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July 31 2014

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15 posts tagged "Tara Subkoff"

L.A. Gets Odd

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Odd Molly co-founder Per Holknekt named his handmade and organic women’s label after a skater girl he met while living in California in the eighties. So it makes sense that the Swedish label’s first U.S. store debuts in the Golden State (L.A.’s Robertson Boulevard to be exact), where it all started. Friday night’s opening soirée, hosted by Helena Christensen, drew Heidi Klum, Kelly Osbourne, Kate Mara, Lake Bell, Mena Suvari, Tara Subkoff, Lydia Hearst, and Malin Akerman, among others, who sipped Champagne while Little Joy’s Fabrizio Moretti and Binki Shapiro manned the decks. “I love the way they mix fabrics, colors, and patterns—I like when it’s loose,” mused Christensen (pictured, with Holknekt and Klum). She knows what she’s talking about: For three years, she was the face of the line. Now she’s their photographer: She just shot Daisy Lowe for the label at the Chelsea Hotel.

The flagship boutique, which features indoor chain-link fencing, an antique chandelier, and clothing suspended from the ceiling, lives up to its odd moniker, but the fabulous attendees found plenty to love. “I’ve already ordered a piece,” said Heidi Klum, pointing to a denim jumpsuit on the wall. “The line reminds me of clothes you’d love as a kid,” added designer Tara Subkoff, who’s preparing to relaunch her own Imitation of Christ line. “It’s a little bohemian and fun.” Odd Molly’s got a launch in the works, too: its first menswear collection, which Holknekt says will be “nothing too extravagant, just good-looking clothing for guys who don’t want to look like they tried.”

Photo: WireImage/Courtesy of Odd Molly

Blasblog: B. Eastie Boys

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The place to be late last Thursday night was B.East. Milla Jovovich, Jen Brill, Lauren Santo Domingo, Tara Subkoff, Christopher Bollen, and I headed down there after the Museum of Natural History dance. But we were hardly the party—Sophia Lamar, Hamish Bowles, and Jack McCollough were already hanging out with the hosts, art and fashion photographer Ryan McGinley and MisShape Greg Krelenstein. “It’s a party for gays who hate gay parties,” said McGinley. “That means: no techno or house music, no Abercrombie, no drag, but lots of T.Rex and other rock ‘n’ roll. Think Squeezebox in the nineties, but with a touch of class and maybe some Belle and Sebastian for the sensitive boys.” So much fun was the party, I only started to remember it over the weekend. Head down this Thursday for further revelry.

 

 

Photo: Derek Blasberg

 

Blasblog: The Department Of Premiere Security Took My Phone

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I’ve sacrificed a great deal of personal dignity when it comes to parties. In desperation, I once told a bouncer I was Tom Ford’s nephew. But at the premiere of Bride Wars last night they took from me something more important than integrity or dignity. They took my cell phone. My link to the world. My brain. Not that I didn’t put up a fight. At first I lied and said I didn’t have one (ha!). Then I told the pushy cell phone collection people that I was seeing another movie and tried to sneak in the side door. That last move nearly got me and fellow mobile device-dependent moviegoer Tara Subkoff escorted off the premises. Apparently they were taking everyone’s. (Here’s the bucket of phones pictured here.) Inside, Nate Berkus was equally upset. “Why didn’t they just put my right arm into one of those plastic bags too?” he asked me. Although, now that I think about it, I think he was making fun of me for being so upset by being sans cell for a brief two hours. But still, those numbers and text messages getting in the wrong hands is all I could think about for the next two hours. And for the record, I can barely open attachments on this thing, much less record movies and shift them to the Asian market. Let’s hope this doesn’t become common practice for premieres, people.

Blasblog: Tara Subkoff Celebrates With Hot Chocolate and Vintage YSL

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Tara Subkoff, fashion’s original actress turned designer turned multitasking cool kid, celebrated her birthday last night in possibly the most unexpected place for the former reigning queen of downtown cool: the very uptown, very polished Carlyle hotel. “Well, I’m getting a little bit older and figured I needed to start making the shift,” deadpanned Subkoff, sipping hot chocolate and wearing vintage seventies YSL, from her perch in the Café Carlyle. Subkoff, who’s barely in her mid-thirties, can rest assured she needn’t join the Carlyle set yet. She and her birthday posse—Arden Wohl, Jen Brill, Bonnie Morrison, Fabiola Beracasa, and Noah Mills—were by far the youngest and least physically or medically altered group in the place. Another reason for going uptown? To get out of the fray. “I spend so much of my time at cocktail parties or events,” explained Subkoff, who marked the event last year with a vegan dinner party in the East Village with a crowd that included Kate Hudson, Alek Wek, and Waris Ahluwalia. “This year I felt like hot chocolate and the Carlyle.” Hey, it’s her birthday and she can if she wants to.

Photo: Neil Rasmus/PatrickMcMullan.com

blasblog: a pretty gilded evening

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As I am a sucker for anything resembling an English country club, it was a very sad day when I missed last week’s opening party for the new Libertine restaurant in the Gild Hall hotel. Not only did it have the rarest host committee I’ve seen in a while—no girls at all (sorry Tinsley) and chock-full of New York’s coolest guys, both married (Andres Santo Domingo and Jon Ylvisaker) and eligible (Diego Garcia and Alex von Furstenberg)—but I’m a sucker for a free meal. So last night, when the Thompson’s Jason Pomeranc said he was having a few friends down to the Financial District restaurant for a tasting and second look, I jumped at the chance. Tara Subkoff, Jen Brill, Mathew Mellon, Dori Kooperman, Rachel Zoe’s husband Roger Berman and her assistant Taylor, Fabiola Beracasa, and Rebekah McCabe filed in for the Potato Smashies (salmon under potatoes beaten to death with caviar), mini cheeseburgers, mini lobster rolls, and the oh-so-English mushy peas. Regardless of the menu, however, in this now rather dark, vacant part of the city, conversation couldn’t help but veer toward last week’s hullabaloo in the stock market. “We’re doing OK here, because we’re new and we have an ambience and we do a great lunch,” Pomeranc told me. “But after reading that New York Times piece this weekend, part of me thinks that I should just take the restaurant out and make the whole thing a bar.” Following the meal, a few of the guests ventured to a private studio in the West Village to see an extended version of Subkoff’s film noir short Fame Fatale, starring her collection for mall giant Bebe, Lydia Hearst, and Aubrey O’Day in a lesbian makeout session outside nightclub Butter. With a special thanks that read like an Oscar telecast (Spike Jonze, Carrie Fisher, etc.), actress/designer Subkoff seemed proud to show off her finished product, and proud that she may be adding another slash to her business card: director. “That was two and a half months in the editing room,” she sighed. “But I loved every minute of it.”

Photo: Derek Blasberg