As the New York City’s voracious appetite for gastro-pub fare reaches satiation—the Breslin, Minetta Tavern, Gus and Gabriel, the Redhead, and Tanuki Tavern (yes, a Japanese gastro-pub) are just a sampling of the most recent comfort-food canteens on the scene—our focus turns to one eatery that breaks from the pack by offering up honest, unpretentious pub grub instead of the pampered victuals we have recently come to expect from its brethren. At Brinkley’s, which opened earlier this year on the corner of Lafayette and Broome, a hamburger comes with a McClure’s pickle (not a black label), and homemade mac and cheese has nary a truffle in sight. But make no mistake: The simplicity of Brinkley’s locally sourced menu does not mean that it skimps on taste.

Owned by the dashing brothers Martignetti, the place is outfitted with chairs from a 1940s Montana schoolhouse, mahogany church pews, and an antique black-and-white checkerboard floor. The restaurant got its name from one of the boys’ favorite childhood dogs (hence the equally dashing tux-clad pooch emblazoned on the menu). Brinkley’s replaced the tremendously popular Bar Martignetti, which shuttered its doors a year ago to the chagrin of its über-loyal following that had treated it as a SoHo outpost of Cheers. Anthony, the younger of the two brothers dishes about his family’s newest addition. Continue reading ›

While there were several memorable aspects to Kim Clijsters’s defeat of Caroline Wozniacki in the 2009 U.S. Open finals—that she became the first unseeded woman to win the tournament, that she was the first mother to win a major title since 1980, that it marked her triumphant comeback after two years away from tennis—what fans may remember most is the scene that followed: a blonde toddler joining Clijsters on the court to celebrate and pose with the trophy (the moment was so heartfelt, Barbie made one-of-a-kind dolls of the two). While in town for the BNP Paribas Showdown at Madison Square Garden, Clijsters dropped by the Vogue offices to discuss her work-life balance since the birth of her daughter, Jada, now two. 

What were the most noticeable changes to your body post-pregnancy?

It took me a while to lose the baby weight. The first few months after Jada was born, my Dad was really sick and my sister and I were taking care of him, so I didn’t really have any time to focus on trying to get in shape. I started hitting a few balls here and there about six months after Jada was born. I was breastfeeding at the time, so that made it a little more complicated—at one point I was wearing two sports bras just so I could jump and serve! But I was generally uncomfortable, and decided it was a bit too soon to get right back into it. Then in January 2009, I started preparing myself for a few exhibition games and Wimbledon. The first few weeks and months were really hard because in my head I still knew how to run to a ball and what to do, but my hips and core were so unstable. That’s what took the longest—getting that stability back.

Continue reading ›

The skin is the thing.

When you look at Hermès this fall, forget Mrs. Peel from The Avengers, the bowler hats, the fact that there were enough black leather and umbrellas to suggest a group of fetishists doing an S&M remake of Singin’ in the Rain.

At its best, Hermès, under the direction of Jean Paul Gaultier, could come up with chic looks like this—a burnished brown leather top and kilt under a black coat devoid of all fastenings and detailing. The story here lies in the way one texture plays off another.  And that that kilt is one of the best of a season of skirts doing the Highland Fling.

—Mark Holgate

Blue, blue, la mode est blue.

If you’ve had Three Colors: Blue in your Netflix queue for what feels like forever but no DVD has ever been delivered to your mailbox, now you know why. The movie has clearly been inspiring designers for fall. There is barely one these past four weeks who hasn’t used blue in some way in his or her collection; British designer Richard Nicoll, who just made his debut for the house of Cerruti, is no exception.

There are all sorts of reasons that all shades of this particular hue will work come fall. At its brightest, it will look brilliant for evening among all those gilded shades of cream, white, and gray. At its darkest, it’s got more depth and richness to it than black. And it works with all the other colors of fall—camel, brown, forest green, khaki, and, yes, even black. Nicoll’s blues were part of a tonal dressing story that he also explored in his show in London. That certainly gave the color impact, but it will work just as beautifully in isolation.

—Mark Holgate

A few blocks off the garden-filled sidewalks of Chicago’s Magnificent Mile—the Midwest’s super-size version of Fifth Avenue—and around the corner from the skyscraping John Hancock building is the newest addition to the Windy City’s growing collection of boutique hotels: the Elysian. Named after the mythic Elysian Fields where gods and goddesses laid their mortal heroes to rest, the secluded—entry is through an almost-hidden stone-walled archway—188-room hotel is also home to a not-so-boutique-size, 14,000-square-foot spa.

Staking claim as the largest space in the Grecian-inspired hotel, this urban oasis shares its dark granite floors with a Pilates and Gyrotonic studio, a state-of-the-art gym, and a petal-pink mosaic-tiled lap pool. The tranquil ladies’ and men’s lounges (hers finished in sparkling white stone with lacquered lockers; his in rich walnut wood) offer a place where weary, over-shopped feet (Barneys New York is a neighbor) can soak in whirlpools and relax in steam and sauna rooms pretreatment. And while the women’s lounge leads to a hallway lined with treatment rooms for herbal body wraps, holistic-based facials, and stress-relieving massages (ask for Elio), the men have their own atelier—complete with flat-screen TVs—for traditional shaves and trims.

Elysian Spa & Health Club, 11 East Walton Street; (312) 646-1300.

—Christina Han

Twenty-six-year-old shoe designer Becca Moon is a Venice beach native whose second collection just happens to be inspired by the colors—and characters—of the film genre known as spaghetti Westerns. “I was inspired by the cinematography, the lighting, the high contrast,” says Moon of the seven styles in white, black, brown, and speckled leathers for spring. “I took the cowboy thing to the next level, making it cool—not so authentic, but with more of an artistic vibe.” We love the Nila, an ankle bootie (in stores April 1) that looks like a classic cowboy boot folded over and cut out to create a harness at its heel. 

Becca Moon Nila boot, $495; akinneycourt.com.

—Stephanie LaCava
Edited by Virginia Tupker

Celebrate your God-given curves.

It’s quite something when the sight of a generous bust elicits shock, as happened today at Louis Vuitton; the last time breasts heaved this much in Paris was when the Marquise de Merteuil and the Vicomte de Valmont were locked in courtly combat in Dangerous Liaisons. But just to be clear: It wasn’t shocking in a bad way, it was more just this electrified sense of how décolleté has been absent in fashion and, ergo, how much the body ideal for the runway has been fixated on a very rangy girl. That important matter aside, what does it mean in terms of the clothes at Vuitton? A defined bust, a small waist, and skirts that must have used meters of fabrics, accessorized with pumps decorated with bows, and the LV Speedy bag reworked to look like it could have been carried in Far From Heaven. And by calling his fall show And God Created Woman (named after the 1956 Bardot movie), as opposed to And Surgery Created Woman, Marc Jacobs seemed to be rejecting the increasingly exaggerated and enhanced female form in favor of something gloriously natural.

—Mark Holgate

The stretch between the end of your hem and the start of your ankles can be very long.

In typical form, Miuccia Prada has no truck with the prevailing wisdom that fall is going to be all about skirts that drop to mid calf or longer. Miu Miu was sometimes abbreviated to such a point that thank goodness for one of her new ideas—kick-flared skinny pants to wear under those teeny skirts—for a little decorum. Yes, everything was rooted in Sixties references, what with short, structured dresses and coats in black with highlights of purple and orange, worn with small ladylike purses. But the use of decoration—bows, scalloped edges, metallic floral rosettes—pointed to another interpretation. With everyone shedding detail in favor of the rigorously pared down, Prada seemed to be looking for a way to add some lyrical detailing to clothes in a moment when plain and simple is going to dominate.

—Mark Holgate

Right now, there are two things in the world that you can wear all year round wherever you are. These would be a) shorts and b) black tights. How did it come to this? Just take a look at the models photographed this past week in Paris by Hanneli Mustaparta (hanneli.com) who have all picked up on the idea that seasonless dressing is the way forward. They made those two items the mainstay of their looks, wearing them with just about everything and anything to become seasonally appropriate. Others partnered warm-weather clothes (when was the last time you saw ikat-print pants in the dead of winter?) with wintry garb (a windproof trench, for instance), or threw a little sheer and light (gauzy tops, fluttery silk dresses) under the weightily substantial. The minute the sun pops out, off come the heavy top layers and you have the deliciously insubstantial to wear to bask in whatever rays there are.

It’s actually an approach that’s started to appear on the runways, even if it’s already been adopted as the best way to dress by the girls who wear the clothes professionally. It also reveals a more profound truth. Perhaps we shouldn’t even be seeing twice-yearly shows with such distinct seasons anyway? That it is time to simply see enthralling new fashion every six months that doesn’t prolong the myth that we spend half the year baking, and the other half in clothes heavy enough to beat the arctic chill. The crew of models seen here could really be on to something.

—Mark Holgate

“She’s a friend of mine, and I love her style. Her aesthetic fits in with Janis,” says Luis Miguel of French-born documentary filmmaker and DJ Celine Danhier, who will be spinning this Friday at the opening of Miguel’s new late-night hangout, Janis, located underneath his restaurant De Santos in the West Village. It was with Alex Gonzalez, his De Santos partner (and the drummer of Mexican band Maná), that Miguel decided to revive the basement of the brownstone in which the restaurant lives. “We kept the cool, rustic spirit that existed before,” says Miguel of the intimate space. “The decoration is old school—exposed brick walls, wooden floors, red tufted banquettes. We tried to respect the original structure.” It is this very place in which namesake Janis Joplin used to play sessions alongside Jimi Hendrix. Now Danhier (late of the beloved Beatrice Inn and Le Baron in Paris) will help create the music. Here, we get a first look inside and a sampling of the songs Danhier will spin come Friday.

Celine Danhier’s playlist:

James Chance: “Irresistible Impulse”

Lipps Inc.: “How Long”

Fox the Fox: “Precious Little Diamond”

Yoko Ono: “Soul Got Out of the Box”

Walter Steding & the Dragon People: “New Day”

Metronomy: “Holiday”

Loose Ends: “Hangin’ on a String”

Charlotte Gainsbourg: “Charlotte For Ever”

Minty: “Plastic Bag”

Pet Shop Boys: “West End Girls”

René & Angela: “I Love You More”

—Stephanie LaCava