All my love, G

My entire freshman year of college was spent hating my friends who spent every single Saturday night at Misshapes, the once popular NYC hipster haven that housed the fashion priveleged and celebrities alike (Hilary Duff, Madonna, Dakota Fanning, Lindsay Lohan, Nicole Richie, the Olsens all made appearances on various Saturdays). The three boys whom I spent most of my time with (except for Saturday nights) were skinny, fashionable, and well-connected. I was none of those. Not until much later anyway (still not skinny, but working on that everyday). In any event, I always thought, from the way that they made it seem, I would never get in...so why try?

Fast-forward to September 2007: Misshapes was having its last party, its last Saturday get together for a long while. The fruitfly and I decided to bring a few friends and try to go anyway. We put some good outfits together, grabbed cash for a cab, and trekked to Don Hill's, Misshape's venue in SoHo. Who knew, the doorman remembered me from a previous party and called me a bitch.

I was let in immediately.

The famous white wall.

The party was a celebrity fuckfest: Agnyess Deyn, my favorite model of the moment, stood at the bar, clad in almost nothing, and smiled at hipster passerbys; the DJs (Geordon, Leigh, and whatshisface) didn't actually DJ that night - instead, they spent the night drinking at the VIP booth and getting their pictures taken. They're vile creatures.

Sharmaine, a friend, came to the event dressed as Al Sharpton. It was fantastic.

So it is truly an end of an era. Misshapes, through all of your faults, through all of your disgusting stereotypes and hangups, you will be missed. See you in Europe.

Agyness Deyn

Fruitfly

G

Leigh

<photos courtesy of Misshapes.com>