Losing your shirt is a stupid cliché to use in reference to an underwear party like Nardi Gras, the gay Mardi Gras fete organized by New York’s dirtiest men, Daniel Nardicio and DJ Adam. But since I’m that kind of asshole, I did just that, at the end of the party right before I was leaving! Luckily I kept my pants on—and was one of the few who did. Read more

Because there's a month between The Glammies and The Pill Awards, New York gays are subjected to something akin to the space between the Golden Globes and the Oscars. It’s enough to make a Chelsea queen drop his meth habit and get some sleep. Read more

If new Chelsea club Juliet wants to be the West Side’s answer to The Box, it was clever in hosting Susanne Bartsch and Kenny Kenny’s new Tuesday night party, Bon Bon. When I pulled up at 11:30, there were four strapping gents already guiding a fifth shirtless friend out the front door. Read more

In a town full of skyscrapers, it’s often what’s happening beneath the sidewalk that ends up being the most exciting. Hidden spaces—think SubMercer, the basement of La Esquina or the late, lamented Undochine—are black gold in New York's over-saturated nightlife scene. A hard-to-find, little-known location with the right music and crowd can become an overnight sensation, and if a group of people just above 14th Street play their cards right, they might have New York’s next one on their hands. Read more

Good thing I wore my Doc Martens! Upon sauntering up to the powerHouse Arena on Saturday night, I came across a group of dark-eyed young folks smoking outside. With their tight clothing, pink locks running through otherwise black hair and olive skin, I knew I was at the right place for Taqwacore Night—a book reading celebrating the American Muslim punk movement. Read more

Arriving at B.east, the lounge beneath LESteraunt Broadway East, it felt like I was crashing a dinner party. Walking past video projections of ’60s movies into the restaurant area, I found a long table of hip kids who— against all odds—were decidedly friendly and engaging. So engaging that Aaron, a bespectacled boy with a faggle of friends, had no qualms about approaching me and asking to borrow my pen. Read more

THE POPULAR OPINION of China 1, a restaurant, bar and club on Avenue B, is that it doesnt know what it wants to be. Originally known as Number 1 Chinese, the eatery was once a hip party spot famous for pissing off its neighbors and infamous for playing host to dirty sex-fests and other unscrupulous activities. Read more Read it in print

“Fame is easy,” declared Fritz of Fritz Helder and the Phantoms after his Friday night concert at underground dance club Mr. Black. Silk Helder, Diego Superstar and Pastel Supernova—the front end of this six-person, Toronto-based electro-pop fashion performance outfit—nodded fiercely in agreement. “You don’t have to be famous to entertain,” Fritz said. And entertain they did, after a warm introduction from a flawless-looking Nelly Furtado. Most of the Phantoms were background dancers for Furtado, who signed the group to her new indie label, Nelstar music. Read more Read it in print

WE LIVE IN an era of unrivaled design choices. Due to technological advances, graphic artists can now easily market and sell their work, reaching an audience inconceivable just a few years ago. Read more Read it in print

My first ever trip to the Stonewall Inn—for the monthly “Victoria” party— was a lot more lesbionic than I had anticipated. “We’re going to drink the fuck outta s Read more