Georgia-May Jagger featured in VOGUE UK.

Back in Black, L-R, Vladimir Roitfeld, Aby Rosen, Stavros Niarchos (Greek shipping heir and Paris Hilton ex)

As French Vogue Editrix Carine Roitfeld (and mother of last night’s art curator, Vladimir Roitfeld) twirled around an old meat market on the Lower East Side with her pal, designer Jean Paul Gaultier, a super trendy crowd observed the life sized scrawling of Nicolas Pol. Pol, a 22 year old Parisian who had never visited NYC before, lucked out in getting picked up on Vlad’s radar, since Vlad brings a moneyed and famous crowd, although not always serious art mavens. “I don’t come here for the art.” A girl from the Bortolami gallery said and smirked. She was busy checking out Vlad’s friends, slick Euro-dudes in black leather, many with yachts and family estates. One young female collector called it “bad Basquiat.” And, an editor of a major art magazine shook his head. “Its been done before.” That didn’t stop glittery guests like hotelier Andre Balazs from doing the social rounds with his date Daphne Guinness, or scenesters like Genevieve Jones, who is friendly with Vlad, from popping into the gallery and post party at Indochine despite having lost her voice. If a gal needs a moneyed Euro, Vlad’s openings are hot pickings. “He’s a bit like Vito Schnabel, but not as respected. At least Vito can consult his dad.” Said Dee Dee Roth, a guest.

Sixteen works hung on the walls. Pol told me they’re “conceptual but thoughtless.” Vlad called them “bloody and sexual.” And the name of the show, Martus Maw, supposedly means a martyr who dies for his beliefs and a sick liver, as in meat. Aby Rosen, a major collector who owns Lever House uptown, told me he liked the yellow one, below. I’m still waiting to see the receipt of purchase for art described as conceptual, thoughtless, bloody, sexual martyr who doubles as a dead cow organ. With that kind of cash, I’d rather buy a Damien Hirst. He did cow too.

Work by Nicolas Pol, 22 years of age, and self admittedly influenced by Basquiat

The Good Witch, Daphne Guinness

Daphne Guinness — an heir to the Irish stout empire and ex wife of a Greek shipping tycoon — turned two years over forty, yesterday, a Scorpio broad, the sign known for mystery and smoldering sex. Named initially after a Greek nymph –Daphne Suzannah Diana Joan Guinness — she’s tried her hand at making perfumes, often culled from masculine colognes topped with hints of amber and musk. She buys couture, everything from Valentino to Chanel to Christian Dior because as she states, she can afford it; she admires the craftswomen, a dying breed who weave lace in Paris; and quote, “I am lucky enough to be sample size.” She wears leather and metallic leggings and shoes of equal armored effect. But the cherry on the cake,or the “piece de la resistance” to Ms. Guinness’ style seems to be her white and black streaked hair. She corrects interviewers. “It’s actually white blonde with streaks of dark brown.”

Still, nobody seems to recognize the genesis of Ms. Guinness style. She was not the first to adore luxurious custom dresses, signature white fur or feathered jackets or MOST RELEVANTLY to don white hair with dark skunked streaks. Ms. Guinness’ obvious influence rests in Cruella Deville, that villianess from 101 Dalmations! Ms. Deville proved such a die -hard fashionista that she wanted to skin a whole litter of dalmation puppies.

There’s no denying the connection between these two, especially now marking Daphne’s birthday, we must give credit where it’s due. But, Daphne Guinness is known to be a jolly creative spirit. She’s good for the industry and she sold her clothes to help women in third world countries. So, kick it up, Ms. Guinness! To quote her on style,she says: “I think you do have a more fun life if you wear beautiful clothes. There is a certain joy in it; dressing well is an art and it shows respect to be neatly turned out.”

The Bad Witch, Cruella…another skunked fashionista

The Screamers, part of LA Punk scene’s glory days…

In this Hudson Jeans special long feature, Patrick O’Leary, now an executive at Art Department, which represents photographers, makeup artists, stylists and others for fashion shoots, tells me about his LA punk days…

HUDSON: I’d like to know how the punk days in LA differ from say the punk days of London or NYC. Was there a hub, like the way NYC had CBGB’s, the East Village, etc.

POL: It was different because we had different things there to rebel against-it was “anti-sunshine, anti-everything.” It was a rebellion against the prevailing culture of show business, the beach, suburbs, hippies and especially most of the rock music/culture at that time. It was an opening for a lot of people who felt outside of the LA lifestyle, that what was being offered was meaningless to them. And it was fun!

HUDSON: When were the punk days of LA, the real high point?

POL: I grew up in Santa Monica by the beach. Now I think it’s great there but, at the time, it became an oppressive environment to me as a teenager. I was not a surfer. When I first read about punk rock, I felt that there was finally something that I responded to and understood. I was too young for the beginning, so I missed what many would think of the high point, the scene at the Masque. The time that was probably the high point for me was 1978-1979, when I was fifteen-sixteen and could go out to clubs on my own.

I had to take buses to Hollywood and to downtown LA and try to get rides, sometimes I would have to stay out all night until I could get home. There was a great club in Chinatown in downtown LA called The Hong Kong Café. I had a lot of fun there in the summer of ‘79; it stands out, when I was there a lot. I saw great shows there. It was so much fun to hang out in the square and freak tourists out. I also started going to shows at the Whiskey and the Starwood and hanging out with kids my own age who understood the music, style and attitude.

Darby of the Germs…

INTERVIEW CONTINUES AFTER THE JUMP… HIT MORE LINE!

New collage by artist Paul McCarthy

To judge by the crowd surrounding Paul McCarthy — comely blonde painter Rita Ackermann, designer Cynthia Rowley, Purple Magazine editor Olivier Zahm and painter Nate Lowman, sans girlfriend Mary Kate Olsen — you’d rightly assume that this elf looking man with the white beard was no grandfatherly type. Far from it. McCarthy, who just opened a solo show uptown in NYC, builds collages with covers of Angelina Jolie, Britney Spears, and male Armani models next to scrawls of sexual positions and caricatures of Disney characters. Perhaps that’s why Lowman’s girlfriend the Olsen twin stayed far away, as not to inspire McCarthy to any fantasies. He defiles images of innocence as well as the gods and goddesses of our society. He’s one of the most collected artists in the world right now. Gazing at his walls, you’d think everyone was a sex addict. You get the combined effect of finding a Playboy in a secret bottom drawer and a comic book all at once.

(To see what the fuss is about: Paul McCarthy, White Snow, Hauser & Wirth, 32 East 69th Street,  4 November — December 24, 2009, 10 am — 6 pm, Tuesday — Saturday.)

Snow White… by Paul McCarthy

Kaiser Karl made Chanel fingerless cool, but kill the cheesy starlets…

Nothing completes Chanel designer Karl Lagerfeld’s panache like his leather fingerless gloves. They come in leather: black, red, white with black, and the latest ivory with feathered rims worn by singer Lily Allen at the Spring 2010 runway. Young Miss Allen, even in her slightly rubenesque splendor pulled it off. But gals with duck yellow hair like Lindsay Lohan and Jessica Simpson above, should retire the gloves completely. They are too desperate to pull them off. Read: FASHION VICTIM. Marc Jacobs makes fingerless gloves for winter and lace ones in the Spring. Phillip Lim 3.1. has put out winter fingerless for the past couple seasons too. But you really need an attitude of a dame who wants her fingers to roam a bit and just happens to slip them on. My best pick of the season are the classy black sheer ones worn by Adi of ThreeASFOUR in the photo below. Yes, ThreeASFOUR makes them in limited numbers. Paired with a shimmery gray butterfly top and easy swept up pony tail, it works wonders.

Adi from ThreeASFOUR taps New York Times style shooter Bill Cunningham at museum event

Masked hipsters salute the launch of YSL’s Parisienne fragrance in an old LES synagogue

Parisienne, the new hot little scent by YSL, smells like that perfect French dame of a certain, likely just post thirty age. She owns at least one YSL suit fitted to her frame. She can seduce with a wink. She never fakes a climax. And even if she sneaks out of an alley on Place des Vosges, she’s swept her hair up neatly. While, Opium, the YSL scent of yore could kill a giant rat and best left to grand mum, Parisienne lingers like a lover’s dew on a sheet. The ingredients sheet from YSL lists the following: “vinyl accord, cranberry, blackberry, damask rose, violet, peony, patchouli, vetiver, sandalwood, and musk.”

At last week’s USA launch at NYC’s Angel Orensantz Foundation for the Arts– still showing the fixtures of the old synagogue of decades ago — gorgeous hipsters in masks danced around. Misshapes Geordon Nichol and brunette Leigh Lezark, plus Alexandra Richards, spun everything from Michael Jackson to Lady Gaga. Parisienne would be too soft for Ms. Gaga but could add a certain sexy femme to both Lezark and Richards as a scent. As for Kate Moss, the scent’s muse, pictured in the ad, looks as through she might have added a little wild horse hormone to the mix. Kate writhes to YSL

Model Lily Donaldson may not actually “quoth the raven,” but she looks SMASHING!

It girl did the rounds this weekend, starting on “mischief” night (Friday) with socialite Allison Sarofim’s party in the West Village where the Texas billionairess socialite invited all of her plastic surgery pals to dress up in Eighties gear, neon colors, Michael Jackson splendor and Tama Janowitz heroines (Janowitz wrote the Eighties’ bible, Slaves of New York.) I figure these gals must love this holiday since they can really hide behind the makeup. The real lovelies came out in droves on Saturday, actually Halloween, at the Standard Hotel’s Boom Boom Room for a party hosted by the Last Magazine. Karen O sure seems to be making the rounds in the city these days, but no one would recognize the Yeah Yeah Yeah’s neo punk in a massive blonde wig and cheerleading skirt. Standard hotel owner Andre Balazs grooved as a pirate with a few sexy lasses to Nineties vintage tunes like Technotronic and Rhythm is a Dancer. Models, rockers, and gorgeous grovelers. The beautiful people live.