OBESSION: Liquid Line

Most girls shy away from steady-hands-only liquid eyeliner. But Mac’s new Fluidline is a fool-proof option for only $15. The gel formula gives a softer, silkier finish with an easy brush. It lasts from day to night without smudge and comes in black, brown, green, purple, silver, and blue.



Perfect Partner: Mac’s Mineralize Eye Shadow works well underneath the liner. Use Danger Zone for the perfect holiday/cocktail party look.

REVIEW: Rhino Records

“This is the most over-explained concert of my life,” a voice stage-whispered from behind me. Obnoxious, but that audience member had a point. David Byrne took the stage on Saturday night, November 29, at the Landmark Theatre inexplicably dressed in tennis whites and before playing a note launched into a presentation about the evening’s proceedings that lacked only PowerPoint.

Then Byrne and the band – also inexplicably head-to-toe in white – got to it, launching into “Strange Overtones,” the first single from Everything That Happens Will Happen Today, the first collaboration between Byrne and Brian Eno in over 25 years. It’s been out since the end of summer, but I haven’t picked it up yet so I fatigued rather quickly. Apparently, so did the pundit behind me, greeting the lyric, “This groove is out of fashion. These beats are 20 years old” with a hearty, “I’ll say.”

But then something amazing happened. The song ended, the reddish orange French fry lighting bathed the stage and Byrne and company launched into a raucous version of “I Zimbra” from the one of the three Eno/Byrne collaborations with Byrne’s band Talking Heads. His backup singers grabbed their mike stands and lined up in a row behind Byrne. Three dancers – also dressed in white with one notable exception to the dress code: one of the gamine numbers was wearing shorts! -- joined the fray. All hell had broken loose.

Byrne has always been an innovator. Anyone who remembers his band will remember “the big suit” from the Jonathan Demme’s concert film Stop Making Sense. The white ensembles matching Byrne’s now snowy white hair and Twyla Tharp-ish dancers who were now rolling across the stage in office chairs were starting to grow on me. Damn it, who says one can’t be in their middle-fifties and still push the fashion envelope?

With that the company launched into a song from an album that marked the last Talking Heads/Eno collaboration, Remain in Light. “Houses in Motion alone made this gig worth the ticket price, $37.00. Apparently, the Sotto voce critic behind me was won over as well. “David Bowie my ass,” he bellowed.

REVIEW: Get On The Bus

What does the underground world of drag balls -- an LGBT subculture in which primarily queer youth get up in either makeshift or stolen couture and walk the runway, garnering trophies for their houses -- have to do with Syracuse? Ask the three "homo-thugs" on the Centro bus. They declared themselves as such, snapping fingers over their heads, snapping the illusion that they were gang-bangers. Ride that bus to Manhattan, walk a "realness" category at a ball, or just take in the new play Wig Out!

Terrell Alvin McCraney's new drama plays at New York’s Vineyard Theater. This piece owes an extreme debt to Jennie Livingston’s 1990 documentary Paris Is Burning and also takes as its master shot the drag ball competition, dressing it in a fairy tale so labored one spends the evening waiting for a queen to throw down her weave from the catwalks now lining the Vineyard space.

There are grace notes of brilliance, mostly courtesy director Tina Landau, who utilizes the radically reconfigured theater beautifully. Everything builds toward a second act drag ball in which jungle beats pump and the characters prance to the end of scenic designer James Schuette’s extreme thrust stage that literally intersects the audience.

The problem is that intersection never really merges. Where actual pier queen lingo still zings — witness Livingston’s drag ball judge tell two battling contestants: “If you touch, I’m chopping you” — McCraney’s language is so florid it sounds straight out of Lord of the Rings.

Add to that a heavy-handed “homage” to Livingston’s film that seats the aging mother of the House of Light before her lit makeup mirror ala Paris is Burning’s legend Dorian Corey, a Greek chorus of three Dreamgirls and a stagey “face” demo in which “unpainted” queens wipe their visage with a white handkerchief and this house of blusher sinks.

The cast is uniformly excellent. Daniel T. Booth’s Playbill bio is slim, but his outsized alter ego Sweetie makes an entrance. And nearly mops — pier lingo for stealing: remarkably absent from the universe of Wig Out! — the show as Serena, mother of the House of Di’Abolique. His chinoiserie lip-synch to Jefferson Airplane’s “White Rabbit” alone makes this play worth the trip.

BITE: Paris Is Burning's My New BFF

In 1990, documentary filmmaker Jennie Livingston released her seven-year labor of love Paris Is Burning. The film chronicled disenfranchised members of a New York subculture composed of various houses, or loose familial amalgams of young queens miles away from Fashion Avenue, yet close enough to hold a mirror up to its gorgeous excess.

These queens walked the runway in elaborate drag balls where members of competing houses would imitate everything from high fashion models to urban roughnecks in the category “banjee realness,” or as its explained in the film, “looking like the kind of girl that walks her little brother to school.”

Livingston’s film grossed almost four million dollars domestically, gangbusters for a nonfiction feature. Three months before Livingston’s Toronto International Film Festival debut, Madonna’s song “Vogue” hit the top of Billboard’s Hot 100. That song, and accompanying David Fincher video, provided a slick backdrop for the intricate gesture and tableaux freeze movement vocabulary approximating the titular fashion magazine come to life.

Over the course of one summer, two white women loosed the perfect storm, unleashing queer black culture on an unsuspecting pop landscape. Over the next fifteen years, New York’s landscape changed so dramatically that drag queens and hustlers fronting pier culture — so named for the abandoned West Village piers on which houses would gather to “do shows” — were replaced by manicured Rollerblade paths trafficked by aerodynamic, three-wheel, jog strollers. Paris had burned.

Cut to 2005. Livingston’s film has its long-awaited DVD release ($23.99) and a full-on Vogue resurgence fires up in London, bringing piers queens back like phoenix from the flame. Maybe. There are still aerodynamic, three-wheel, jog strollers, but some of the children are vogueing.

REVIEW: Gothic Girl

“Death, destruction, and decay.” Not exactly words associated with fashion, unless one happens to be standing in line for a Marc Jacobs show. But this morbid platter is exactly what curator Valerie Steele promises in the exhibition catalog for “Gothic: Dark Glamour.”

“This is the first museum exhibition devoted to the gothic style in fashion,” Steele writes. It presents more than 75 sinister looks from designers as diverse as Anne Demeulemeester and Yohji Yamamoto.

She displays them astutely over tableaux ranging from ruined castle to mad scientist’s lab in the unassuming, but state-of-the-art basement museum at the Fashion Institute of Technology.

But who, precisely, is wearing this stuff? The local mall turns up plenty of Goths (check out the teens loitering in the black nail polish section of any Hot Topic store), but Urban Dictionary defines this subculture as: “Morbid, wearing black clothes almost all of the time, and wearing makeup regardless of sex.” This teen demo is not exactly a group known to don Alexander McQueen originals, but that’s the beauty of Steele’s show: it gives these kids a chance to dream. And maybe even pull themselves up by their Doc Maarten bootstraps and off their gloomy road to fashion hell.

Entering the exhibit is like stepping onto the set of Tim Burton’s Beetlejuice. A ghostly pirate ship hovers in the distance and a wrought iron fence pointed with fleur de lis displays fashion behind bars. This show’s real triumph is its unexpectedness. On closer inspection, Thierry Mugler’s fur neckline is revealed as ‘faux monkey fur.” Hot fashion house Rodarte – the sister act of Kate and Laura Mulleavy – play with the gothic trope of skulls, burying theirs in delicate, red Spanish lace turning out their fiery Senorita perfectly for the Day of the Dead.

Karl Lagerfeld spins a spider web from feathers and beads while fashion’s enfant terrible Hussein Chalayan fashions a cape from carpet fibers. Goth is where you find it. Alexander McQueen (who claims ancestry dating back to a woman burned at Salem) here concocts her coming out dress: a black shell practically supported by its enormous, off-kilter cross that’s well on its way to inversion.

There are more big names like Chanel and Dior, and a vitrine that rheostats from clear glass to mirrored, showcasing more emerging designers. This reflective cabinet of curiosities is a brilliant touch. And a nice place to touch up your black eyeliner.

"Gothic: Dark Glamour" is free and runs through Feb. 21. An exhibit called "Seduction" joins it on Dec. 9. And if you're still smarting from that Marc Jacobs read in the lede, start primping now. Jacobs is sponsoring "Model as Muse" at the Met. This Costume Institute retrospective starts with Dovima and ends with Giselle. It also kicks off with the Met's annual gala on May 4 and Jacobs is hosting, along with Anna, Kate and Justin. Yes, that Justin.

A-LIST: Phaidon for Fashionistas

Nothing says holiday more than a big-assed, doorstop of a coffeetable book and we think Phaidon -- which specializes in gorgie architectural tomes -- does some of the best. We’ve rounded-up our five favs for holiday gifting:


Gothic & Lolita, $29.95
You don’t have to be Gwen Stefani to know that Harajuku Girls are out of their minds, but Tokyo’s hippest school girls have moved on from the early-Bri knee socks and are working a new look that’s part Morticia Adams and part pre-teen temptress. The pics are by cult photog Masayuki Yoshingaga.


The Fashion Book, $9.95
Vogue calls it this “the ultimate fashion reference book.” And if Anna likes it, you know the type is big enough to be read with sunglasses on. This A to Zed guide to fashion belongs on the desk or, frankly, in the purse of any fashionista worth her salty. It’s a steal for under 10 dollars and really is small enough to fit in your handbag.


Andy Warhol “Giant” Size, $125.00
Okay, this is our splurge, but it’s just the thing for the size queen on your list. The Sunday Herald compared it to the Bible, only with Polaroids of drag queens and male nudes. And the giant size means your little hipster can take that portrait of Nico and make his very own bangs stencil. You get everything from party invites to personal notes from Halston.


A Dedicated Follower of Fashion, $29.95
Full disclosure, this is one of the textbooks for the class that brings you Salty, but it’s also been one of the finds of my semester. Even fuller disclosure, I bought a used copy from Amazon for a lot less clam, but I don’t know where it’s been. This brand-new, insidery look at the fashion biz would look so smart tucked under your arm when you’re waiting on line for that Marc Jacobs show.


Wallpaper* City Guides, $49.75
For less than 50 magilla, you get London, Milan, New York, Paris, Tokyo. Just think of how handy these babies will be when you start the semi-annual fashion week schlep. This box set comes bound in a pretty ribbon that will probably let you get away with not gift wrapping. You can pick up individual guides like Kyoto or Delhi for less than ten bucks, but then, who cares about Kyoto or Delhi?

CRUSH: How to Get an A in Fingertips

Sleep deprived. Your head spins. The stress wears on your like the heaviest winter coat. If finals week is bringing you down and you’re sick of studying, skip the lattes and head to your local manicurist. Regardless if this study break leaves you feeling naughty or nice, get into the holiday spirit by adorning your nails in OPI’s 2008 Holiday in Toyland Collection. When all else fails, at least you know your nails are guaranteed an A!



Sheer Your Toys, You’re a Doll, and Glamour Game



Brand New Skates, Baby, It’s Coal Outside, and Play ’til Midnight



Girls Just Want to Play, Red Hot Gift, and Little Red Wagon



Rosy Missletoe-sies, A Ruby For Rudolph, and Don’t Toy With Me

HOW TO: Buy For The Boy

Tis’ the season to show him that you care. Consider these six investment pieces to amp his style (in an approximate order of relationship serious, give or take):



Make time stand still with this sophisticated, scratch-resistant, stainless steel men’s bracelet watch by Burberry. Features include: A minimalist face accented by silver hands and dials, water-resistance to 30 meters, a date window, and clasp closure. Only for those expecting something really outstanding come Valentines. $425, Nordstrom.com.



Tie him to your heart. A classic look, with a smart design, this new range of waterproof silk ties by Aquascutum proves a noteworthy addition to any guy’s wardrobe (especially those about to graduate and face stiff competition on the job front). $140, Bloomingdales.com




Don’t sweat the small stuff. This versatile, v-neck, lightweight, sweater features extra-fine merino wool (read: dry clean only). This is the perfect relationship hedge (it signals importance but avoids commitment associations). $85, Available at Nordstrom.com.



Get him a gift as “handsome” as he is. Genuine Ugg Australia shearling lines suede gloves for extra comfort and warmth. A snap closure at the inner wrist provides a snug fit. What this gift says: I know we’ve only been out a few times, but I’m smitten enough to drop a respectable amount of cash on you. $140, Uggaustralia.com.




Everyone loves (and needs) additional vintage tees. This comfortable cotton crewneck tee by Retro Sport also provides potential walk of shame material for you. $49, Nationaljeancompany.com.





Wrap him up in your love with this super-soft cotton loop terry robe. Consider this a small price to pay for marking your territory. $149, Saksfifthavenue.com.

D.I.Y.: Ripped and Racy

If dishing out $220 on a pair of Seven ripped jeans puts an unholy hole in your fashion allowance, let me solve your denim dilemma. Follow these simple steps and your wallet won’t feel a thing.

1.Start at home. Use jeans that have served as your trusty companion for years. Messing up new ones hurts, and the old ones know your body better than your boyfriend.

2.Wear and compare. Slip them on, and mark them with a piece of chalk or a faint pen mark. Aim for a line of a few inches that travels just above the middle of your kneecap when standing.

3.Rub it. Take them off, and rub the marks against a rough surface. Whether it’s the sidewalk, a cheese grater, or your pumice foot stone, make sure to rub hard, especially on the areas you marked.

4.Ripped perfection. Take your scissors and cut a small hole in the center of your marking. Then pull the fabric apart with your fingers, in the direction you want the rip to be.

5.Wash, Wash, Wash. This is the most important step. Washing creates the frayed look. The more you wash them, the more authentic the rip. Tumble dry, and voila — sexy scuffs at an even sexier price.

HOW TO: Nude No-No's, Red Rules

I refuse to squeeze into skinny jeans and slip on four-inch heels to feel sexy. I found a simpler resolution: dressing up my best asset — my pucker. Let the latest lip trends, which urge women to take one of two lip extremes (nothing nude or everything red), serve as your holiday secret weapon. Follow these three simple rules to pull off these dramatic looks. And don’t forget to re-apply after that piece of pie.

Nude Rules

1.I know I said nude, but when picking out a color stay away from beige shades, which create a washed-out appearance. Instead opt for pink or peach shades.
2.Before you put on the lipstick, do two things. First, apply some concealer on your lips. This gives your color staying power. Next line them with a natural-color liner, and then add the lip color.
3. Understated lips require dramatic eyes. Have fun, and go wild with the drama.

Red Rules

1. Test out a few shades. Finding the perfect red requires work. Fair skin: classic red is best. Olive skin: opt for more of an orange hint. Dark skin: brick is the way to go.
2. Trace your mouth with natural-colored liner, then smudge. Follow with your lipstick, using a tiny brush for precision if you choose.
3. Your lips serves as the main attraction. Tone down everything else. Mascara and primped brows will go a long way.

LANDMARK LOOKS: South Asian Style

The South Asian Student Association hosted their annual Mayur, a night of south Asian entertainment. Comedian Vidur Kapur headlined, members of Syracuse Orange Bhangra danced, others sang Bollywood ballads, Professor Tula Goenka showed a presentation on the flood relief mission in Bihar, and awards were given out to S.A.S.A. members and faculty. Most of the attendees wore only a few ethnic accent pieces such as scarves or ornate earrings, explaining the snowy climate prevented them from wearing their embellished silk saris. Props to those who braved the cold and represented South Asian pride.

TRIPLE THREAT: It's Britney BITCH!

Britney Spears celebrates birthday #27, the rock star year today (December 2) along with the release of her album Circus. The anticipated `come-back' album, as declared by her longtime manager Larry Rudolph, features tracks such as “Womanizer” and “Circus.” Leaving the highs and lows of the past three years behind her, Britney looks better than ever. Ready to rock it one more time, Britney delivers her three alter-egos in the video “Womanizer” and provides a celluloid flipbook of iconic female style.

Donning a cropped wig and librarian spectacles, Britney delivers sexy to the cubicle set. She keeps it classic with red lipstick and a high-waist pencil skirt. A metallic belt adds just the right rock-star accessory. Dressed in a black-and-white, striped blouse, Britney's ensemble alludes to inmate attire and foreshadows her second persona.



Guilty on all counts, a red head of hair transforms Britney into a femme fatale. She takes on a bad girl rep, wearing all black leather, a vest, and pants. A clean white collar brings a little sophistication to the performance (don't let that Louisiana upbringing fool you). Her most noticeable adornments: a sleeve of tattoos and heavy black eye liner. As performed with a cherry, this Britney bites.



Finally, Brit emerges incognito as a town-car driver. Decked out in men's wear, Britney decides on a suit jacket as a dress and accessorizes with a matching hat and aviators. Spike heels accentuate her legs. In the closing scene, The Womanizer with “the swagger of a champion” succumbs to Britney, and the fab four — Miss Spears and her three look-a-likes — unite. A better “girls rule, boys drool” moment does not exist.



Now, would the real Britney Spears please stand up, please stand up.

CRUSH: Jean-Paul Belmondo

In 1960, Jean-Luc Godard released his nouvelle vague masterpiece Breathless, launching Jean-Paul Belmondo on an unsuspecting world. Critics talk about contemporary film history as before Breathless and after Breathless, but fashionistas could take a cue. Jean-Paul was onto something.

Belmondo springs from that white tee, wiry bod school of Brando and Dean. The former boxer (that nose!) is raw, mumbled sex appeal, but stick him in a horizontally-striped French Navy boatman sweater and send the dresser home for the rest of the shoot. We’ve pictured his Breathless co-star Jean Seaberg working the look because we prefer Belmondo out of clothes.

But the nautical look continues to rock the French. Check out another Jean-Paul, the French designer Gaultier, and the “packaging” for his Le Male fragrance bottle. And if JP and Naomi look a little waxy, it’s not from partying at Les Bains Douches. This pic was snatched from Chez Tussauds.

When Belmondo’s not in his jaunty hat and trench, his look is pretty much boxers and cigarettes. I’m a non-smoker, but I’ve always allowed my partner to light up after, and, quite frankly, during sex. I find it erotic and obviously Mlle. Erotica does too. Who can forget Breathless Mahoney smoking on the MTV Awards? We’ve collected some of Madonna’s hotter le smoking looks at left.

Finally, there are those boxers. In Breathless’ most famous scene, Belmondo romps around a hotel room in just a pair of tidy white ones. They’re impossibly geeky, and Belmondo wears them waistline well past navel, but it doesn’t matter because they’ll be doffed.

We’ve captured Richard Gere working the look in the dismal 1983 Breathless remake. And, of course, the camera has captured other memorable underoos moments. Yes, Tom Cruise sliding across the floor in his briefs and Ray-Bans and what about these white hot Calvin ads with the then "Marky" Mark grabbing his funky bunch? Exposed undergarments retain their fashionable pull on the public. You still see it today with middle-aged gay men dressed like public school students: high-rise boxers peeking from low-rise jeans.

But unlike Gere and Mr. Wahlberg, Belmondo continues to exert a profound effect on fashion. We’re ending with this triptych of Belmondo and Milk star James Franco. This pouty hottie rising has roots firmly in Jean-Paul Belmondo-ville. Just look at those lips. But enough about Franco. Back to gay Paris and that Jean-Luc Godard 1960 classic and one of the key films of the French New Wave. Imagine this: the Breathless star has just arrived in town. He steals a car. He kills a cop. He tries to get laid. Take a moment to inhale, he may leave you breathless.