Everything New York, from wining and dining to music and theater. And maybe some shenanigans... (Photo by Mo Riza)
Speaking of speakeasies ...
La Esquina is sooooooooooo 2005, but we have to admit that it took us two years to finally drag our asses down to its subterranean nether-regions. Oh the horror, you say? Well, we'd been avoiding the place like the plague. Must've been that Andre Leon Talley piece that Vogue ran eons ago, in which he muses about schmoozing there after some Fashion Week show. Dunno with you, but we're frightetend of Andre Leon Talley. Pee-in-your-pants frightened. Goobumps-barfing-goosebumps frightened. Let's-dress-Jennifer-Hudson-in-a-solar-powered-sardine-can-at-the-Oscars frightened. We're sure he's a lovely man, and he's certainly earned his stature among fashionistas. But the thought of bumping into him and his billowing cape at the "Employees Only" staricase that leads down to La Esquina might've been too much for our bladders. (Touche!)
In any event, looks like the place still has some juice left in it. Lotsa purdy folks that you actually might wanna sleep with—always a good gauge. Plus, Elle magazine's Nina Garcia was dining at a nearby table and looking tres chic: LBD, spikes. Not that we'd wanna sleep with Miss G, lest she unleash a stinging "Project Runway"-worthy quip about our sexual prowess. Easy, Nina, easy. Hopefully, Miss G had a cellphone signal down there for that Blackberry she's been shilling. Can you hear me now?
Photo courtesy of Bravo TV
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