a very sexy lingerie catalogue, picking out her Halloween costume, but we don't switch it that way." Well, we explained, American girls like to look slutty. "Right. Well, I'm looking forward to it — when is it? Wednesday?" Sure is! "I think I'll probably wear my birthday suit." —Amy OdellGet fashion tips from Jean Paul Gaultier, Mayor Bloomberg, and Joan Jett at our complete coverage of the Fashion Group International's Night of Stars.
As a rule, every trend that begins in New York ends up in Philadelphia eventually, from punk rock to New American dining. Now, according to the September issue of Philadelphia magazine, the city has inherited our most inane and pointless debate, one which continues to fester here. Craig LaBan, Philadelphia’s chief restaurant critic, is being sued by the owner of Chops Steakhouse over a review he wrote some months ago. And in the process, he’s threatened with losing his anonymity. But as the critic of record in essentially a one-paper town (with due respect to the Philadelphia Daily News), LaBan is about as mysterious to Philadelphia as cheesesteaks or Legionnaires’s disease.