When Only a $19 Cocktail Will Do

By Mollie Chen

Earlier this week I handed over four monstrously large checks - funds begged, borrowed, and parent-gifted - to secure my new apartment. Seeing that much cash flow out of my veins was disconcerting, to say the least. So what is one to do to console themselves in their newly bankrupt state? Pretend to be rich and fabulous, obviously.

Wednesday night, I tagged along with my roommate Allidah - the only person I know who can make 1950s school marm duds look chic - to the opening of the Whitney's "Summer of Love" exhibit. Allidah, who is equal parts domestic goddess, Southern loyalist, and art expert, works in the Whitney's Education department. We navigated the crowds of pewter-haired donors, glittering society madams, and consciously rumpled hipster/artists/groupies to get a glimpse of psychedelic album covers, Richard Avedon photographs, and Janis Joplin's wildly painted Porsche. After awhile the combination of multiple light shows and the flashing of diamonds and scarlet soles was enough to leave us dizzy and, frankly, in need of a cocktail. Thankfully, the Whitney is right by that bastion of Old New York - Bemelmans Bar, in the Carlyle Hotel. After the relentless hipness of the opening, it was refreshing to step into the cozy, dimly lit cavern.

Snack Dispatch

By Mollie Chen
If you're like me, you are always on the hunt for the next great in-flight snack (you also keep two desk drawers stocked with granola, chocolate, nuts, and animal crackers). Even if you're not like me, you should still know about the best thing to happen to chips since sour cream and cheddar. The minute I logged onto Pop Chips website, I knew I had found my people. "We're snack fanatics," the founders began. "We think there aren't enough meals in the day." (There is also a Snackers' Credo, which I whole-heartedly identify with.) This California-based company has created a next-generation chip that is (yep, you guessed it) popped instead of baked or fried. They currently have nine varieties, ranging from sea salt rice chips to salsa corn chips, plus a classic potato version. Thicker than your average Lays and made from either potatoes, corn, or rice, these next-generation snacks are all-natural and (honestly) all-around delicious. In a scientific taste taste, editors were lukewarm on wasabi and parmesan garlic flavors but fought over the sea salt corn and barbeque. As for the original potato flavor, well, I snagged that bag for myself.
P.S. They're healthy too.

Phillip Lim takes on Uniqlo

By Nandita Khanna

Japanese casual wear empire Uniqlo made quite a entrance earlier this year here in New York's SoHo with the arrival of its first U.S. post by positioning numerous advertisments throughout the city showing impeccably folded cashmere sweaters for under $75 (it's true). In a smart move, Uniqlo also announced that they'd launch a Designer Invitation Project in which they'd enlist designers like Lutz & Patmos, Alice Roi, and Phillip Lim to design women's capsule collections that would be rolled out each month during the spring. Yesterday morning Uniqlo debuted New York-based Lim's brilliant capsule collection (his belted mindress is pictured at left) to much fanfare by hosting a group of lucky fashionistas and magazine editors to pre-shop the collection before the store opened their doors to the general public. Upon arriving at 9:15 a.m., to my surprise there was already a long line of women (and some men) outside the store ready to snatch up the collection before it opened at 10 a.m. The charming collection featured a few linen minidresses (black, off-white, plaid), high-waisted shorts, and jersey dresses (in gray and green) that brilliantly capture much of what Lim's 3.1 collection is all about: maintaining an easy elegance and freshness regardless of your personal style. Here, Phillip Lim weighs in on the collection and his favorite pieces.

This Little Piggy

By Mollie Chen

The pig is having quite the star turn - much to its dismay. The poor swine is finding itself the center of attention in foodie circles everywhere, thanks to a coterie of bold-faced chefs: Martin Picard, of Montreal's Au Pied de Cochon; New York's David Chang, who has been showered with praise for his perpetually mobbed Momofuku and Momofuku Ssam: and, the father of it all, London's Fergus Henderson whose St. John pioneered "nose to tail" eating. Now, for home chefs with a weakness for stuffed pig's ears, blood sausage, and other swine-full delights, Chef Stephane Reynaud's Pork and Sons is a must-have. Recently translated from French, the cookbook-cum-memoir recalls the chef's childhood in the small village of Saint-Agreve, where he participated in his first pig slaughter at age 7, as well as tales from his more experience as chef-owner of the popular Villa 9 Trois, in Montreuil, France. Here, Reynaud gives us some of his tips on where to go, what to eat, and what to bring back.

Copycats

A take on John Currin's "The Pink Tree"

One of the things the Materialist never found a chance to do in SE Asia was pay a visit to one of the many "copy houses" that can be found in every large Vietnamese city.

The Materialist first heard about these copy houses from her friend Quang, whose family is from Hanoi. Every year, thousands of art school students graduate college and are left looking for work. Unlike in the States, however, where the guarantee of an apparently endless parental drip and sporadic work as a web designer are enough to keep one in Starbucks and a loft in Greenpoint, Vietnamese art graduates have to be more resourceful. The result are strips of copy shops, each staffed with a half-dozen or so former art students, who will copy literally any painting, photograph, or drawing--from Johannes Vermeer to Inka Essenhigh and back again. All you have to do is bring them a copy of the piece (you can also choose something from one of the art books they have in-shop), and they'll paint it on canvas for you: a 1' x 1' painting is $15, a 4' x 4' is $60, and a 6' x 6' is $120. The copies are startlingly good, and unsettlingly accurate.

High-Flying Luggage Goes Retro

By Nandita Khanna

Pan Am's vintage Explorer bag.

It appears that what's old is new again. Again. This time though it's Pan Am hand luggage something I never had the privilege of toting through airports the first go-around. That's right, the "it" airline of the 1950s and '60s made famous by its patrons that included John F. Kennedy to the Beatles is looking to bring this nostalgic accessory back into the grasp of stylish jet-setters.

Pan Am--celebrating their 80th anniversary this year--recently debuted twelve piece line of PVC weekend bags in white, turquoise, and royal blue all emblazoned with the iconic Pan Am globe. The interiors are appropriately lined with a kitschy globe and airplane pattern and some of the bags even have great detailing like a Pan Am logo zip tag on them or contrasting piping. All the bags are roomy and have enough pockets to satisfy even the most discerning travel--or at least one looking to stand out in a sea of black carry-ons. Travel bag prices range from $55-$90 and the rest of the line includes T-shirts, travel journals, notecards, and postcards based on vintage Pan Am posters.

The eunuch's delight

At Tha Om restaurant.

What day is it, and where is the Materialist? Interpret these questions however you want--metaphysically; literally--either way, the Materialist no longer knows.

Actually, the Materialist is writing this from Saigon in her room at the creamy Park Hyatt, although as you read this today, on the 14th, the Materialist is actually in Tokyo, at the new Ritz-Carlton, having her face pumiced with a stone, getting ready to return to crappy old New York. But before the Ritz, she will be in the bare-bones hotel she stays at in Tokyo when she can't stomach the suburban splendor of Bitter's apartment but which, despite its prime location, has very limited internet access. So consider this a missive from the past addressed to you people of the future--a little free time travel courtesy of your old pal the Materialist.

One Graduation, 756 Celebratory Meals

By Mollie Chen
There are many reasons why it is good to be Annie Chen, not the least of which is that Mollie Chen is your big sister. If you are Annie Chen, it also means that you recently graduated from college and started life as a real, live adult, which so far means that you go to work at one of the best restaurants in Boston. There, besotted chefs fed you midnight snacks like Robuchon potatoes (two parts butter to one part starch), fresh-baked waffles, and truffle-laden gnocchi. Radius perks aside, Annie also lives on one of Boston's hippest restaurant streets.

More revelations with the Materialist

The contents of Bitter's dop kit for a 5-day trip

Shortly before she left for her SE Asian blitz, the Materialist was made aware that Sandy, travel specialist to the stars (well, to the Materialist and all her CNT colleagues, at least) had somehow gotten the impression that she and her friend Bitter Makoto, who was joining her for the middle part of the trip, were a couple; or, more accurately, that the Materialist was trying to seduce Bitter and entrap him in her web of womanity.

The Materialist first became wise to this when Sandy happened to mention that he'd some "special surprises" planned for her and Bitter. Her suspicions were confirmed when Sandy called her up in Bangkok.

"I was confirming your rooms in Hanoi," said the Sandman, "and you know you're in twin beds, right?"

"Yes, that's right," said the Materialist.

"Oh," said Sandy. There was a pause. "And that's...OK?"

"Yup!" said the Materialist, still remarkably clueless.

"Okey-doke!" said Sandy, who had, a few weeks earlier, shared with the Materialist his motto, which is: The customer is always right, even when she's not. This was clearly one of those cases, and far be it from Sandy to try and interfere with the Materialist's apparently backasswards seduction plan.

Identity politics with the Materialist

Today you're all in for a big, big treat, because the Materialist is going to go all CBS Afterschool Special (or, if you prefer, David Mamet c. "Oleanna") on your asses!

In her years of traveling to the same places over and over again, the Materialist has often debated with herself whether it's easier or harder to be Asian while traveling through Asia. After this SE Asia trip however, she can say conclusively: it's harder.

For some reasons, the SE Asians (like many white and black Americans, for that matter) seem incapable of accepting the possibility that one can be an American of Asian descent. In the past three weeks, the Materialist has had the following conversation (almost verbatim) at least three times a day:

SE Asian (shopkeeper, waiter, hotel clerk, taxi driver, tour guide): You Chinese or Japanese?
The Materialist: I'm from New York.
SE Asian: But where you born?
TM: America.
SE Asian: Where your father born?
TM: America.
SE Asian: Your grandfather?
TM: America.
SE Asian: Your great-grandfather?
TM: America.
[silence]
SE Asian: So, you Chinese or Japanese?