Michael Musto Does Lindsay Lohan As Marilyn MonroeGod bless Michael Musto. In an homage (we’ll choose to call it that) to New York’s recent nude Lindsay Lohan photo spread, the Village Voice columnist decided to stage his own version. He painstakingly re-created each pose, which Lindsay had, in turn, re-created from the original Marilyn Monroe series. (Bert Stern, who photographed both Lindsay and Marilyn, did not work with Musto.) Writes Michael:
I’ve long lived quite dangerously myself, and so, anxious to share my desperate man-tits with an audience beyond Chelsea, I gleefully agreed to star in an homage to an homage: Musto as Lohan as Marilyn. That’s three generations of loveliness, and I prepared for it by not shaving or waxing a thing, just letting it all hang in the wind as both a nod to history and a means of reclaiming control. Just like with Marilyn and Lindsay, people have always grabbed at me, wanting a piece of my piece and a slice of my soul, but usually with more pepperoni and less cheese.
You’ve got to click through to look at the entire slideshow. We’ll warn you: It’s not safe for work. Or, with all due love and respect to Musto, lunch.
Michael Musto as Lindsay Lohan as Marilyn Monroe… in “The Ultimate Re-Vamping” [VV]
Related: Lindsay Lohan as Marilyn Monroe in “The Last Sitting” [NYM]
Gays Love All Over Posh at Hiro, But Michael Lucas Has a ComplaintStraight from the homo’s mouth: Posh Spice, a.k.a. Victoria Beckham, made a surprise appearance at Hiro Ballroom last night, where the gays were congregated to celebrate their weekly dance party. Village Voice scribe Michael Musto today reports on his blog that she strutted to the stage amid a cacophony of cheering from the assembled crowd:
“I have never seen so many sexy men in one place,” she gushed to the crowd, I guess never having been to hubby’s locker room. “Thank you for supporting my entire career! I think I am a gay man in a woman’s body — a very THIN woman, by the way. Have a lot to drink and dance. You are all totally major!” The gays cheered as if having witnessed a visitation from Mount Sinai, but one drunk barreled up to me to belch, “Tell her to go and get her fucking husband here!”
Bless the girl. She knows her fan base. (Meanwhile, we totally saw Baby and Scary Spices the previous night at Marquee for glam publicist Lauren Kucerak’s birthday party. Apparently those two don’t know that it isn’t straight dudes from Long Island at Marquee who are buying tickets to their concerts.) But there’s at least one influential New York homosexual who doesn’t heart Posh. “I think I would commit suicide if I had her skin,” porn star and activist Michael Lucas told New York at the Marc Jacobs show last Friday. “Her skin is yellow with big pores, each pore you could fit a big [piece of] caviar in. I don’t know why there’s such a big to-do.” Man, if that wasn’t the gayest insult you’ve ever heard in your life, we don’t know what is.
Posh Meets the Gays: Spice Spice Baby [VV]
For more dish and disses from the Marc Jacobs fete, click here.
Update: And we totally forgot Ginger Spice was at the opening of the new mega-club Mansion (in the old Crobar space - it’s fab) on Friday night. Hello, after we left, there were no gays there either.
intel
Michael Musto Finds a Blog Home, At LastAll together now: three snaps up, in a circle. Legendary Village Voice scribe Michael Musto has entered the blogosphere! He told us last night while we were out at (where else?) Beige, but before we could do a scoopy post, his publicist sent out a press release. “Complimenting his immensely popular weekly ‘La Dolce Musto’ column, readers will be tipped off to breaking news items and get the most crucial news from the world of nightlife, entertainment, politics,” explains the breathless missive. Musto will do one post a day, he told us last night. We could not be more excited. Musto is hilarious and raunchy — in fact, he’s the only gay writer who makes fart jokes. In the whole world! “I’m really nervous about finding things to write about,” he explained, but judging by today’s entry, he should be fine. Here’s our favorite part of today’s post (which does a much better job of selling it than the press release), in which the shy Musto is confronted by gay performer Ari Gold (yes, really) and accused of not giving Gold enough publicity:
Gold feels that as an openly gay artist, he deserves a heaping of attention from me, who champions homo talent all the time. In all candor, I told him I don’t write much about music, but he shot back, “I don’t buy that” — not the most gracious response to a gracious response, but again, very singular. Another valid excuse is that I don’t automatically write about someone just because they’re openly gay. If that were an instant ticket to publicity, there’d be a lot more artists bursting out of the closet (which would actually be fabulous — maybe next week I’ll plug every single out person there is, but perhaps not the murderers).
Welcome to the blog underworld, Michael! We’ve been awaiting you. Just don’t get injured, ya hear?
The Daily Musto [VV]
ink-stained wretches
Can’t We All Just Gay Along?Today’s “Gatecrasher” column in the Daily News includes a truly excellent story that also appears in the Village Voice. Turns out News gossip Ben Widdicombe and Voice scribe Michael Musto were sharing a table at Bowery Bar last Tuesday during the weekly gay party, Beige. With them was former Village People cowboy Randy Jones, who had a delightful tale to tell. From “Gatecrasher”:
In 1977, [Jones] found himself sharing a table at Studio 54 with two people he recalls as being Paris’ parents, Rick and Kathy Hilton. “There was one rock of cocaine left, and it rolled off the table,” he said. “They just didn’t even bother bringing it back up to a hard surface — they just crushed it into the carpet and snorted it off that.”
Jones explained, “Whatever Paris Hilton is, she came by it honestly!” (Not the adverb we would necessarily use.) Now Rick Hilton denies this story ever happened, and it may be too good to be true. But it is a lovely little example of the gay media mafia at work. Widdicombe needs to fill a column every day, but he nonetheless waited an entire week to run this item so that he and Musto could run it at the same time. Thus, nobody was unduly scooped. See? Gay gossip columns will help you out! Unlike straight gossip columns, which threaten to rape you.
Violence is Golden [VV]
Hilton Story Doesn’t Seem to Check Out [NYDN]
party lines
Patrick McMullan Knows Everyone (Almost)Everyone we talked to at Patrick McMullan’s Glamour Girls book launch party last night at the Whitney agreed: Patrick knows everybody. Just not always their names. Though he signed books with personalized messages for hundreds of guests, he wasn’t always sure exactly who they were. “His mind goes blank sometimes,” said designer Esteban Cortazar, McMullan’s “friend” for the past ten years. “Then he’ll remember it and apologize forever.” Michael Musto, godfather to McMullan’s son, recalled, “He’s always pulling you over to have you meet someone you already know. Once he said, ‘Oh Kelly Catrone! Do you know Robbie Catrone?’ And they had been divorced. That’s why they had the same name.” We asked Patrick what his most embarrassing slip-up was. “One time I spit on Kelly Ripa by accident,” he said, while socialites fawned over him as he sat behind a white lacquered table signing books (purchased by guests for $75 a pop). But there are some women left in the world he has yet to meet. Such as: “The Queen of England. I think her and I would be able to get along,” he said. “We could watch television programs together,” he said. “Or Camilla. If we could talk about horses and dogs I think that would be fun.” — Amy Odell
Get more McMullan gossip from Vera Wang, Muffie Potter Aston, and others at our complete party coverage.
21 questions
‘Voice’ Gossip Michael Musto Still Catty, GayName: Michael Musto
Age: Between 40 and death
Job: Social arbiter, The Village Voice
Neighborhood: Kips Bay
Who’s your favorite New Yorker, living or dead, real or fictional?
Alice Kramden.
What’s the best meal you’ve eaten in New York?
Mama’s holiday lasagne with meatballs and ice cream.
In one sentence, what do you actually do all day in your job?
Delete spam e-mails.
